paper faces on parade [ audrey ]

[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

Late afternoon sunlight filtered into the bedroom behind Gemma as she observed herself in the full-length mirror on her closet door. Tonight was the family celebration for her mom’s birthday. As much as Gemma loved both her family and parties, the two combined were usually nothing more than painstaking hours of misery for her. Her mom’s idea of a “small family gathering” was every cousin, aunt, uncle, grandparent, and whoever else she felt like inviting that lived within a one-hundred mile radius. In the case of the Taylor family, that added up to a rather large number. Yet, out of so many people, Gemma only had two cousins within five years of her age. One was a thirteen year old snot who did nothing but take pictures of herself. The other was Audrey Vandergraaf, who had moved to Hadley from New York at the beginning of the school year. Her mom had been constantly nagging Gemma to make friends with her sister’s daughter and, obviously disappointed at the lack of results, had jumped at the opportunity to invite Audrey to the night’s festivities. Gemma had tried to explain why the two were not friends like when they were younger as kindly as possible, but it had gone in one ear and out the other.

Gemma shook her head and rolled her eyes, giving herself a final once-over in the mirror. She flicked off the light switch, crossing the hall to check on her little brother’s progress. She gave the door two warning raps, and opened the door to find complete darkness broken only by the harsh light of a TV screen. If that kid didn’t cool it on the video games, his consoles were all going to find their way into a locked safe. She cleared her throat loudly to get his attention, and tapped her wrist impatiently before stalking out of the room. She closed the door loudly enough to let him know she wasn’t kidding but without slamming it.

She descended the stairs gracefully to the living room, where the closest of her relatives were rushing back and forth between more distant guests to make last-minute adjustments to minute details that no one cared about. Gemma still didn’t understand why the family party was so formal this year. She supposed it was what her mom wanted, which meant she wasn’t going to question it. She had been avoiding the woman all day in order to preserve her sanity from the frenzy. Even now, she turned and walked the opposite direction as she saw her mom enter the room. She would no doubt get the talk about being the daughter of perfect poise before the night was over. Maybe her father would let her have a glass of wine or two – it was a special occasion after all.

Gemma hugged the familiar faces and smiled politely at the unfamiliar as she made her way back up the stairs to her vantage point on the balcony. She brought a glass of champagne with her, not bothering to ask this time. She scanned the room over the rim of the glass, looking for the one face in particular that she hoped wouldn’t show. She and Audrey had been the best of friends when they were younger but began to grow apart at the dawn of their teenage years. Gemma was a blossoming social butterfly with a strict reputation to maintain. Simply enough, Audrey’s actions had left her with no choice but to slowly cut her out of her life. It wasn’t that hard, considering the distance between Michigan and New York, but now it was all back.

Her mother opened the front door below, welcoming someone in rather warmly. She couldn’t see who it was from where she was, but she felt her blood go cold as her mother turned sharply and spotted Gemma immediately with her hawkish eyes. Even from this distance, the “get down here now” look was obvious. She rolled her eyes, topping off the glass of champagne before joining her mother at the door where none other than her favorite cousin stood. ”Hey, Audrey,” she said coolly, which seemed to be enough for her mother who stalked away to make sure nothing had been destroyed in the past thirty seconds since she last checked.

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 717
NOTES: Sorry, it's pretty...bleh.

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[audreyvandergraaf]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2v1ndpe.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] Come on and get it before I change my mind Come on kid don't waste my time So rich so pretty the best piece of ass in the whole damn city I like a girl who eats and brings it up a sassy little frassy with bulimia ►a girl who wakes up Audrey rubbed her long hair vigorously with a towel, her expression concentrated as she followed her meticulous beauty regimen. Unfortunately, this evening she was not going out to a party with friends, but rather to a party with relatives across town. She mumbled under her breath, dropping the towel into the hamper and walking toward the vanity, her make-up and hair products organized according to size, shape, and color. As she applied her foundation, the sixteen year old recalled the conversation she had earlier with her mother, each response bitter and unyielding. The skinny blonde imitated her mother’s final command in a mocking singsong voice, ”Audrey Fleur Vandergraaf, do not embarrass me. You will go, you will behave yourself, and that’s final.” Audrey rolled her big blue eyes, now blow-drying her hair so that she could look presentable for a bunch of people she didn’t give a shit about—Her extended family. It was six o’clock, the party had just begun, and Audrey was still in her dormitory finishing up. Ordinarily, the teen was a stickler was punctuality, but in situations like these, she intensely preferred to be ‘fashionably’ late. The girl took her time as she slipped into a simple tee-shirt dress and nude heels. Audrey’s style was a combination of old money and heroin chic, and her outfits made statements; although, these statements were usually along the lines of “I threw on my dirty laundry and I still look richer than you.” Running out of things to do in order to kill time, the slight teen finally threw on her pea coat and stepped outside, inhaling the cool evening air before lighting up a stoge. The walk was a mere fifteen minutes, so Audrey had time for at least two cigarettes, perhaps three if she wasn’t feeling light-headed. This time was good to prepare herself for the inevitable conversations she’d be forced to endure: How’s your mother? Are you still dancing? Are you hungry? Why don’t you eat something? How’s the family business? Needless to say, she wasn’t looking forward to it. Finally arriving at the Taylor home, Audrey shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath, attempting to rid herself of the pre-party jitters. Before she could even ring the doorbell, the door was thrust open by her aunt, a sweet middle-aged woman, who immediately took the teen into a suffocating hug. The usual welcomes were exchanged, and unsurprisingly, within moments of the girl’s entrance, her cousin Gemma began to make her way down the staircase. Great. Audrey hadn’t enjoyed Gemma’s company in years; the girl was uptight and unpleasant, and she’d do anything to impress her peers. Frankly, she found it pathetic. As she continued to mull over the reasons she hated her cousin, Gemma drew even closer, greeting her rather coldly, ”Hey Audrey.” Her cousin seemed equally uninterested in faking pleasantries, but it was a necessary part of expected decorum. ”Nice to see you, Gemma.” she managed, grabbing a glass of wine off of a nearby table. Audrey scanned the other girl’s outfit for something to comment on; ”Cute shoes.” she managed, attempting a smile. She then angled a frail arm inside of her purse and plucked out two pink pills, popping them in her mouth and chasing them with the wine. ”Fun party.” to a bottle of wine on the nightstand TAGS: TIME TO PARTY HAH, WORDS: 550 + , LYRICS: MICKEY AVALON - SO RICH SO PRETTY , OUTFIT: HERE template made by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0

