* JUST LIKE A BEAUTY QUEEN && andy

[ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT]

What are you doing here, Altair?

It was the sane part of her brain arguing against the decisions she was currently making. It was the part of her brain that warned her that if she continued to do these kinds of things, she’d only be furthering her self-destructive behavior. But it was just a party. It was just a few drinks. It was just a habit. And she had worse habits, habits she was trying to kick. Like Vicodin. And it was going decently well, now that she had a shrink. She still hated the acknowledgement that she needed any kind of help. It was for Rowena, though, and she was willing to sacrifice her pride for the girl. Altair was ecstatic to see that Ro’s interest in designing had returned, absolutely thrilled. But it made her think.

What did she have?

Altair still had her interest in modelling after all. And in a way, she still modeled. But she didn’t want to be an ‘exotic dancer’ for the rest of her life. She knew she deserved better. Modelling was what destroyed her, however, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go into that kind of life again. But what else could she do? Motorcycle racing. The thought made her smirk as she sat on the counter of the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and flicking the ash into the sink. A half-empty bottle of beer sat next to her. But that was a lifestyle that coud be dangerous, and she wanted to stay alive for Ro. That girl didn’t need to lose anything else. Modelling in bike magazines? If she was the loony type, she may have laughed out loud at the thought. But she didn’t. It was hard to laugh sometimes.

So what, you’re going to lurk at parties for the rest of your life? No. She was meant for better, she knew that. The triplets had been meant for more than they got. Syria was going to be great and— Altair stopped the thought process in its tracks. She couldn’t think of the girl and all that she could have become if she had just lived. I should have protected her. But she didn’t. She did nothing. And it was something she had to live with. She wondered if there was any way she could redeem herself, if there was salvation for her. Altair didn’t think so. She’d pretty much betrayed Syria—she didn’t deserve redemption. In all honesty, she didn’t deserve the life she believed she did. What she deserved was the overdose that Syria had endured. Unfortunately, her mind wandered and wondered what it felt like to OD? What was it like? She shivered a bit, the room cold thanks to cranked up air-conditioning in the summer time. She only wore a tank-top and short, strappy heels that cost more than she should be spending. It was something else she needed to get a handle on. She was just a crap person, wasn’t she? No, she thought determinedly, you’re perfect.

She also seemed to be a pathological liar. She listened to the music pounding from the other room, the people screaming over it. Some milled into the kitchen to get more beers from the fridge or make out or whatever the fuck they wanted to do. And is this where she really wanted to be? She convinced herself that partying in itself wasn’t a bad thing.

[xmarci2]

Andy Skye had not gotten herself drunk enough to puke in a very long time. She used to do it in a sort of self-destructive way of lashing out after she was cast from her home like a leper, but eventually she girl decided that it was better to be healthy and able to dance correctly than to numb the pain every once in awhile with too much booze and bad company. So now she stayed with the bad—yet amusing—company, and laid a fierce limit on her intake of alcohol. Enough partying in her life allowed her to know her limit backwards and forwards. And here she was, in the bathroom of some person she'd never met, puking her guts out.

It really didn't last long. And practice—and shorter hair—allowed her to keep the vile substance off of herself. Still, it was not a pleasant situation, and the discomfort did bring just a little of her better judgment back. No more booze. The wind graduate thought to herself with vigor. No more booze. Other little lapses in judgment? Well, they were just part of the ride, now weren't they? Andy picked herself up off the tile floor, spat into the toilet, then turned to the sink. After a few minutes of washing out her mouth and drinking a bit of water to wash the taste away, she no longer felt like something the cat had dragged in. Well, that was a plus.

Once she was out in the party again, in her usual skimpy-yet-well-fitted party wear (that was the good thing about wearing dancing clothes—it was pretty stable), she very deliberately grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with water from the tap herself. No trusting other people to not take advantage of an impaired girl and give her even more bad-decision juice. Once she was sipping at this, the girl cast about the party for someone she knew at least a little bit. Normally she was trustworthy enough to come on her own and take care of herself on her own, but some very small part of her was present enough to know that right now was not one of those times. So when she spotted the familiar shape of Altair in the crowd, Andy made a beeline straight for the fire girl.

