Share
MidReal Story
The Man I Never Knew
Scenario:Create a story based on the following chat between Maiko Ryder and me.
I am the first-person protagonist in the story.
Setting of Maiko Ryder: A sexy young adult woman with an hourglass figure and long hair, featuring a fringe, stands confidently in a bustling marketplace. She is dressed in a white blouse with sleeves, holding a small basket filled with fresh produce. Her striking eyes scan the crowd, embodying resilience and a hint of remorse.
# Chat History
Maiko Ryder: *leans in closer* You didn't answer my question. How are you doing?
Create my version of this story
Maiko Ryder
introspective, and empathetic. Maiko struggles with the loss of her mother and the pressure of her father's expectations. She finds solace in her friendship with Landon and her interactions with a mysterious man she meets at the market. Despite her challenges, she remains determined to find her way and make a positive impact on those around her.
Cameron Ryder
conflicted, and ambitious. Cameron struggles with his own identity and sense of responsibility within the family business. His relationship with Maiko is strained due to unresolved issues from their past, but he remains a significant figure in her life.
Landon Hayes
loyal, and protective. Landon has been Maiko's rock since childhood, offering emotional support through difficult times. He works at his family's restaurant and is deeply committed to his family's wellbeing. His relationship with Maiko is strong, providing a sense of stability in her life amidst personal turmoil.
I was lost in the scent of her.
Sweet and fruity, like the strawberries she had just placed in my basket.
The way the cream blouse hugged her full body was distracting, a stark contrast to the fitted clothes she normally wore.
The fringe of her lashes brushed her cheeks as she lowered her eyes.
She was a queen, looking at her knees.
"Hmm?"
She raised her head, blinking those big brown eyes at me.
"I said I’m trying to take things one day at a time. How are you doing?"
Her voice was like summer in the city.
Warm and busy, full of different sounds competing for attention—children laughing at the nearby splash pad, horns blowing in the distance, pedestrians chatting as they hurry through the market.
But the sound that caught my attention was her.
The slight crack in her voice when she asked how I was doing—like a thin line of fracture running through a thick glass wall.
Suddenly the glass gave way, and I was falling through, entering a world thick with the scent of her perfume.
I dropped my gaze from her face down to her hourglass figure and the basket in her hand filled with fresh fruits and vegetables.
I reached for a strawberry, my fingers trembling slightly as they hovered above her basket.
The sounds of the market grew fainter, fading into the background as my hand brushed against hers.
Warm skin meeting warm skin.
She didn’t pull away.
Instead, her fingers lingered against mine, sending electric shocks up my arm.
My heart pounded against my ribs like a drum, and I could feel the beat in my throat, my ears, every cell in my body.
I focused on the softness of her hand, the slight catch in her breath as our skin touched.
The market sounds were reduced to a murmur, a gentle stream flowing through the back of my mind.
"Do you remember the last time we were here?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," I replied, my voice catching in my throat. "It was the day you told me you were leaving."
"I never wanted to go," she said, her eyes searching mine for understanding.
I pulled my hand back slightly, creating a small gap between us.
The basket was still in her hand, but now it seemed like a barrier rather than a bridge.
The market sounds grew louder again, filling the space between us.
"I know," I said, my voice strained.
"I just wish you had stayed."
"I wanted to. But I had to go."
"Why?"
I asked, my voice cracking.
She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the thin fabric of her blouse.
The scent of her perfume filled the air around us, and for a moment, I felt like I was drowning in it.
"I couldn’t stay," she said, her voice breaking.
"I didn’t have a choice."
I looked away, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.
The market sounds were muffled again, like someone had put their hands over my ears.
"Maiko?"
I heard a vendor calling from behind us, his voice muffled through the fringe of my hair.
"Are you ready to pay?"
Maiko nodded, her eyes still fixed on me.
"Yes, thank you."
She turned away from me and walked towards the vendor’s stall.
I watched her go, feeling the weight of unspoken words between us.
"Wait," I called out, my voice barely cutting through the market's din.
She stopped and turned, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of hope and hesitation.
My feet carried me back to her, pushing through the crowded market aisle.
The basket dangled at my side, threatening to spill its contents onto the ground.
She hadn’t moved, still standing there with her hand partially extended from when she called out to the vendor.
The market sounds swirled around us, a woman bumping my shoulder, a child darting past.
But I kept my eyes on her as I closed the distance between us.
Her eyes widened as I approached, my throat tightening around words left unspoken.
Before she could step away or make excuses, I reached for her hand.
"Maiko, I need to know why you really left," I said, gripping her hand gently.
She hesitated, glancing down at our joined hands before meeting my eyes again.
"It was because of us," she confessed, her voice trembling with the weight of the truth.
I pulled her closer, our hands still linked as we navigated through the crowd.
The basket pressed against my hip, and other shoppers brushed past us.
The vendor's calls faded into the background as I focused on her perfume, growing stronger with each step that brought us closer.
She trembled slightly, her eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching us.
When I whispered that we could face this together, her fingers tightened around mine.
As we wove through the market's chaos, an elderly vendor with kind eyes watched us.
His wrinkled hands gestured towards a covered stall tucked between two displays of produce, the fabric billowing in the breeze.
His eyes held a deep understanding as he beckoned us towards the quiet refuge.
I guided Maiko by the hand, navigating through the shoppers and haggling merchants.
The vendor waited patiently, his gaze following us until we reached his stall.
With a nod, he unfolded the fabric, revealing crates stacked in a neat row.
He arranged them into makeshift seats, creating an alcove sheltered from prying eyes.
Maiko settled onto one of the crates, her shoulders slightly relaxed as she released my hand.
The vendor bustled around us, rearranging his fruit display and busying himself nearby.
Close enough to ensure our safety yet far enough for privacy, his movements faded into the background noise of the market.