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[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

The moment her mother’s back was turned, Gemma stole a second and third flute of champagne from a passing waiter (how much effort could one put into such an event, she couldn’t help but wonder). She tipped back one with a single swallow, setting the empty glass behind an absolutely horrid floral table decoration. She grasped the bowl of the other between her thumb, index, and middle finger. The remaining two fingers wrapped loosely around the narrow stem. She had decided it best to keep another on hand just in case things suddenly turned sour. Her resolve to first ask her father before taking another had gone out the window the second Audrey entered the building. Gemma was small but no stranger to drinking – she simply knew where to draw the line. As long as she wasn’t too obviously drunk (she’d have to be careful about that, already feeling light with hours yet to go), her parents would probably never even notice, what with all their frantic scurrying between different family members. If anything, her parents were expert party throwers who floated gracefully between groups, not spending too much time with one or another.

Her thoughts were drawn back to the present by Audrey’s comment about her shoes. "Oh, um, thanks," she responded quietly, not holding the other girl’s gaze for more than a second. "Nice bling." She motioned toward her own neck, indicating that she was talking about the large gold chain around Audrey’s neck. It really was a shame that the only thing keeping the two of them from being friends was their moral differences.

She turned a blind eye to the other girl’s blatant drug usage, finding some interesting spot of wood on the front door until the procession of pills and wine had passed. If Gemma “misbehaved” she at least made sure that she didn’t get caught. Audrey, on the other hand, didn’t appear, at least to Gemma, to give a damn who knew what she did. Maybe to some people that personality was admirable, but Gemma had been brought up to believe that appearances were important – even if it was simply a clever façade.

"Fun party." She smirked, bringing the flute in her hand to her lips for a short sip. She hadn’t truly tasted the first two until they hit her throat, but she allowed this sip to sit in her mouth a moment before swallowing, feeling the bubbles popping all the way down. "And it’s only just beginning," she remarked with a small, sarcastic smile, glancing over her shoulder at the open floor one step below them. Gemma figured her parents would give the guests an hour, maybe slightly more, to mingle before beginning the night’s true agenda. Their kitchen had been taken over several hours ago by the catering company responsible for delivering the night’s multi-course meal.

Gemma took a step back to allow Audrey to get out of the way of the door before someone opened it, slamming into her. One good hit and she’d probably break half the bones her body, she’s so frail, she couldn’t help but think, mentally kicking herself for it. Even if only in her head, being rude wasn’t going to help the situation at all. "So…which one of them forced you here?" she asked, hoping it wasn’t taken as rudely as it may have sounded. She didn’t intend to purposefully antagonize the girl – she’d get an earful later if she did. It was an innocent question – her own mother was always rather pushy, and she figured her aunt could be if she wanted.

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 598
NOTES: --

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[audreyvandergraaf]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2v1ndpe.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] Come on and get it before I change my mind Come on kid don't waste my time So rich so pretty the best piece of ass in the whole damn city I like a girl who eats and brings it up a sassy little frassy with bulimia ►a girl who wakes up Audrey gently grasped the stem of her wine glass as she idly traced an index finger around the beverage’s rim; she paid close attention as her cousin shamelessly threw back champagne, afterward hiding the glass flute behind some gaudy floral arrangement. The ballerina grinned devilishly, deciding that Gemma might be less of a spoilsport than she remembered her as. Taking a cue from her older cousin’s ‘bad’ behavior, Audrey tilted her head back and poured the remaining wine down her throat, ignoring the calories in the fermented grape drink; she decided that she would work it off later because right now she needed to be as inebriated as possible. The sixteen year old smiled and nodded politely as her cousin offered a gracious, if slightly hesitant, thanks. She knew the girl was going to return an equally contrived compliment—it was only proper—but she was pretty surprised to hear the word “bling” come out of Gemma’s mouth. ”Oh, why thank you.” she mused, appreciating the girl’s creativity. Both blondes knew exactly what kind of interaction this was destined to be, and at lest these girls were putting forth an effort to at least appear civil. ”And it’s only just the beginning.” Audrey sighed in agreement, although her gaze was directed toward the hallway; she was on the prowl. As her eyes searched for alcohol, Gemma nudged her away from the doorway, allowing another server to pass through. ”Thanks.” she whispered to her cousin before stealing a champagne flute off the back of the server’s tray. It was unlikely that she was to be served more than a glass at dinner, so it was wise to get sloshed during the cocktail hour. ”So… which one of them forced you hear?”

[/i] Audrey attempted to suppress a laugh, but it was difficult; she’d forgotten how well Gemma knew her ‘gracious’ parents. ”Is it that obvious?” she joked, taking a modest sip of her champagne, ”My mother, obviously—I haven’t heard from Mr. Gregory Vandergraaf since Christmas.”

When the girls were growing up, they spent a lot time jetting between Michigan and Manhattan, and during these times it was obvious that Audrey rarely saw her father. Instead, the little ballerina’s mother would accompany her on every trip, to every recital, and also to each of her favorite cousin’s cheerleading competitions. The massive Vandergraaf fortune allowed Gemma and Audrey to be raised like sisters despite the geographic distance between them; it was a shame that as they moved closer together, they drifted further apart.