”I am not fit for driving right now.” Andy said as a greeting, pulling her keys from her pocket and holding them out to Altair. They didn't know each other all that well, but they worked together and Andy was ready to trust her with this. ”In fact I'm really not fit for anything, am I? Here I am, totally out of my wits and one instant away from asking you for a smoke.” This would make an impression on Altair because Andy was firmly—firmly—against smoking, because if she ever hurt her lungs enough not to be able to dance then she would have absolutely nothing. Leaning against the counter next to Altair, Andy shook her head.

”And you see that guy over there? He winked at me and I gave him a smile back. Nice and pretty as can be—no attitude or anything.” She laughed a little, ”Yup, I'm in trouble, Alt. And all I've got is a firecracker as a potential savior.” Andy threw a grin in the other girl's direction, then drank a little more of her water. Damn, puke tasted like battery acid. But she kept the grimace on the inside, allowing herself a little time before she reverted back to her super-bitch attitude. After all, she was toning it down in order to get Altair to back her up if something went to shit. Andy was well aware of the potential for drugs in the drinks.

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[ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT]

Not minding the rather abrupt greeting—who cared about formalities anyway?—the Fire girl blinked at the keys offered to her. Altair snorted as she took them, stuffing them in her back pocket. Her Victoria’s Secret compartment was for her wallet. ”Jesus Christ, Andy,” she said, shaking her head with a sardonic smile, flicking more ash into the sink. ”Smoking? Never thought you’d resort to such a thing.” She’d never seen the older girl smoke, after all, and her words were especially ironic as she had a cancer stick in her mouth at that moment. It was beginning to feel like she had another addiction she needed to take care of. There’s nothing wrong with you, Altair kept repeating in her head, as if saying it enough could make it true. Even though she understood that she was as close to death as her sisters. Ro’s not going to die. No, the older sibling would take care of that, would make sure that nothing ever happened to take them away from each other. She didn’t care what she had to sacrifice.

Blowing smoke rings, Altair returned her gaze to the girl leaning against the counter, her face neutral with the flicker of humor underneath. If you were on her bad side, you never got to see that little witty Brit underneath. And for a long time, everyone had been on her bad side. She realized now that chilling out and not attacking everything she saw in sight would be the best option if she wanted to take care of her sister. And herself, as well. The Fire girl didn’t know how much to tell her sister, but she knew she should start being honest. Especially about where a lot of her money was going to. ”How much did you have to drink?” she said, her voice firm as it ever was. Confident. Sure. Like she hadn’t just buried her sister. Andy seemed as out of it as she said she was. It took more than the beer sitting next to Altair to get her drunk, and she figured it was the same for mostly everyone. Hard alcohol was needed to successfully get her plastered—a few cheap beers wasn’t good enough for her.

Flicking her cool blue eyes over to the guy who was pointed out, she said with her usual sarcasm, ”Spit in his drink and show him how nice and pretty you really are.” Okay, she had the feeling this bitch—and that term was actually used ‘affectionately’ for once—was seriously hammered. Especially since she was drinking water, Altair noticed when taking a glance at the cup. Altair snorted again, because if it wasn’t that, then it was her hard, barking laugh as if what she found funny was insulting to the other person. Even if it wasn’t. ”You’re lucky I’m not planning on getting completely plastered tonight.” She didn’t do that, unless she knew the person whose house she would be crashing at. Because otherwise, she wouldn’t leave her Ducati anywhere. Besides, alcohol made her a decent person. She didn’t want that, now did she?

[xmarci2]

”Oh please, don't draw his attention here now, I am not fit for his presence.” She said, throwing back the water as if it were a shot and tossing it toward the trash can. It missed, by a good two feet or so. Oh well. She pouted a bit, leaning farther back against the counter, ”Well, if it couldn't go in, it might've had the good decency to soak one of those slutty party girls on it's way down.” She was mostly talking to herself, but as usual, the things that came to her mind came out her mouth, especially when alcohol was bre4aking down her inhibitions. And it would have been funny to see that busty chick by the trach can to scream as the icy water seeped into her undergarments. Oh well.

She shook her head. ”Me neither, girl. Although please, please, don't let me. Manhandle me or something.” And at this point, Altair wouldn't have the least bit of trouble doing so. Andy was smaller than her, built more petite, and half past smashed. So as she glanced toward her friend, she thought for a second how she really hoped she didn't decide to pick a fight with the fire girl. Sure, she was eons ahead of her when it came to power control, but how much help was that going to be when she was drunk? Not much. When Altair asked how much she'd had to drink, Andy shrugged, ”Too much. I was stupid angry at my stupid he-bitch of a brother, so I guess I...indulged.”

