"She was beautiful. Beautiful, glorious, and absolutely furious. I love to see her angry. It made her so passionate; gave me a piece of her that I was never allowed to see. Not that I would of even...

Wow... so I've really been failing recently haven't I?
 
I am extremely sorry about being go so long.
 
It really killed me because I love this roleplay so much, but for some reason my professors decided to ban together to make the last two weeks HELL OF EARTH. Besides that my charger for my BRAND NEW computer is broken,(so pisssed), and I got in a car accident today... ugh!!!
 
I know, excuses excuses. I'm going to get this out because I've actually been attempting to publish this set for several days, but none of the other computers in my house run fast enough to do polyvore. Thank goodness that this one is working, and hopefully I'll be able to use it the rest of the week. Fingers crossed!!
 
So, to get to the point...
 
Because I was gone for so long I am going to do a set talking about where Grace has been, and then start into doing the normal events... if anyone wants to collab let me know!!!
 
Also, until I receive my new charger I won't be able to comment on other sets, because of the craptastic computers at my house. I should be getting my new charger in a couple of days, and will definitely make up for my absense as soon as possible!!!
 
I want to thank the mods for understanding!!!
 
Word of advice.... College - ya it's better than high school, but it still sucks.
 
And now, on with the show...
 
------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
The turbulance of the plane was really grating on my nerves, but at least I was in first class. We were flying through a large rain cloud - hence the bumpiness- and it couldn't fit my mood more.
 
I absolutely hated these trips, but I could not ignore my mother. I'm all she's got left, even though that is her own doing.
 
I hear girls complain all the time about how they're "sooooo freaking tired" of their parents.
 
Well, screw you.
 
At least you have them.
 
Four years ago my life was turned upside down, and now I have absolutely no one, except an insane mother and some grave stones.
 
That's all a different story for another f*cking time.
 
I don't have the strength to get through that at the moment.
 
So don't even come to me with your eye rolls and your "so annoying" rants. I don't give a f*ck.
 
Be thankful for what you have, you never know when it's going to be taken from you.
 
I hate Easton, but honestly I'm glad I'm coming home.
 
I can only handle that kind of responsiblility for so long, and it feels nice to finally be able to let off some steam.
 
...Maybe I'll call Sebastian when I get in. He can come get me from the airport, and then we can get wasted.
 
That is exactly what I need right now.
 
Reality is a b*tch my friends.

Thursday: Easton is hosting it’s spring art show, and it’s a very formal event. They want the ladies in gowns and boys in tuxes. The Ivies will be there to scope out for possible people to recruit to their school. Making a good impression will be hard so don’t think things will come to you easy. There will be dancing and champagne, and little finger foods. So get ready to be bored. Or excited.
 

I was surprisingly excited for the art show this evening. I needed to drink and mingle with some Ivy League recruiters.
 
I have wanted to go to Dartmouth for as long as I can remember. I need to hunt down that advisor and kiss some serious asss.
 
And yes. I wanted to go there way before that f*cking nasty vampire movie became popular.
 
The mind of my generation really astounds me sometimes.
 
Go read Shakespeare instead of watching shitt like that. Really.
 
I’m still contemplating what I’m going to wear tonight as I’m carrying some luggage over to my new dorm room. I found out that my roommate’s name is Caroline.
 
Haven’t heard much about her.
 
My luck she’ll be completely obsessed with Billings.
 
I walk in to see her laying clothes out on her bed, probably organizing.
 
She turns around and looks at me as I walk in.
 
“You Caroline?” I asked her. I knew it was her, but you know, just checking to see how she would react.
 
“Yes. I am.” She seemed sweet. Quite, but sweet.
 
“I’m your roommate. Grace.”
 
“Okay.” Hmm, woman of little words.
 
“Aaallright. You going to the art show tonight?” We need to make some kind of conversation here.
 
She shrugged looking down at the floor. “Um, I don’t know yet.”
 
“Okay. Well, your welcome to come with me if you want. Although if your trying to get into Billings, I’d stay away from me if I were you," I said smiling.
 
She looked up at me with a confused look on her face.
 
“The Billings girls and I don’t really get along,” I chuckled.
 
I scanned over her clothing. She had a very minimalistic style. Sweet and cute, reserved.
 