”So, erm, how’s cheering?” Audrey managed, as she examined her manicure, having difficulty making compelling conversation. She could feel Gemma’s silent judgments; everyone knew she was the family fuck-up.




[/div]

to a bottle of wine on the nightstand

TAGS: AW , THEY'RE BONDING ... SORTA
WORDS: 441 ,
LYRICS: MICKEY AVALON - SO RICH SO PRETTY ,
OUTFIT: HERE

template made by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0

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[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

Gemma was quite surprised that they’d made it five minutes without getting into a fight. She wrote it off as both of them understanding quite well what kind of consequences a disagreement would mean. She wasn’t about to ruin it by commenting on the fact – it was really quite refreshing to get along with the girl she’d practically been, in a way, “feuding” with since they became teenagers. Gemma would never admit it, but there had been times where she had missed Audrey’s company, having grown up with her by her side almost constantly. Most of her early childhood consisted of extended trips between Hadley and Manhattan. Once they started school, they tended to alternate between the two locations on school holidays. They had slowly begun to grow apart due to the various differences between their lifestyles and home lives.

Without thinking, Gemma tipped back the rest of the third glass to kill her sentimental thoughts, wincing slightly at the burn of the carbonation. She followed Audrey’s action, nabbing another flute from the tray. At this rate, she was going to be wasted before they even sat down for dinner. “If I start trying to dance on tables or something, do me a favor and please stop me,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure her parents weren’t prowling around nearby. Satisfied that neither they nor her brother were watching, she took a large sip from the glass. Gemma definitely had a good buzz going. Wouldn’t it just be perfect, she thought, if I were the one that was wasted and Audrey looked like the innocent poster child of perfection? She giggled a bit at the thought, unable to stop herself.

Realizing her actions, she looked at Audrey in surprise, smiling slightly. “Sorry, I was just thinking,” she said, fighting the urge to empty the glass in her hand. Barely resisting temptation, she set it carefully on an end table, brushing some unseen dirt off her hands on the front of her dress. She nodded slowly at Audrey’s comment about her parents. “How is she doing, anyway? I haven’t seen her in forever.” Gemma didn’t ask about Mr. Vandergraaf; she’d never really taken a liking to the man – perhaps Audrey would remember that.

To say the least, Gemma was shocked that Audrey had even bothered to ask about her extracurricular activities. She chewed her lip and flicked a neat but stray blonde wave over her shoulder. “It’s…peppy. Just as much drama as there always has been. Oh, well, it’s going to get me a scholarship, so I’ll put up with them a while longer.” She would have never said any of this to anyone else on cheer; she’d probably never have said it to anyone if she was sober. However, under the influence of the bubbly, she didn’t really care that Audrey knew that her friends got on her nerves quite often. It wasn’t like there was much Audrey could do with the information. Gemma herself tried to stay out of the popular kids’ drama as much as possible but was occasionally dragged into it due to certain loyalties.

Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she rolled her shoulders back, correcting her posture which had gradually worsened the longer she stood there. “And you? Your dancing – how’s that going?” She felt it only right that she returned the favor and showed some interest in her cousin’s activities. Gemma hadn’t actually heard much about her progress since they stopped talking, just occasional snippets from phone calls between their parents on which she had eavesdropped.

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 601
NOTES: ramble ramble drunk gemma ramble ramble

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[audreyvandergraaf]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2v1ndpe.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] Come on and get it before I change my mind Come on kid don't waste my time So rich so pretty the best piece of ass in the whole damn city I like a girl who eats and brings it up a sassy little frassy with bulimia ►a girl who wakes up Audrey began to feel the effects of the Adderall as her fingers began to quiver around the stem of the glass flute. The experience of the come-up would only last for a few moments, the tingling sensation creeping in her brain, her heart pounding as though she were seated at the top of a rollercoaster, anticipating the drop. A smile tugged at the corners of the ballerina’s pale lips, her pupils gradually dilating from the stimulant’s effects—Mixing CNS pills with alcohol was frowned upon by most doctors, but it created an incomparable state of mental bliss. The sudden influx of dopamine allowed Audrey to remain enrapt in the social niceties, nodding her head as she reassured her now playful cousin, ”Don’t worry about it, Gemma—I may not stop you, but I’ll surely dance up there with you.” She snorted, relaxed as she took another hearty sip of the alcohol, the buzz hitting her like a freight train. Perhaps this wouldn’t be all that bad; Audrey didn’t mind embarrassing her proper family with her bizarre antics. ”My mother? Oh she’s okay.” the teenager began candidly, laughing to herself as she did a quick mental catalogue of her mother’s misery, ”She hasn’t been going to the family ‘psychiatrist’ lately, so that’s good, but now she won’t stop talking about getting liposuction.” Audrey rolled her big blue eyes, abandoning her now emptied glass on another table, ”She’s like ninety fucking pounds, it’s ridiculous.” Vanity coursed through Audrey’s veins like a poison, her family history punctuated with an obsession with beauty that could be traced back to the 18th century; it was unfortunate, but she supposed there were worse traits that one could inherit. She sighed, briefly despondent, but her attention regained as Gemma offered a similar level of honesty: ” “It’s…peppy. Just as much drama as there always has been. Oh, well, it’s going to get me a scholarship, so I’ll put up with them a while longer.”

[/i]

Ballet was Audrey’s one true love, so she was genuinely surprised when Gemma seemed entirely ready to forsake hers. Additionally, the outcast wondered what it would be like to actually have a group of friends with ‘drama’. The only group of friends Audrey ever had was through ballet, and even then, the only drama revolved around who was getting the lead, not who having sex in the bathroom. It was disheartening.

