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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Sept 13, 2011 17:01:24 GMT -5
 GOSSIP, GOSSIP NIGGAS JUST STOP IT [/size] EVERYBODY KNOW I'M A MOTHAFUCKIN' M O N S T E R ! ★ [/center] The only healthy addiction Altair had was coffee, and even that was debateable. Still, it was better than her usual vices. Like the Vicodin she overdosed on this morning. Purging made her feel sick, but luckily her sisters hadn’t been around to witness what had happened. Not like they didn’t know there was something up with her, just like she was well aware that there was a lot up with them. After dressing herself in short and a tank top, with her heels and Carreras that she always liked to accessorize with, Altair decided that she wouldn’t waste away in the apartment. Her days and nights now have been filled with partying and the usual reckless stunts. Working the streets, working the pole, work, work, work. But always she got up bright and early in the morning to greet the sun, bags under her eyes concealed by foundation and eyeliner. Her entire life was one big cover up, but you’d never hear her say that. No, instead she went out flaunting her trainwreck of a life.
Timmies was her venue for her post-party hangover that morning, but one wouldn’t be able to tell anything was wrong as her blue eyes were still sharp behind those sunglasses. She walked steadily, confidently as she always did, taking her long gait from the stage to the streets and back again. It was just in her nature, the way she acted all the time. And speaking of nature, she supposed the clerk at Timmies weren’t too fond of her snippy demeanor and words, and she didn’t care. Altair didn’t go around trying to brighten others’ days, in fact it was the opposite. It wasn’t her responsibility to make the pathetic clerks working the cash register feel good about themselves. If they wanted warm reception from everyone, then they shouldn’t have chose customer service as an occupation. These were her sour thoughts as she paid for her coffee.
She decided that she should step outside to light up, and as she smoked she thought about how much she preferred winter to the atrocious heat that is summer. Hell, at least she got to show off her body. She took a lot of pride in her looks, being an ex-model could do that to a girl. She flicked ash to the ground, and glanced up at her shiny Ducati in the parking lot. Others would be jealous, she hoped, of the glory that is her bike. She always thought it was a shame that she had to keep it downtown. It deserved to be resting on pavement in mansion country. But whatever. As long as the triplets were going the way they were going, any hope for moving on up was lost. And she wasn’t about to step up to change anything.
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Post by david on Sept 14, 2011 15:21:29 GMT -5
 Every morning was like the one before. The same routine had been continuing for the past year. Eventually it would grow tiring, but Matthew had yet found anything boring in his routine. His day always started out with a jog in the dim morning light, the grass still covered with a light layer of dew. Matthew would run for an hour or so, music blaring in his ears. After his run,he would get back to his room, and take a shower. Of course, this would sound boring to most people, but it always gave Matthew a chance to think, expecially if there was a storm in the middle of the night.
After his shower, Matthew had spent some time getting ready. Like most guys, it was quick, but long enough to make himself look good. He stepped out of his room locking the door behind him. Matthew was dressed in a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, a gray peacoat, and a scarf around his neck. Stepping out into the cool morning air, he slipped into his red Eclipse, sitting in the parking lot outside of his room. His engine hummed to life, and his heat was turned on instantly. Though it was chilly outside, Matthew was thankful that it wasn't blistering hot, or at least freezing yet.
Throwing his car into reverse, he backed out of his parking spot and was quickly on his way to Maple Hollow, where he would have his morning coffee. MapleHollow wasn't too far fromthe school and Matthew had made there in no time. Quickly finding a place to park, a couple of spaces from Timmies, Matthew was soon making his way to the door of the coffee shop, though by the doorthere was a blonde girl standing there, smoking. In Matthew's eyes, she didn't look quite old enough to be smoking, but he wouldn't be the one to say anything, well that was until he saw who it was.
Standing before him was Altair Bennett. Matthew didn't know her personally, but he had heard enough about her. The complete bitch of the tenth grade. Making his way past her, he stopped for a moment, "Are you even old enough to smoke that?" He said without much emotion. Yeah, he was picking, but there wasn't much better to do, and he could always use a little entertainment in his life. Though he didn't say much to her, his mind was already moving. He had heard a lot about her, and of course being the judgmental person he was, he was clearly much better than she was. Looking back at her for a moment, he smirked and started to head into the coffee shop.
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Post by ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT on Sept 14, 2011 17:37:02 GMT -5
GOSSIP, GOSSIP NIGGAS JUST STOP IT [/size] EVERYBODY KNOW I'M A MOTHAFUCKIN' M O N S T E R ! ★ [/center] Busying herself with looking at the sky, she didn’t notice the car pull into the parking lot. Not like she would have cared, anyone. Right now she was just focused on getting over this stupid hangover. She was pro at ignoring that kind of thing, but it would be easier if she could just move past it. But it wasn’t too much of a concern. She didn’t have work till tonight, even though she knew she should be taking day shifts for her sisters’ sakes. Still, she wasn’t about to be one of those dirty little bitches with their small tits and stretch marks that worked during days. That was when you knew you hit low. Girls who did it for extra money when it came to college were at least respectable. Not that she considered her occupation to be as derelict as others seemed to—it was the women’s choice to show off what they got and drain men of their money. Maybe those who looked down on those women where people whose spouses had cheated on them or some shit. She didn’t know, and she didn’t think too hard on it because she never thought about anything.
Altair could have admired the guy’s gusto if she had the capacity to care about anyone other than her sisters and herself. Not many people had the balls to say something like that to strangers. But the fact that it was an ignorant comment made admiration that much more impossible. She didn’t even recognize this guy. Wait. Maybe a little. But where had she seen him? Whatever. She blew smoke in his direction before saying, ”Is that any of your business?” Somehow, he’d managed to pinpoint one of her pet peeves in a most likely unintentional way. Altair was not a little girl, she didn’t look like a little kid, and she felt her anger rising like the smoke from her cigarette. Taking it out, she took another sip of her coffee. Unlike the Vicodin, it didn’t do well to quell her temper. If anything, it just assisted it like a turbo-charged jet attached to her anger. There wasn’t too much giving it away on her features—especially since she was wearing sunglasses, and a lot can be told by a person’s eyes. But still, the fact that he couldn’t see her eyes may have been better. It successfully veiled anything.
She noticed him walking away, and she snorted. ”You can talk shit, but you can’t back it up?” It was a harmless comment, but the way he’d smirked at her revealed he probably didn’t have her health in mind. And she wasn’t happy about it. Altair knew how to both talk shit and back it up, and if this little fucker wanted some, then she would dish out. She was a fighter—not professionally, of course, but she’d gotten into enough crap in her life to know how to scrape—and she was ready to go fisticuffs even this early in the morning. Never did it cross her mind that this was not a normal reaction to a rather inocuous comment. But you didn’t just say that to a person—she believed herself to be at least somewhat justified for the fact that he was rude.
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