I liked it. Very refreshing.
 
“I like those shoes. Killer.”
 
She looked surprised, and then sort of smirked up at me hesitantly, “Thanks.”
 
“No problem.” We were really going to have to work on her vocal abilities if we were going to be staying together. She seemed like a sweet girl though, so we’ll see what happens.
 
“Ok, well I’m going to go get dressed. I’ll see you around?” I ask, trying to get an answer out of her. I grab my dress, heels, and makeup heading towards the bathroom.
 
“Yeah, sure.” She smiled tentatively at me.
 

This art show was a tad bit on the drab side.
 
Luckily, I used the famous Grace Gillen flirty eyes, and scored a glass of champaign from the cute waiter.
 
As I was standing there scanning the room, I felt someone come up behind me and chuckle.
 
“Something that has always been humorous to me, is the way that these girls and boys try to look like they are so interested in being here, when they would really just like to be out shopping or making out with the opposite sex.”
 
I turned around to see a very tall stately-looking woman wearing all black. It looked like Donna Karen. Very appropriate from her, and gave her a very motherly feel.
 
“Yeah, the dynamic of high school is something I’m definitely looking forward to leaving behind,” I chuckled. She had no idea.
 
“I’ve had enough drama in my life to write a book about, and I really just want to start over.” That was a dream more than anything; I know that I can’t escape my past, but I want to make a different future.
 
She turned towards me and smiled, “You looking into any school seriously?”
 
“Well I have always wanted to go to Dartmouth, it’s sort of my dream really. My dad went there, and so did my brother. It’s not really a legacy thing, but, I don’t know.”
 
I didn’t like talking about my family, really. Something about this woman is making me open myself up.
 
“Did your brother graduate from there? If he did I’m sure that-“
 
I cut her off. No sense in pretending. “He didn’t. He only went there for two years.”
 
I looked away from her face, if I saw the sympathy that was lurking there, I’m sure I would lose it.
 
After a pause, she spoke, “I see. Well I’m sure you’ll accomplish your goal. You should start applying soon, though. You are a senior?”
 
“No. I’m a junior. But yeah, I’m definitely going to apply soon.”
 
She quirked an eyebrow at me, “You should. And, be looking for a letter.”
 
My head shot up. Finding her eyes, I arched my eyebrow.
 
“Your name?”
 
“Grace Gillen.”
 
She’d know now. All she would have to do was go onto the Dartmouth website and look up my last name. And whatever school she was from would definitely put my name on the black list.
 
Stupid. I’m so stupid.
 
Some sort of recognition came up in her eyes, and then… she smirked.
 
“It’s nice to meet you Ms. Gillen. I’m Lucy Bradshaw. When you receive your letter, my name will be the one listed first at the bottom. Give me a call.”
 
She smiled at me, and then turned around and headed toward a large group of, what looked like, other college scouts.
 
That was very odd.
 
Humph. Well I’m over this.
 
No one had name tags on, and I couldn’t tell a king from a bastardd in this crowd.
 
I’ll just apply to Dartmouth like everyone else.
 
I walked toward the closest waiter to dispose of my drink.
 
As I walked by the big group that Lady Lucy disappeared into, a hand reached out and grabbed my arm.
 
I turned to shrug out of their grasp, and give the b*tch who thought it was ok to grab me a piece of my f*cking mind, until I saw who it was.
 
“Oh and Ms. Gillen. Get rid of that champaign please? You are not of drinking age yet. I hope that sobriety is not an issue I will have to deal with during your stay at Dartmouth.” And she smiled.
 
…
…
…
 
I can feel my mouth hanging open, and yet I can’t seem to care very much.
 
Did she just say Dartmouth? F*cking slap me.
 
“Y-ye-yes ma’am. I will, right away.”
 
I cannot believe I just stuttered.
 
“Thank you Ms. Gillen,” she chuckled and smiled.
 
I immediately got ride of the glass… but not before finishing it off.
 
I respected the woman and everything, but still.
 
Listening to authority is not my strong point.
 
As I walked away, I could here a small chuckle.
 
I looked back over my shoulder, and winked.