Officially inebriated, Audrey’s complexion had developed a pinkish hue and her eyes had glossed over. She leaned in too close as she spoke to Gemma, her depth perception almost entirely abandoned. ”And you? Your dancing – how’s that going?”[/i] The ballerina groaned and slumped her shoulders, clearly frustrated by the topic. Ordinarily, when the blonde was faced with a topic she disliked, she would be laconic and dismissive. However, the alcohol mixed with the Adderall created a reverse effect, causing Audrey to be uncharacteristically loquacious.

”Well, you know, after spending the entire summer getting fattened up like a prize pig, it didn’t really help me get any fucking roles when I transferred to this entirely new company.” She scrunched up her button nose, disgusted by the memory of her post-hospitalization weight, ”Seriously, I was like on an exercise restriction for three months, so I was inflexible as shit, and when I walked in to audition in September, they looked at me like I was a fucking joke.”

Gemma already knew about Audrey’s eating disorder and her stints in rehab; it was all a bunch of salacious family gossip. Although, this was the first time the blonde had spoken freely of her thoughts about the whole thing. Usually, Audrey would just nod her head and mumble a few polite “Okays” as though she cared about her health or her family’s worries. It was all bullshit as far as she was concerned—No one actually gave a shit, it was gracious facades upon gracious facades.

”But yeah, now that some things have changed,” she coughed her meaning obvious, “I’m dancing as a principal: The black swan.”




[/div]

to a bottle of wine on the nightstand

TAGS: ... AWKWARD
WORDS: 690
LYRICS: MICKEY AVALON - SO RICH SO PRETTY ,
OUTFIT: HERE

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[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

Gemma giggled at her cousin’s reassurance that if she ended up doing something stupid, she at least wouldn’t be alone. She might be in a coffin the next morning, but she’d be taking Audrey with her. “That’d just give Mom a heart attack, wouldn’t it?” She thought for a moment, then added, “She’d actually probably be more pleased that we were getting along.” After all, it wasn’t like this was one of her father’s staff parties (which, for some odd reason, they still expected her to sit through) where he would be publicly disgraced for his teenaged daughter acting a-fool. The people here tonight were mostly those still running off what was left of their own fortunes, and roughly eighty five percent of those were probably lying through their teeth. First rule of associating with your rich family: show no sign that you’re actually one and a half steps above homeless, she thought with a snort. That predicament had never been a problem for her – her dad’s work insured it.

She rolled her eyes at the other blonde’s comments about her own mother back in New York. The woman sounded almost exactly as the last time Gemma had seen or heard from her. “What does she want? Fire insurance against getting fat?” She knew well enough from observing her mother what the main line of her family was like when it came to appearances. Her parents weren’t quite as uptight, but both of her parents were still in excellent shape for being in their late thirties and looking her best was always “highly encouraged.” It wasn’t like she had much room to eat crap – cheerleading uniforms didn’t allow for it. Especially not the recreational competition teams’ uniforms. Shorts skirts and exposed midriffs – if you weren’t comfortable with your body, they had no place for you. That alone had kept Gemma in tip-top shape. As a result of so many years of cheer and gymnastics, she was thin but muscular – healthy.

Audrey was a different story. The younger girl’s frailness made Gemma sick to her stomach sometimes. The way some of her bones stuck out – she shuddered inwardly. She nodded, feigning sympathy (although it was probably quite transparent, considering her own inebriation), at Audrey’s dance woes, biting her tongue to keep from saying anything that might set the girl off. The last thing her parents would want was a drunk sixteen year old running around in a tizzy. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, trying to keep eye contact with the girl. She honestly didn’t approve of what Audrey was doing to her body. Gemma honestly thought she’d never looked better than when she’d first showed up in Hadley, fresh off her most recent stint in rehab. Healthy. She’d watched as she gradually shrank back down to whatever size she’d been before she came here, maybe even smaller – who knows? There had been several times where she had wanted to hold the girl down and force her to eat a Big Mac, even though Gemma herself would never even dream of eating one.

Her eyebrows rose at the news about her playing a principal role with her new company. “Oh, well, that’s wonderful – when will you perform?” she asked, genuinely interested. Gemma liked watching ballets and plays, she simply rarely had the time in which to do so. Perhaps she could find a way to go see it. Gemma would probably feel differently the next day when she was back in her right state of mind and could remember why they had hardly spoken before this evening. Gemma, the supposed angel child, and Audrey, who, in the words of some students: “got around.” “So, how often do you practice for this stuff?” she asked, hoping that maybe if she kept her talking, she wouldn’t notice the awkwardness Gemma was beginning to feel at how open Audrey was about her troubled relationship with food. She was also counting on the influence of the alcohol to help cover it up, but she wasn’t the best of liars sober. Intoxicated, she was probably rather pathetic.

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 601
NOTES: jealous of your writing...um, what?

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[audreyvandergraaf]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2v1ndpe.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] Come on and get it before I change my mind Come on kid don't waste my time So rich so pretty the best piece of ass in the whole damn city I like a girl who eats and brings it up a sassy little frassy with bulimia ►a girl who wakes up Suddenly Audrey became smug, her pale lips pressed tightly together as she reminisced, picturing the casting sheet tacked against the bulletin board just outside of the locker rooms. Some girls wept, their Dior mascara dripping down their puffed-up cheeks as they sank to the floor in agony—Ballet at Mayview Academy was no joke. Just to make it into the school’s company, one was expected to have danced for almost a decade, which is quite awhile considering the students were between the ages of 14 and 18. ”I’m sorry.”