At least she'd tossed before she'd lost all capacity to stop herself from drinking anymore. If it weren't for the presence of Altair, she'd already be in trouble. But if she'd been much worse, she wouldn't have sought the fire girl's company to begin with. So it could be worse. Still, it usually didn't take so little to get her smashed, ”Someone might've drugged me too, I guess.” She said, not thinking as she words spilled out, ”But if he did then he must've lost track of me, 'cause no one's tried anything yet. Just don't.... Don't leave me alone, ok?”

Andy snorted out some laughter, ”Spit? How 'bout puke? That bitchy enough for the both of us? Or would that just be pitiable?” The words came because she was starting to feel a little queasy again. But she was also a firm believer in mind over matter, and refused to let herself hurl again. She'd already cleaned herself up, after all. Andy nodded vigorously, ”Yes, yes I am. I would be screwed to all shit if you were.”

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[ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT]

Depth perception, off, Altair noted. She snorted in her usual Altair-way, where it sounded like it could turn into a laugh but never did. ”Malicious today?” the Fire girl ased at Andy’s comment. Surprisingly enough, she’d laid off of shit that could result in a dangerous fight. Instead of going balls-out all the time, she thought for the first time in her life before doing something that could potentiall end up with her hurt or dead. But she’d defeinitely be able to take an anonymous twig at a party, so she wasn’t worried about causing mayhem with anyone here. But she felt nowadays she’d need a reason, else Rowena would probably give her an earful. Or not. Altair didn’t know what to make of the girl anymore, how many changes she would go through before she’s Ro again. She wouldn’t want you to snap a bitch’s neck and end up in jail.’ Altair didn’t know which triplet she was thinking of.

”Can do,” Altair said, tilting the bottle to her lips and wondering why the buzz couldn’t make her feel completely wired like she wanted. You need your meds, that’s why. The voice was evil, one she tried to shove away from her conscious mind often. She held the bottle between her leg, dangling from her always-manicured fingernails, ring on her middle finger tapping against the brown glass. She wouldn’t be able to slip away even with booze, would she? ”Never drink when you’re upset,” she said like a fact from a textbook. From anyone else, they may have been advisory—from Altair they were a causual observation. ”How is the he-bitch?” Altair asked for conversational purposes. Hey, at least she was good at that.

About to take another sip, Altair paused, bottle centimeters from her lips. ”I didn’t think I’d have to tell you not to drink anything already open.” Realizing no one cared about a bitch telling them things they already knew, she shrugged as if to dismiss her words. It was strange she cared, but it was more because she didn’t want to be a nag. ”Do I have to take you to the hospital or some shit?” She didn’t know whether Andy needed her stomach pumped. She wasn’t about to have her pass out on her or anything, though. Even lying down somewhere with Altair keeping vigil for any drunk asshole who might want to take advantage of a sexy drunk chick would be a good idea. ”I’m not going to leave you alone,” Altair said with a sharp exhale that sounded like a laugh. ”Fuckers here are sick. Some blond asshole tried to shove his hand down my pants.” Altair rolled her eyes. Romance is dead, huh.

Tilting her head as if considering, Altair shrugged again. ”More pathetic than anything. Try to control your stomach acid.” She was looking at Andy warily as if the older girl were about to tip over and puke. She looked okay, but even the most put together ones can get sick in a second. ”Bathroom?” altair inquired, in case Andy really needed to upchuck her stomach contents.

[xmarci2]

Andy stretched her neck, answering easily, ”Always. When have you ever seen me otherwise?” It was a well known fact that Andy enjoyed herself the most when observing those who were in the shit. Or angry as shit. Basically the only bad thing that could happen to other people that she would laugh at was some sort of deep depression. That was never what she'd want for a person. Even her worst enemy. Well...maybe her worst enemy. Sighing a little, Andy pouted and let her head roll forward for a second, ”I'm bored. No one's being interesting tonight.” Well, other than herself and the almost-possible drugging. She knew something was up with herself, but for some reason or another she wasn't all that worried. Perhaps it was the drugs.