Tuesday: It’s a small, quiet and relaxing day. Make sure you have all your supplies. We just returned from a mid-semester break and the teachers are ready to give essays and homework come Monday. Enjoy the free time while it lasts.
 
I still hadn't moved into the dorm. Again ladies, always keep them guessing on the small things, keeps it fun and fresh.
 
I was feeling flowery, so floral shorts it was. Add some tights and booties and I'm off.
 
There's not much to do today... maybe I'll just snoop around campus. Get some kind of inspiration.
 
Walking into the Bradwell building, I can't help but feeling nosey. These Billing hopefuls were really a case study in themselves. Just watching them, their shifting eyes, and desperate looks, made me want to laugh. More than that though, it really made me want to cry. Especially the little innocent ones. I mean what did these girls even know about life?
 
Nothing.
 
They haven't gone through one damnn thing yet, and their trying to score a bed in Billings. They should be more concerned about college or something.
 
They had no idea the road it could lead them down.
 
...Oh well.
 
Let's check out the fresh meat.
 
I stop in the doorway of a little thing. Cute. Freshman or sophomore I'm going to say?
 
Pretty long brown hair hanging down straight, she's gazing at herself in the mirror wearing the basic pathetic uniform, holding a dress.
 
I leaned against the door frame heavily, waiting for her to notice me. Might as well introduce myself.
 
"Trying on the new uniform, Kansas?" She definitely looked like she was mid-western. To cute and innocent for big city life. Dear God, they're going to eat her up and spit her out.
 
"Actually, I'm from Ohio," goodness that's even better. I couldn't contain my laughter. I heaved off the door frame and sauntered into her room. "I'm Mariam."
 
"Mariam, huh?" Well she wasn't on scholarship, definitely had money by looks of the Chanel. "Were you named after your grandma or something?"
 
It's an honest question really. I mean there are some strange names around here, helll Grace is freaky for the twenty first century, but Mariam? Grandmother name.
 
"Um..." Poor thing, I made her flush. "I don't think so?"

"Interesting." Her parents probably didn't tell her. Definitely sheltered. Let's give her a nickname. "Sooo, can I call you Mari?"
 
I can't believe she's letting me pick up her things. If it was me.. b*tch please, I wouldn't let a skank I didn't know waltz in and group my shitt.
 
"Sure," Passive. I'm starting to worry here. The little doe is just too sweet. I'm beginning to feel protective.
 
She asks me my name. "Grace," I flick my cigarette. If it wasn't for the damnn fire alarms I would light it. I am not looking forward to moving back in here. "You can call me Grace."

"Okay." She smirked. The boys were going to like this one. Little kitten.
 
I've never had a little sister...
 
"Sorry if I barged in or anything." I'm apologizing now? Helll, this is ridiculous. She's charming me. "I'm just scoping out the underclassmen. Seeing if there's anyone worthy." That'll throw her off, I smirked.

"Oh my God, you're in Billings, aren't you? I cannot wait to see.... Oh, how--"

Dear Lord, I had to put a stop to that.
I practically slapped my hand over her mouth, silencing the ramblings. She needed to learn my one requirement for friendship fast, because I liked this one and I was not going to put up with Billings shitt.

"Don't talk about Billings around me, Mari," I smiled, trying not to scare her too much,"Or we can't be friends."

"Why not? Billings is so--"

Hand over mouth again. God. Little thing can talk fast. And no filter apparently, that could be fun.

"Fine," she finally relented. Hmph. Little bit of an attitude there.
 
Adorable.
 
...God, I have got to stop saying that. Grace Gillen isn't supposed to posses a heart. "But you have to tell me the story behind this."
 
Of course she wants to know, as does everyone else i assume. That stays under lock and key for a little while longer, because once it's out - It's out. Until then, I'll just have to be her Obi Wan Kenobi.

"That'll come... In time," time to exit. This one needs to be handled in small spurts I think. Don't want to burn myself out. Don't want to unload to much on her either; Satan hasn't unleashed her real power yet.
 
That will come soon enough.
 
I sped off with a little wave and a smirk.
 
I liked this one. Even though she obviously wants to be in Billings, she seemed innocent enough to not be completely consumed by it... yet.
 
Maybe I could save one of them from the fiery flames.
 