[/i] Gemma managed, her voice soft with pity rather than empathy, and Audrey was unsure of how exactly that made her feel. Generally, people dislike being pitied; it makes them feel weak and useless, as though they are somehow less than. However, being looked down upon gave the ballerina the awareness of her terrifying fragility, as though she were a sick child, so vulnerable that the slightest push would cause her to break. It was a complex power to wield: The ability to evoke fear in your loved ones, to be the elephant in the room, untouchable.

Audrey relished in the pretty blonde’s discomfort as she changed the subject, ”Oh, well, that’s wonderful – when will you perform?”[/i] She brought her index finger to her mouth, tapping a manicured nail against her bottom lip as she mentally scrolled through calendar dates, ”April 15th, if I’m not mistaken…” her voice trailed off, still unsure of the date of opening night. This was an odd occurrence for Audrey; she was compulsive about memorizing dates and plans, so it must’ve been the bubbly instigating this intellectual fog.

”So, how often do you practice for this stuff?” her cousin interrupted her thought, still attempting to carry the dying conversation. Audrey applauded her effort, impressed that she was actually putting forth an honest attempt at being friendly and cordial, ”Every evening after classes, for at least three hours…” she grinned, impressed with her inhuman level of dedication to ballet, ”But we practice for at least six hours on the weekend, you know, to make up for the slack during the week.” Dance was incredibly demanding, but if one ever expected to achieve an actual career in it, it would require daily performance that one executed with wholeheartedness—The half-assed and the uninspired would be escorted to the door.

The sixteen year old placed a hand on her hip, waiting for a delivery of adulation because of her hard work. However, before any interaction could proceed, a bell rung out throughout the home: ”Dinner will be served in ten minutes, please find your seats!”[/i] The sea of arrogance that Audrey was swimming in had suddenly dried up, her movements now riddled with anxiety at the thought of eating with company. Despite her frailness, the high school junior was still eating; she had yet to reach the point where she’d fast for days at a time. Still, the idea of sharing a meal was horrifying, although Audrey knew this moment was inevitable; she stood in silence.





[/div]

to a bottle of wine on the nightstand

TAGS: THE SHIT HITS THE FAN ,
WORDS: 500 + ,
LYRICS: MICKEY AVALON - SO RICH SO PRETTY ,
OUTFIT: HERE

template made by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0

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[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

Gemma nodded with each answer Audrey gave. She didn’t know if Audrey was expecting her to find the amount of time she spent practicing appalling, because it honestly sounded like only a bit longer than her own cheer schedule, between the school and recreational teams and her biweekly gymnastics classes. “Oh, that’s cool. I could never put up with the same people for so long. I at least get to change groups halfway through.” Gemma was blessed with a quiet, pleasant thirty minute drive between the different practices during which she could clear her mind before taking on the next group of adolescent females.

The dedication required to cheer for Mayview was roughly an hour and a half after classes every week day except for Friday and a weekly visit to the local cheer gym on Saturday mornings. Her recreational cheer practices were three nights a week until three weeks before a competition when they were held every night except Sundays. As a tumbler and a flyer, she also took two hours of gymnastics on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Gemma didn’t like to have too much free time – she preferred to stay busy. She dropped the officiated gymnastics classes during the spring semester to fit in her tennis practices, and during the summer she participated in a recreational soccer league. Her parents were fine to let her do so many things as long as she kept her grades up, which she had managed to do so far with a bit of help.

”Dinner will be served in ten minutes, please find your seats!” Gemma automatically turned around, watching as the sea of slightly similar faces moved toward the tables set up throughout the back half of the bottom floor of their house. She looked around and immediately spotted her little brother trying to sneak upstairs. ”Tyler!” she shouted, causing a few heads to turn in her direction. She ignored them, crossing the floor quickly to her brother, frozen a few steps above her. She grabbed his shirt sleeve, pulling him close so that only he could hear what she said next. “Get down here before you embarrass mom and dad, or I’ll break your X-Box into a thousand tiny pieces,” she growled before turning away and rolling her eyes. She returned to Audrey’s side, ignoring the middle finger that her brother had no doubt given her the second she turned her back in the now nearly empty room.

“Sorry about that. He can be…difficult.” She knew Audrey probably didn’t give a care about her relationship with her brother – it was the alcohol working on her brain. She typically became rambling and overly apologetic when she was under the influence, and champagne magnified these effects. So far she was managing to keep the wandering thoughts inside her head, but the apologies were always ready on the tip of her tongue – they were an inseparable part of her, even when she was sober. “Shall we find our seats?” she asked, taking a step toward the dining room. She knew there were assigned seats at the tables, but she honestly had no idea where anyone was seated. Gemma figured all of the under-eighteens would be seated together as always.

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 538
NOTES: --

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[audreyvandergraaf]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2v1ndpe.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] Come on and get it before I change my mind Come on kid don't waste my time So rich so pretty the best piece of ass in the whole damn city I like a girl who eats and brings it up a sassy little frassy with bulimia ►a girl who wakes up Audrey looked on as Gemma scolded her younger brother, her fist clenched tightly around the collar of his shirt as she whispered something menacing into his ear. The younger boy seemed to stiffen up once his sister let go of him, so Audrey assumed that it was just another instance of Gemma attempting to keep the unruly boy in line. When Audrey and Gemma were younger, they used to pick on the littlest Taylor all the time, and usually they avoided getting in trouble for it. The entire family viewed the girls as perfectly behaved little angels; clearly, this is no longer the popular opinion amongst the relatives, at least in Audrey’s case. ”Sorry about him, he can be difficult.”

[/i] the cheerleader apologized, a vision of politeness as per usual. Audrey figured that Gemma had forgotten exactly how much she actually knew about her little brother, but she decided that it would be best to simply nod and remain silent. The older girl was bound to carry the conversation; after all, it was the proper thing to do. ”Shall we find our seats?” Gemma gestured toward the dining room, walking with perfect poise despite the lethal combination of champagne and high heels. She envied her older cousin’s unaffected elegance.