What Andy really wanted was for her ability with words to come back so she could infuriate someone and laugh in their face. Yes.... She had a real itch for that right about now. But if the wind girl attempted it right now, she knew she'd sound like a really drunk, idiotic chick who just wants attention, and that was not how she liked to come off. Better to preserve her reputation a bit and lay low. Pulling her head up, Andy nodded a bit. ”Noted.” Then she paused, glancing at Altair long enough to raise an eyebrow at her. ”Just as girly as ever. He's got a posse and everything these days—it's really pathetic. Moreso because you can tell most of his followers would lever him into a wall if he stopped paying them for their friendship.”

Well, that part she wasn't sure about. But it was really odd that he somehow managed to stay the top dog in his little pack. Aaron was big, but he was also bookish and hard to get along with. Not the usual popular boy material. Andy shrugged, ”Aaron's a bastard.”

The sound was barely audible above the noise of the party, but Andy did into click her tongue. ”Didn't. But I remember one or two times I had to put my drink down for one reason or another. Thought I'd kept a good eye on it, though.” She sighed, ”Ah well. Can't be helped now. No, I can walk, and until I can't I don't think the hospital is in order, thank you. Never liked making those kinds of scenes. People either start bitching about how you're making a big deal out of things or treat you like a doll—you know how it is.” Andy had to stop because another wave of dizziness overcame, her, but she just leaned into the counter a little more and moved her eyes to the ceiling. That was up.

When the vertigo passed, Andy nodded again, ”Thanks. I officially owe you a night of tips.” It would make gas money thin, but she could afford one night. She smirked a bit at the other girl, but didn't answer the other comment. Wasn't that basically the description of their job? Letting men look and fondle a little for tips and cat calls? But, like Andy, Altair must not like to bring that part of her life into her party business. Those were two different worlds, and needed to stay that way. Then she shook her head. ”Not gonna hurl.” She sounded more stubborn than sure, but Andy knew very well that if she really was going to hurl, she would relent. This was just some sicky feelings.

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[ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT]

Atair gave a dry smirk. ”You’re doing it especially well today,” Altair noted. Fingernails lightly tapping against the bottle. Gaze distant. She was still attentive, she just gave no sign of caring about…anything, really. And when it came to people she was very straightforward—you would know if she liked you or not, because if she didn’t, it would mean she would most likely attack you. Her indifference was a sign that you were on her good side. Of course Andy was aware of that, otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten along as they did. ”If no one else is being interesting,” Altair said coolly, looking into Andy’s eyes, ”You’ve got to make it interesting.” The Fire girl didn’t expect anyone to be entertainment for her, so she went out of her way to do something herself. Standing on tables and ordering a game of chicken, which Brett had experienced. Doing reckless shit, the dead-end lifestyle…it was all a game. But it’s not anymore. Now that she was gone from her life…no.

She listened to Andy, actually paying attention and appearing to do so. She did that sometimes. ”But wouldn’t they miss their big lesbian orgies?” Altair said, as lady-like as ever. It was probably why she got along with Andy so much—not like they were the prim and proper delicate socialites. Sure, Altair was an ex-model but most of her personality was masculine. She liked her bikes, violence, fucking, drinking, anything usually associated with the rougher sex. And she had to wonder why that was, whenever a guy turned down a fight simply because she was a woman. She remembered Bass, the guy who came across her at a very bad time on the cliffs, where she usually retreated to be alone. He’d attack her elementally, but he wouldn’t punch her? She could almost respect Dale for getting physical with her, but she hated him too much for actual respect like that. ”Noted,” she repeated Andy’s words when the Wind graduate spoke of her brother being an asshole.

Altair shook her head. People were just annoying, probably why she didn’t like associating with them. There were a select few like Andy that she got along with, but her temper wasn’t something that was easily kept under wraps. It was a beast sleeping inside her, waiting to rear its head over the littlest thing. ”I’d rather avoid hospitals anyway,” she said tersely. She was remembering when she’d been in for her surgery, and when she’d gotten her hands on something that help her in destroying herself. ”I’d probably just take you to a back-alley doctor anyway,” she said with a smirk—never a real smile, that never showed up on her face. It was true enough. She knew people those ‘proper young British ladies’ shouldn’t be associating with. She was trying to separate herself from that life now, but…it had been her life. She’d been living the way she had for a long time, and trying to clean herself up…it required effort. Effort she didn’t know she had. But she was more than willing to try for Rowena.