In the mean time, rumor has it that theres some kind of party going on tomorrow. Sounds promising. Maybe I'll stop by. I need to pick up an outfit though.
 
I guess I'm going shopping.
 
{credit to miss LuxeCouture for the plot, I just added Grace's rambling. ; ) }
 
p.s. - I think Grace needs some other girl interaction at the party for Wednesday, anyone want to bump into her?

Grace Gillen, 17
Hometown: Chicago, Illinois
Social Status: Doesn't give a flying f*ck about social status.
Grade: Junior
Bio: Grace is the sassy, blunt girl who doesn't care about popularity or the newest Choo's. She actually reveals to have a firm hostility toward all things associated with Billings House. Based on beauty, glamour, and intelligence though, she fit's the match of a Billing's girl. And because of that, Grace was asked to join. However, she is the only girl in the history of the Billing's house to decline an invitation. There has been some rumor that she's been playing around with the Ketlar guys, and all of them seem to be drooling over her. In all, Grace is that bad-a*s chick with a family history left unspoken, and a cigarette between her red lips.
Model: Frida Gustavsson
.
..
...
...What is this feeling takin' over?...
...
...Thinking no one can open the door...
...
...Surprise. It's time to feel what's real...
...
...What happened to Miss Independent?...
...
...No longer needs to be defensive...
 
The pretty girl still wearing last nights makeup rolls over and groans.
 
What. the Helll is. that.
 

 

...She rustles around in bed...
...
...And then falls out of bed...
 
..."Oh that little sh*t..."...
 
She finally retrieves her cellular device.
 
"Sebasti-" but she's cut off.
 
"Good morning to you too beautiful!! How's the hangover?" he asks cheekily through the receiver. He just can't get enough of her during hangovers.
 
Irritated, she climbs back in bed. "God. Would you stop chuckling? My head is pounding.
... And what the HELLL was that I was just so /rudely/ awakened with?"
..."It had better not be anything that is considered pop or so help me God"....
 
"That my dear Graceland was Kelly Clarkson. The song "Miss Independent", to be exact."
 
She flops back in the bed.
 
"You really are a little sh*t, you know that? First you change my ringtone, to Miss Something-or-Other, and secondly, I mean it's like... it's 10 am."
..
...
..
"You woke me up using Kelly Clarkson. At 10 am."
 
"It seems I did sweet cheeks."
 
Ugh, she loves and hates the teasing all at the same time.
 
"Are you hungry for me, nips?", she smiles.
 
"I'm always hungry for you, whorre," he replies to pisss her off.
It's just too easy sometimes, he smiles. "Meet me at Starbucks. 5 minutes."
 
"Are you Fing kinding me? 5 freaking minutes. Really?"
 
"Yes."
 
"You are the cockiest bast-"
 
The line goes dead.
 
"He did not just hang up one me! God, that boy is insufferable."
 
She scrubbes her hands over her eyes too hard, but it felt good on her headache.
 
"Why am I talking to myself?"
 
Oh, her head hurts.
 
Note to self - do not do Patron shots with Stallion.
She really had to stop doing that.
 
She shuffled out of bed and threw on some tights, shorts, and a hat, and hit the street.
 
Connecticut always smells odd to her. Too clean.
 
Now Chicago? That is where it is at my friend. There's just enough smog to keep one guessing. She misses it. But there's nothing left for her there...
 
...Except for her Mommy Dearest....
 
-------------------
 
And that b*tches, is why I chose boarding school.
 
Easton sure as helll isn't Chicago, but it will do for the time being. And as long as those little social whorres stay out of my way, we'll all get along just fine.
 
...Well, that's a lie, that little Nora biitch couldn't keep her claws in her own business if she tried. And she's pisssed, of course, because she wanted me for one of her little minions. Ha, that is just hilarious. Grace Gillen doesn't answer to anybody, especially the Bradford biitches. I should make Nora into one of my characters, and then kill her off. That would be satisfying, except she doesn't even deserve that. The other three are basically harmless; I'd be surprised if they have ever even spoke back to Satan. I'd love to see one of them over take her though... Hmm, that could be fun...
 
Where is my lighter? I'm dying.
 
"Sh*t!" I've got to stop tripping over my feet.
 
I catch my reflection in a store window.
 