As the ballerina stepped lightly behind the other blonde’s lead, she narrowed her light eyes and began to identify the faces she passed, each of them turning the other way as she drew nearer. First there was Aunt Margaret, forcing a smile as she unknowingly clutched her purse, wearing a Dolce & Gabbana number that was at least a few seasons old—Apparently there was a new ‘nanny’ in the picture that was draining certain overseas bank accounts. Not particularly surprising considering her husband’s voluminous history of infidelity. Oh well, Audrey smirked in condescension; she’ll just have to get over it.

Rupert, Audrey and Gemma’s second cousin once-removed, shielded his ruddy face with a wine glass as the two girls passed by. His face was bloated and his hairline was budding with salty beads of sweat; his cell-phone probably buzzing in his coat pocket as his sponsor attempted to rescue him from the bottle. Mission failed.

Finally reaching the table designated for “young adults,” Audrey took a seat directly next to Gemma, finding an unusual comfort in her cousin’s presence. The two girls obviously weren’t friends anymore, but once the ballerina was forced into a stressful environment, she was reminded of the bond the two girls once shared.

At the center of the table, there were ornate glass pitchers, appropriately filled with a variety of non-alcoholic beverages. The Hors d’oeuvres had just been served, centering on an elaborate display of canapé seated beside the black and red caviar, just behind a plate of deviled eggs. Audrey flinched, scrunching up her little nose as she watched her family begin to eat, enthusing about the catering and biting into French little pastries; it was absolutely revolting.

Noticing that her aunt was keeping a keen eye on her, Audrey resisted the urge to vomit as she scooped up some caviar and ladled the expensive fish eggs onto her plate. Taking a moment, the girl pieced together the events leading up to this moment, suddenly realizing that she had fallen so easily into her mother’s trap; it all made sense now. The only reason her mother forced her into this unpleasant family gathering was to keep on tabs on whether or not the frail girl was eating, which was admittedly clever.

Thus, Audrey shrugged her shoulders in defeat, attempting not to scream profanities as she slowly spooned the caviar into her mouth, taking her time to chew and ultimately swallow the rubbery little spheres. She then reached for her water glass, hoping to wash away the filth of gluttony; she desperately needed a distraction.

Attempting not to think as she allowed the calories to be absorbed into her body, Audrey turned toward her cousin and leaned in, whispering into Gemma’s ear, ”Please, let’s figure out a way to make this snooze-fest at least remotely interesting.”



[/div]

to a bottle of wine on the nightstand

TAGS: LET THE GAMES BEGIN ;) ,
WORDS: 680 ,
LYRICS: MICKEY AVALON - SO RICH SO PRETTY ,
OUTFIT: HERE

template made by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0

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[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

Her mother had set aside far too many seats for their table, leaving Gemma with a wide array of open seats to choose from. Most of her younger cousins were gathered around one end of the table, arguing over some silly nonsense that she cared nothing about. With hardly a glance in their direction, she took a seat near the opposite end of the table. It honestly surprised her that Audrey took the seat next to her, considering the open spaces. If her mom didn’t have a heart attack before, she surely would when she saw them freely sitting together. Gemma was undoubtedly glad for the company. She didn’t truly know what it was like to eat alone, but she could imagine it wasn’t often enjoyable.

She looked around the room as various family members began consuming the various light foods running down the center of each table. You could tell who was used to such events by the neatness and grace with which they both prepared and emptied their plate. Others simply lobbed spoonfuls of various things on their plate before inhaling them as quickly as a vacuum cleaner. Gemma typically found the idea of watching other people eat disgusting, but her only other option was to choke down a plate of foods that she found equally, if not more, gross. She resigned herself to mindlessly nibbling on a couple of crackers as she stared blankly at the glass of water she had poured herself.

Realizing her gradually sinking posture, the blonde sat up with a start, looking around to ensure that her mother hadn’t seen her. The older woman glanced in her direction every so often, but never directly at her. It always stopped slightly before her – Audrey. She chanced a glance in her cousin’s direction and noticed that surprisingly enough, the girl was eating. She attempted to keep her face a mask of perfect indifference, but Gemma was honestly shocked. It was no secret to her family that Audrey had an eating disorder – Gemma couldn’t help but wonder if she was playing nice to please her elders.

“Please, let’s figure out a way to make this snooze-fest at least remotely interesting.” Gemma felt the tickle of her cousin’s warm breath on her ear, but she didn’t turn her head. She simply smiled and replied, “We’ll think of something, but in the mean time, I have an idea that might make this part at least slightly more bearable.” She broke from her still, statuesque poise and began searching the room for one face in particular. She spotted him across the room and stared at him until he looked her way. She motioned for the waiter to come to her. She knew him quite well – her parents had hired him to work at many parties they had hosted over the past couple of years. Gemma also knew that with just a little bit of effort, she could get practically anything you want.

He arrived at her side, leaning over her shoulder on the side opposite Audrey. She whispered her request in his ear, along with yet another sweet nothing to win him over. He smiled as he slipped away with an “empty,” non-opaque pitcher to fulfill the order. “It’s probably wrong of me to do that, but he just makes it too easy. I just can’t help myself,” she said, mostly to herself, her eyes following him until he left the room. He was either too stupid or too controlled by his hormones to care or even notice that nothing would ever come of their relationship.

She turned back to Audrey, knowing that the younger girl had undoubtedly heard her musings. She sighed as, only minutes later, the same waiter returned with a pitcher full of something much more fun than Splenda-fied Kool-Aid. She flashed him a charming smile and thanked him before he returned to his place along the wall. Gemma drained her glass of water in two long, rather un-ladylike gulps and refilled it with the wine that was coincidentally enough rather close to the same color of the container’s previous contents. “Now, if we can just make it another hour or so, then the real bash will begin. We could slip out and no one would ever notice.”