She watched as Andy supported herself against the counter, giving no discernable worry on her face. She was worried, but not in the empathetic way some people would. Altair just didn’t want to see the girl collapse on the ground. She waved her hand, bottle to her lips in the other. After swallowing, she said, ”No need.” The girl had her pride, a lot of it, and she wasn’t going to take Andy’s tips. She was selfish, but she wasn’t needy. Okay, money was a problem for the triplets—they were still triplets, nothing would ever change—but she wasn’t going to accept handouts. She wasn’t going to get welfare money or rely on the government support. Because she was the provider, the breadwinner, and she could handle everything on her own. Or at least, that’s what she thought everytime she worked that pole and imagined she was back on the runway. ”Awesome,” Altair said sarcastically, without a voice telling her that she should be less of a bitch to everyone. She guessed she buried that voice long ago.

[xmarci2]

”Well thank you.” She grinned at Altair. It was always good to hear she was managing what she set out to do. If that meant that she turned the fact that someone was calling her a malicious bitch into a compliment, then so be it. Andy knew she had it right where it counted. Mostly. Taking a deep breath, she mused, ”I just wished I'd decided not to drink tonight. Right now I don't rust my balance enough to get up to my usual shenanigans.” Which were, of course, something having to do with her wonderful abilities of dance. Andy could zone in on a single hot guy she wanted that night, and tantilize him until he fell into her trap. Or she would team up with Altair, and the two would be the popular party bitches every school is known for. Anything would be better than this.

The young woman shrugged, ”I try very, very hard not to understand what goes on in their bloated brains. It's less scarring that way.” For all she lightly brushed the subject off, she did have a grea capacity to brood over her brother and how much she wanted him to...well, not die. But anything leading to it. Wouldn't it just be poetic justice if he got maimed in a tragic accident? He certainly deserved something of the kind. As per usual, however, Andy shoved the thoughts aside in favor of those of the party, and of taking regular stock of herself to make sure she wasn't going to be sick.

When Altair mentioned the back-alley doctors, Andy stuck out her tongue. ”Bleh, no thanks. I wonder how many germs I'll get from one of those places. I think I'll just settle for a ride home.” She eyed the young woman next to her, briefly wondering whether she was doing better than she had been a few days ago. It had been awhile since their sister had died, but Andy was still a little concerned. She knew better than to say it to their faces, however. Better just to be a silent support. The fire girl refused her tips, and she shrugged a bit. ”Alright then, suit yourself. But I owe you a favor, alright? Can't just let something like this slide, not with my mates.”

Andy ignored the sarcastic word, not even the slightest bit phased by the lack of sympathy. Altair had definitely been through worse in her time, and owed the wind graduate nothing. At least, nothing more than what she was already doing, which had been enough for the girl to offer up a night of precious tips. After a few moments of silence, Andy turned her gaze on her companion once again and said. ”Alright, we're doing something. Where's the guy who tried to feel you up?”

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[ALTAIR SABINA BENNETT]

Altair continued to swirl the liquid in her bottle as she listened to Andy. ”What’s the point if you don’t drink?” It’s mostly the reason Altair went to parties. To find a fuck or a fight to hold her over, drink, do something reckless. Rinse and repeat every night. She avoided the drugs now, of course, but was the drinking and stupid behavior any better? How much did she have to change for her life to be better, for she and Rowena to be whole again. Because they sure as hell didn’t seem to be getting too better. Don’t rush it. But Altair had never been a patient person. ”Too bad,” Altair drawled when Andy said that she wouldn’t be able to get into any of her usal ‘shenanigans’. The Fire girl really couldn’t bring herself to decide what she wanted to do right now, so she was settling with talking to Andy.

Altair didn’t say anything to the girl’s next words because she didn’t have anything to add to it. She had her own pride, anyway, inflated as it was. She knew how attractive she was and used it to her advantage. Instead, she lifted her eyebrow at Andy’s next stateent. ”Probably more than a regular doctor,” Al tair said dryly. It was probably one of the places her dealer got Vicodin. Don’t think about the drugs. Mind over matter, she just had to keep it up. She was a strong person, she knew that. And she hated the fact that she once had an addiction that acted as a crutch. Altair Bennett didn’t need a crutch. She was Altair Bennett, dammit.

Taking a swig fro the bottle, Altair said. ”No clue.” But she jumped off the counter and guided Andy through the crowd, looking out for familiar faces…or hands. She found him sitting on a couch with another chick, and looked over at her friend. ”What do you plan?” she asked, her voice like a challenge. Really, it was always a challenge. She just needed entertainment to remove her brain from the drugs.