"Oh helll. I look like a slutt."
 
"Well, don't you now? Some things never change do they Graceland?"
 
"Shut the f*ck up Sebastian."
 
"Very funny, my little friend."
 
If it's possible, he looks almost as bad as me, except the hot version. Which sucks.
 
"Did you really just do that in an accent."
 
"Yes Gillen. I really did."
 
"Stop talking. I'm seeing stars. Do you have my coffee?"
 
"Am I that good baby? You're still seeing stars?"
He hands me my carmel machiatto.
 
He's a sweetheart deep, down... deep, deep down. Somewhere.
 
"Very funny Tassel. Let's be serious for a moment."
I sip my coffee. "You and I. We would never work."
 
"Why would that be Graceland?", he mumbles, distractedly flipping through his phone. We this conversation every other day.
 
"Probably because you keep calling me that..." I pause just to piss him off; take a leisurely sip of my coffee. I HATE it when he calls me Graceland; My father wasn't Elvis, damnn it.
 
He's throwing daggers at me. "And because you steal drags without asking."
 
I gave him a pointed stare as he took the third drag from MY cigarette.
 
"I'll buy you some more."
 
"No you won't, Liar."
 
"Ok I won't. But, I bought your coffee."
 
"And thank God for that. I would of kicked you in the nads if you hadn't had it."
 
"Why do you think I take such good care of you baby?" He slings his arm over my shoulder.
 
"Probably because I'm the best wing man to walk the earth, and I can keep up with your drunkeness." I pinch his asss, just for good measure.
 
He flinches away from me,"That's not even a word."
 
"Yes it is. I'm on the paper. I would know."
 
"Well I think you've been kicked in the head one too many times from that God-awful game you play."
 
"Hey watch it slutt. Soccer is like, my life, besides writing, and you, of course."
 
"Of course." He sips his coffee and rolls his eyes.
 
I wonder what slutt is still in his bed.
 
"So who are you avoiding right now? Who was the lastest victim? Shanelle or Janelle?"
 
He winces.
 
"It was creepy that they had, like practically the same names, wasn't it? The blonde one was hot, though."
 
"Yeah, I don't know. The brunette had nice legs. Less STD looking. I would of gone with her."
 
He stops. I almost fall.
 
"Sebastian!"
 
He spins me around and throws me over his shoulder.
 
"This is why I love you Red, we can talk about girls, and you don't go psycho-chick on me. Your just honest. I like it."
 
"Well considering you helped me score that dance with Landon, I think I owe you. Now, put me down. I'm showing my asss."
 
He hmms thoughtfully. Then winks as he pulls me to his side, "He was all over you."
 
"Mmm yeah, I did look hot," fluffing my hair. "But he's still pining away for Arabella. I'm not innocent enough for him."
 
Sebastian and I laugh..
 
"He'll come begging for me soon enough."
 
"So humble."
 
"Coming from the humblest."
 
We make our way to the nearest bench in the shade. I really love Sebastian. He's rough and a man whorre, and an alcoholic, but he's real. Which is the only way I take my friendships. Shaken, not stirred.
 
And, he's arm candy. You really can't go wrong.
 
"I don't want to go back to school tomorrow." I groaned, leaning my head on his shoulder. This just didn't feel like it was going to be my week.
 
"Who does Graceland. Who does."
 
We sit there just enjoying the nice summer day. We look like a couple of hobo-tramps with Starbucks. -But it's perfect....
 
"Don't you have soccer in like, six minutes?"
 
"SH*T!!!!"
"Coach is going to kill me", not to mention that little b*tch Noooooooraaaaa.
 
"And off she goes folks! Look at that asss shake! Pop, lock, and drop it, Red!!"
 
"Shut it Stallion!", I yelled back. He just thinks he's so damnn cute sometimes.
 
"Kick Noora in the shin for me, ok? Tell her I send love... And stop pretending that your not laughing."
 
I flip him the bird.
 
"I'll kick her shins alright." I mumbled. This day would get a whole lot better if I did.
 
Top 3 Choices:
#1. Grace Gillen.
#2. Poppy Lipton
#3. Ryan Moore
 
Of course, I want Graceland the best... hehe.
 