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 713
NOTES: --

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[audreyvandergraaf]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2v1ndpe.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] Come on and get it before I change my mind Come on kid don't waste my time So rich so pretty the best piece of ass in the whole damn city I like a girl who eats and brings it up a sassy little frassy with bulimia ►a girl who wakes up Audrey looked on as her stunning older cousin attracted the attention of a bashful waiter, her sultry gaze proving enough to lure the unsuspecting boy over. Again she witnessed Gemma whispering something into another person’s ear, although this time she assumed her words were of a seductive nature, and offered a shrug, understanding completely where her cousin was coming from. ”It’s probably wrong of me to do that, but he just makes it too easy. I just can’t help myself.”

[/i]

The sixteen year old smirked, amused by the situation at hand; as far as she was concerned, if a guy was only interested in getting into your pants, then he deserved whatever merciless treatment he received. After all, men were pigs, and Audrey was more than happy to take advantage of their blind desire for sex to degrade them.

The ballerina followed the fortunately inconspicuous pitcher of wine as it moved from the innocent boy’s grasp to the table just before her. She was grateful for her older cousin’s resourcefulness as she reached for the alcohol, pouring herself a tall glass of the plum colored liquid. The girl then lifted her drink in a half-hearted toast, opening up her throat and tilting her head back as she downed nearly half the glass in a few seconds. It may have seemed improper, but in dire circumstances such as this one, certain social niceties must be abandoned in favor of survival.

”Now, if we can just make it another hour or so, then the real bash will begin. We could slip out and no one would ever notice.”[/i] Audrey recoiled at the thought of staying present for at least another hour; she didn’t want to stay seated at this table for another damn minute. Thus, the frail girl began to think, attempting to find an escape route when a devilish idea began to blossom.

Swiftly, Audrey tore into her purse, pulling out her cell phone and opening up her “contacts” list, her pale eyes electrified with uncontainable excitement. Within moments, she began thumbing away at the touch-screen keyboard, her fingers going mad at until she pressed the “send” key, her destructive mission now set into action. Casually, she leaned in toward Gemma, her gaze gesturing toward the phone that she held covertly beneath the table. The lit-up screen read the following, “Rager @ 7 Maple Drive. Free food & drinks! Bring booze, blunts, & bitches!” The message had been sent to all 246 of Audrey’s contacts, which included the majority of juniors and seniors at Mayview Academy.

Attempting to stifle her laughter, the ballerina looked over toward her cousin as a curtain of blonde hair separated the two, the older girl’s eyes squinting as she attempted to read the likely shaking screen. Audrey hoped that Gemma wouldn’t respond too negatively, but she was no longer capable of accurately predicting the cheerleader’s behavior; they had grown too far apart. Regardless, the word had been sent out, and it would be less than fifteen minutes before a horde of rowdy teenagers would arrive, prepared to party their asses off. This was going to be a fucking riot.




[/div]

to a bottle of wine on the nightstand

TAGS: MAJOR RAGER! ,
WORDS: 523 ,
LYRICS: MICKEY AVALON - SO RICH SO PRETTY ,
OUTFIT: HERE

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[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

Over the rim of her glass, Gemma read the little screen angled in her direction. She swallowed a bit heavily and set the glass down, coughing slightly as she choked on the last bit of the wine. She was attempting to keep her composure for as long as possible – if she freaked out right now, everyone would notice, leaving her with no choice but to explain and rat Audrey out. Under normal circumstances, Audrey would have seized upon the opportunity with eager, claw-like fingers, but under the influence of so much alcohol, her priorities were quite different. Her mind was going haywire, firing off SOS signals, wondering if there was anything she could do to ease the blow to her mother that the next hour would bring. Meanwhile, she was outwardly trying to act as though nothing was wrong. “Well, we won’t be bored any more. But would you like a pine box or something nicer?”

She was ninety-nine percent sure that her mom would pin the coming onslaught of rowdy high schoolers on Gemma and Audrey. Even if Gemma were to throw her cousin under the bus, she’d still get hit. Her mom would demand to know why she hadn’t told someone as soon as she saw it. Gemma sighed, looking around the room at anywhere but Audrey. Such an action wasn’t too difficult, considering the enormity of the open area in which they had been seated. Most of the bottom floor was completely open, making their home perfect for parties. Gemma knew this well, considering she had thrown more than one while her parents were out of town. She had never, however, thrown one in the middle of her mom’s birthday party. It would be a new experience, to say the least – if not her last experience.

“I hope you’re prepared to endure the wrath of my mom, Audrey,” she commented, pausing to take another sip of wine. “Because we’re going to be the first ones she tracks down.” If things really started to go downhill, she could always just duck out a side door, hidden amongst the wave of arriving teenagers. At that moment, there was a sharp, loud knock at the front door. It echoed throughout the house, causing everyone inside to pause and turn toward the door. In her peripheral vision, Gemma saw her mom rise, probably expecting it to be some aunt or uncle deciding to be fashionably late. Gemma started to stand to follow her, then thought it might be best not to call attention to herself. Several people were straining their necks to see around various columns or wall partitions.

Once the clicking of her mother’s heels was more echo than direct noise, Gemma quickly slipped behind a partition and maneuvered her way to have a hidden view of the front door. She watched as her mom pulled open the door, the shock registering on her face as several rowdy, party-ready kids pushed past the upright socialite and made their way into the house. Gemma silently slipped back into her seat beside Audrey and murmured, “Well, I suppose the after-party has begun a bit earlier than planned.”