Don't really know why I changed points of view... Thought it would be interesting since I think of Grace as a writer.
 
Loved doing this!!! I started off to write a typical try-out piece, but Grace decided she was to tired from partying for that.
 
<3 Solitary Heart

Rachel's rules <3 01
 
...
Dang it!!! I didn't get it in the contest in time...
I am seriously upset right now.
Oh well! haha... next time then!!

I've always liked to push limits in the way I dress. I live in a very small midwestern town, and sometimes when I go out in an outfit, I get lots of stares...
 
But, I know somewhere in the world, someone gets it. & someone gets me. I love the way I dress. & that makes me not care as much.

Sooo I've actually had a tumblr for a while, I just haven't really used it. I am extremely new to the whole tumblr game && am needing some help!!! Any kind of advice or how-to help would be fabulous right now!!! haha... I'm not even sure where to begin...
Thanks ladies!!!! <3 {Solitary Heart}

◈ chloe hammond (sloth)
sixteen years old
junior in high school
new york, new york
the only one related to another member of the seven, chloe's mother was the pride of her little club. and unfortunately for her, chloe could not be anymore different. unlike her mom, who always knew what she wanted and wouldn't stop at anything, chloe has been having problems all of her life. it's not that she was lazy, like the traditional definition of sloth. instead, chloe has been dealing with depression and anxiety problems since she was a little girl. her father's been out of her life for years, so there was really no one to turn to. there's the hope that now that she's one of the seven, she'll finally have friends to help pull her out of the hole. but who knows what's going on behind those eyes? maybe she's farther gone than anyone could have ever imagined, and it might take more than just the offer of friendship to bring her back from the brink.
style: Easy, effortless eclectic chic
model: Mathilde Frachon
 
- - - please, could you tell us a little about your life up to this point?
 
It's funny, you wouldn't think that recalling some supposedly significant parts of your childhood would be difficult, but it is. Especially when I can't think of any. I'm sure everyone else is going to give you some great exciting recount of what made them. I've always just sort of existed. I don't know if that can even be called a tragedy, since there has never been anything that happened to me that was tragic. It's sort of depressing to think about, actually; I mean your either living in a fairytale or a tragedy. I'm going to have to make mine a tragedy I suppose, since there is no way that it could ever be a fairytale. Ha. That's funny.
 
Kind of depressing? I'm queen despair baby, with Mary Jane and Vodka as her subjects. With Pride as your mother, you learn how to do coke pretty darn fast ladies. It's not that she was a horrible mother, because I love her, really I do. The pressure just gets to you sometimes. Always wear the right thing, be seen with the right people; any protests are meet with "Your a Hammond dear, suck it up and suck it in." It's hard to be perfect when your anything but. I certainly can't speak to my mother about how I feel; a Hammond just wouldn't have a problem like depression. Yes, I said it - Depression; everyone always just seems so shocked when they here me say that. What, do people not think I know what's going on in my own body? I'm depressed, not stupid, b*tch. I hear that it's hereditary; of course I don't know first hand. My father left us when I was very young, six I would say. Mom tells me that he had serious clinical depression and addiction issues. I take after him in everything else, so its inevitable I would inherit his least favorable traits. Thanks pops, I'll take the green eyes, but you can keep your mental health.
 
All of my memories of him are very blurry, but all are good. One of my fondest ones is when he took me to the park. We swung on the swings, and slide down the slide; he even let me get my tights dirty. But, one day he just, vanished. Up and left us, giving me no reason at all. I don't blame him for leaving, my mother could drive anyone to anything, but I was his baby girl. He could of at least kissed me goodbye. Ever since then, I've had some issues, you could say, with anxiety. It started off as just separation anxiety, but quickly morphed. Any situation that involves any kind of stress or pressure, and you know I'm having a panic attack.
 
Most people don't realize that I'm having one when I am. I'm very good at hiding it. Sure, I have the attacks where the world is choking me to death, and there is nothing I can do to control it, but typically they don't manifest in that way. But, yeah, so daddy up and left, which is probably why I'm pissed at the world, and still love my mom, even though she can never understand me and never will. She stayed, and that counts for something right? She knows I have problems, and tries to help, but she just doesn't get it. Its the thought that counts right? Apparently she thought I was worth it somehow. So I went through school, staying as under the radar as possible, until The Seven. I'm not going to lie, I had a bit of a panic attack when I saw the letter, because I mean how much more pressure can a girl take? But mother was pleased, of course. Sloth isn't the thing she would of chose, understandably, but she's "willing to work with it." Me? I'm just hoping to make the pain stop.
 
- - - how do you feel about being a member of the seven?
 
My mom was /so/ excited to see my letter in the mail; me, not so much. I mean I'm excited about being apart of something they can't kick me out of, and I'm excited to make new friends. People that understand the difficulties of this life. Unfortunately, compassion is not a deadly sin, but hopefully I can find some here. Other than that though, I'm dreading it. All this pressure and drama (it's seven girls in an elite group - theres going to be drama folks), just makes me feel like I'm going to crack under the load. I just don't know how much more I can handle; I'm already juggling my mother's expectations, the world's expectations, and now The Seven, almost makes a girl want to check out.
 
- - - what are some words you would use to describe your personality?
 
Strong, but fragile. Quiet, but not meek. Again, I have a fragile mental states, that does not mean your going to walk all over me. I'm a thriller seeker; that probably doesn't seem like something that would go hand-in-hand with my personality, but the more adrenaline pumping through me, the less it hurts. Just like the louder the music and better the drugs, the less the burn of rejection and disappointment. I an not stuck up, something you would think I would be because of my mother. If your a real person and willing to listen, we'll get along just fine.
 
- - - are there any things you're particularly good at? maybe not so good at?
 
Umm... I'm good at english. Anything that involves using a writing utensil really. Dad was an artist so I think that's where I get it, like everything else. Writing, sketching, painting; you name it. It's pretty hilarious, a suicidal artist? How cliche. I'm very closed off about that kind of stuff though, so I'd have to really trust you in order to show you some. I play the violin, mother's doing, but I rather enjoy it sometimes. There's something about losing myself in the music; I like to hook it up to an amp, but don't tell mommy dearest. I'm fairly good at gymnastics as well; I'm always doing handstands and back handsprings. I know, not very lady like, but I love to see how long I can stand on my hands before I pass out from being upside down, and all the blood rushing to me head. It's quit a pastime. Things I'm not good at? Science. I suck at science. Curfews. Don't really do them very well either; I have absolutely no time management skills either, so being on time to anything is really out the door. And driving is something I suck at as well. You wouldn't believe the amount of speeding tickets I've gotten. The State of New York police and I have quit a relationship - first name bases really. So what if I like to race? What's so wrong about that? It's thrilling.
 
- - - what kind of things do you enjoy? what sort of things can you not stand at all?
 
I enjoy late nights, hot coffee, oversized sweaters, black sequins, cigarettes, dark eye make-up, long talks, loud music, live bands, summer mornings, and silence. I enjoy anything that involves endangering my life *chuckles*, anything thrilling to the point of terrifying; cause where's the fun in safe? That's right, there's none. I don't like matchy-matchy clothing; to much effort. Gossiping, judgmental people, being the center of attention, large groups - although I like going to concerts; I think its the adrenaline rush. I don't like green foods and white bread. And I don't like happy endings.
 
(answer the next ones out of character)
 
- - - why do you want to be a part of the seven?
 
I want to be a part of the seven because of the amazing characters, and the relationships I will make by being in a small role play. The whole idea behind it is absolutely amazing, and I would love to be a part of it! It will give me an outlet for my writing fix, and give me an excuse to be on polyvore more. : )
 
- - - why do you think you should play this character?
 
I think I should play Chloe because I actually struggle with anxiety issue, the worst being panic attacks. I know what it feels like to be gasping to breath, and not thinking you can take it much longer. I didn't think I would connect with Chloe at first, but after sitting down and really concentrating on her character, I completely get her. She's not a meek little mouse, she has attitude and isn't going to let the other six walk all over her, but she deal with some serious emotional issues. With her mom not caring about where she's going and what she's doing, Chloe has developed a thrill seeking personality; that, could, end badly for her.
 
- - - please designate your top three model choices
 
#1. Mathilde Frachon ( those droopy eyes - gorgeous)
#2. Carla Crombie
#3. Claire Birkholz