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 526
NOTES: [ GEMMA ON THE OUTSIDE ] [ GEMMA ON THE INSIDE ]

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[audreyvandergraaf]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2v1ndpe.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 200px; height: 500px;] Come on and get it before I change my mind Come on kid don't waste my time So rich so pretty the best piece of ass in the whole damn city I like a girl who eats and brings it up a sassy little frassy with bulimia ►a girl who wakes up Turning to face her cousin, Audrey paid close attention to the cheerleader’s expressions; her body language exuded cool collectedness, but there was a subtle tone of fear in the girl’s slightly wavering voice. ”Well, we won’t be bored anymore. But would you like a pine box or something nicer?”

[/i] The ballerina snorted, throwing the wine down her gullet, nearly dropping the fragile glass as she drunkenly shoved it back on to the table.

”Please,” she began, twirling a lock of platinum hair around her bony finger, ”I’m going to be buried in a glass coffin.” Despite being a mere sixteen years of age, Audrey had fantasized about her funeral procession for years. She imagined her mother and father standing before an empty plot, reticent and cold, waiting as the pallbearers passed in their Tom Ford suits, drawing nearer as they moved to lower her weightless body into the hardened ground. She always imagined that she would die in the winter. A live band would perform “Hold on Magnolia” while peonies and lilies were tossed onto her grave. The epitaph would read: Life begins on the other side of despair.

Serene as she imagined her ultimate demise, the little blonde snapped out of her daydream as her cousin continued to speak, ”I hope you’re prepared to endure the wrath of my mom, Audrey, because we’re going to be the first ones she tracks down.”[/i] The ballerina rolled her big blue eyes, completely unruffled by the potential “wrath” of Mrs. Taylor. Audrey was practically brought to term in a dance studio, and she was so accustomed to being habitually berated that the idea of her poised and proper aunt attempting to admonish her was laughable.

Before she could respond, Gemma had stood up and began to make her way toward the door, abandoning Audrey with the enticing pitcher of wine and the gaggle of young cousins making a mess at the end of the table. Scoffing, the ballerina poured another glass, looking on discreetly as she sensed her cousin’s mounting horror as the pretty girl slipped quietly back into her chair, side-eying the doorway. ”Well, I suppose the after-party has begun a bit earlier than planned.”

Audrey smirked devilishly, coyly nursing her glass as her peers began to rush in like an avalanche, her unsuspecting relatives gawking at the teens in confusion as they rolled in kegs and lugged thirty-packs behind them. ”Mm, let the games begin.” Audrey commented, finishing what must’ve been her fifth glass before standing up and calling out sweetly, ”Oh Kenneth, I’m so glad you came!” The blonde held out her fragile arms and rushed toward a longhaired boy carrying a backpack that was likely stuffed with weed. She threw herself onto him, her short t-shirt dress riding up, revealing her rail-like thighs as she planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

If the hypocritical, holier-than-thou Mrs. Vandergraaf wanted a full report on Audrey’s behavior, she would get one that was worth reading.

[/div]

to a bottle of wine on the nightstand

TAGS: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG,
I LOST MY MUSE FOR AWHILE D: ,
WORDS: 495 ,
LYRICS: MICKEY AVALON - SO RICH SO PRETTY ,
OUTFIT: HERE

template made by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0

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[GEMMA AISLYNN TAYLOR]

Gemma couldn’t help but roll her eyes, a small smirk on her face, at her cousin’s comment. For as long as she could remember, Audrey had been one for the dramatic and the glamorous. Looking at her cousin, a glass coffin seemed to be a completely plausible thing. Gemma, on the other hand, preferred subtler, simpler ways of making a show. Jumping slightly as the younger girl practically slammed her wine glass around, Gemma slowly scooted the pitcher away from Audrey. The stick-like girl had to be somewhere between wasted and in need of a hospital by now, and she preferred trying to avoid the second outcome. Of course, Gemma herself would probably be in one by morning once her parents got a hold of her.

Her eyebrows raised as Audrey stood and began to disappear into the rowdy crowd, quickly attaching herself to a guy that probably would have made Gemma turn and run in the opposite direction. These partygoers were Audrey’s people, not hers; they definitely ran in different circles. “And begin they shall,” she muttered to herself, as she eyed her mother searching the room, no doubt looking for either her or Audrey.

She met her mother’s eyes and could almost feel the icy daggers aimed in her direction. Gemma practically threw her chair away from her and took off into the crowd behind Audrey, leaving her shoes under the table. Maybe they would still be there later. She just wanted to be short enough to hide amongst the horde of teenagers, and considering her natural height of five-foot-eight, heels weren’t her friend. She quickly found Audrey and looped her slim, muscular arm through the other girl’s frail, bony one, whispering in her ear, “The supreme overlady is on the hunt. Just thought you ought to know.” With that, she slipped away from Audrey as quickly as she had come, leaving in search of a familiar face. Surely out of all the people that had been invited, Gemma was friends with one of them.

As she searched, she kept a watchful eye over her shoulder for her hawk-eyed mother. Thankfully, the lower floor of their house was quite large and broken up by several wall partitions. At one point, she slipped up the stairs to quickly change into something more comfortable than her prim and proper party dress (also to help blend in) and to lock her bedroom door – she definitely didn’t want any drunk teenagers in there doing God-knows-what. Not paying attention as she descended the stairs, she stumbled on the last step, falling into a hard, muscular shoulder and almost immediately hitting the floor, the back of her skull smacking the edge of a step. She winced and looked up to see a hand in her face. She followed it up the attached arm all the way to the face, and her face broke into a small smile as her face flushed, recognizing a football player that she had had a crush on in ninth grade. “Thanks, Garrett,” she said, accepting his offer and brushing herself off. “Some party, huh?” she said, glancing around as she saw Audrey with her platinum hair shining like a beacon a few yards away.

WEARING: THIS
WORDS: 526
NOTES: it's all good. i'll make a new outfit for gemma eventually...

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