you know you love me,, ( TRISTAN SILVER )

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the sweetheart gone bad.

Valkyrie Academy

About The Roleplayer:
Name: Asia. AKA the face stealer.
Age: nearly seventeen.
Gender: Female.
Years Roleplaying: ten minus one.
Some Basic Interests: being a bitch.
Shocking people.
Being clumsy.


About The Character

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Name: Tristan Heidi Silver.
Alias: Tristan, Silver.
Age: seventeen.
Gender: female.
School Year: eleven ( junior. )
Art Interest: her parents’ wallet.
Job: Scandal Star. unless people kill me.
Originated From: that depends.
Sydney, Australia or Valkyrie, California.
Parents: Darren Silver. Fifty-three. father.
Sarah Silver. Forty-four. mother.
Relatives: Landon Silver. Nineteen. brother.
Elijah Silver. Twenty-two. cousin.
Portrayed By: Miranda Kerr.
TESS SAID I COULD !
Picture:

Appearance: For as long as anyone could possibly remember, the media has been the largest influence on mortals today. The current celebrities are the people who set what the “right” sort of appearance should be. In the 1950s, it was Marilyn Monroe with her platinum blonde hair, red lipstick and hourglass shape. During the 1990s, it was the teen stars who rebelled against everything mainstream, and rocked out with their grungy fashions, messy hair and strange make-up. However, as the world began to age, and it soon entered the 2000s, a new phenomenon came into place: body image. For the first time in years, starlets began the crazy diets, and made it a must-have to become thin. As the years passed, this obsession transitioned into the real world, and – eventually – people everywhere were obsessed with being tall, thin, having long hair and dressing like a star. But for someone like Tristan Silver? Maybe, at one time, she actually cared about all of this shit. At the moment, she didn’t. The physical matters, sure. But there’s not point in looking “cute” or socially acceptable. Go big or go home, bitch.

She was never the person so stunning, that people actually stopped on the street to get a better look at her. However, she had never been cursed enough to be ignored, or stared at, just because she was so painful to look at. This girl never had the unique, high-fashion sort of face like Kate Moss. Nor did she have the classic beauty of Scarlet Johansson. She didn’t even have that look of Paris Hilton that left people wanting more. There were those people all around Valkyrie. She was sad to say that she wasn’t one of them. At the beginning, hah. Ask her now? No problem is saying she’s the hottest one in the room. But we’re all modest somewhere inside.

It had become so common for females these days to define themselves by their hair, it’s astounding. But, really, what kind of girl hates to be commented on her mane? Usually, when you’re describing someone, it’s their hair. You say that she is blonde, or that he has brown hair. You can use your hair to, often, send out the sort of image you’d like to portray. For instance, if you are craving the 1950s sexpot sort of look, you would probably bleach your hair platinum, cut it into a chic bob and attack it with curlers. Maybe you’re after the posh and urban sort of hairstyle, which means a dark color in a long, straight style. Once, actually, internationally famous supermodel Gisele was overheard saying, “Never again [will I cut my hair]. Look at me. I’m famous for my hair and my boobs.” Even so, what kind of girl doesn’t spend time on her hair in the morning? Whether that means straightening it to wits end, spiking it up into a Mohawk or simply adding product, it would be something different for a female to walk out of her house without having done a thing to her hair. In all of the family photographs, Tristan Silver always had a long, flowing mane of thick, gleaming hair. It was like her trademark or something, the long mane of brown hair. Her mother used to coo over it when she asked her if she would help her straighten it before school. As of now, no such words are exchanged between the Silver women. Still, Tristan keeps up with her gleaming mane. Bohemian waves or simply straight, it didn’t matter. People loved it just the same. And we all know no self-respecting girl with no self-respect would be caught with ugly hair.

It is natural for all parents to tell their children how physically attractive they are. Even if that child turns out to be uglier than a puddle of mud. For all of her life, everyone – even strangers – had doted upon her physical beauty. It would be cruel to say that she was strange looking. But she had never achieved that doe-like face that Kate Moss had. It was always, “oh, beautiful Tristan!!” or a wide grin as a greeting ( she loved how she has all adults fooled ), and a soft “lovely Miss Silver.” But, all teenagers are insecure about their looks, right? For most of her teenage life, Tristan had been like any other insecure fuck. She worried what others thought of her, and constantly relied on her parents to tell her she was beautiful. But all cute things need to come to an end, don’t they? Her parents’ opinions are the last thing she cares about now, thanks. But she knows she’s pretty. She knows she’s beautiful. And she knows she can be sexy. It worked for her image.

Since she was young, people had always assumed that she was older than she really was. Although, no one could ever tell her why. There was nothing about her face that made her look more mature. Hadn’t been born into a family of people with defined jaw lines, or prominent foreheads. Both of her parents, in fact, had a youthful glow to them. On her father, Darren, it simply reflected his forever young – and wild – attitude and nearly wrinkle-free face. On her mother, such a look simply gave away her obsession with youth, beauty and large amounts of both. Money included. Like a blonde Playboy Bunny getting into some old man’s pants for his cash. However, much of her family had the high, sharp cheekbones often associated with age. On Tristan, they were fairly defined, and very sharp, giving her an appearance of natural authority. You could say she was the spitting image of silly Sarah Silver, with her soft facial features, sharp cheekbones and sly eyes. The only features she seemed to have inherited from her father were his pouty lips and tall stature.

People had always told her she was beautiful.
People had always said she was “unique” looking.

As confused as this confused mate was, she could never help but gaze at her eyes when she looked in the mirror. Like many others, she was fond this part of her body. Her mother had been born with large – almost round – eyes that were the darkest mixtures of browns and blacks anyone had seen in a long time. Her father, on the other hand, had inherited his eyes directly from his own father. The narrow, almost almond shape that had been sent down to his youngest child. They too, were filled with the light, almost dizzying mounts of blue coloring. But, as age continued to bind him down, they grew careless. Empty and stony. Like the bastard he was. And then once more a few years later. Yet, Tristan had inherited her father’s common eyes. She did, however, seem to miss the caring that reflected upon them that her mother got whenever she looked at Landon. What a bitch.

Whether it be the Californian sun, the tanning salons on every corner, or that new phenomenon of spray-on tan, it is difficult to find a person attending Valkyrie Academy who was not tanned. Sure, a small minority of people were of ethnic backgrounds, giving them a various skin tones. But Tristan was never part of that majority, nor the small minorities. There were a handful of people with skin so pale, it was practically transparent. There were even a few students with the skin tone of streaked sand: tanned, but with large clumps of white. For most of her life, Tristan’s skin had been flawless. As a child, it had gone through that terrible phase of constant dryness and rashes. As time passed, and she grew into puberty, she seemed to surpass that awful stage of greasy skin blotched with red, and covered with pimples. To this day, in fact, her flesh looks airbrushed, like in one of her photographs. Genetics or just luck? Both, thanks.

Even at fifty-three, Darren Slade was a tall man – six feet on the dot, in fact. He was, however, built with the body a select few would want. With broad shoulders, a deep chest and thick waist, it was no wonder – ignore that fact that he took care of himself. Her mother, on the other hand, was a socialite; of course she had an enviable physique. Like her daughter, she was a tall woman. Standing at a respectable five feet, eight inches, her body was nothing like her height. She had the sort of body many amateur runway models aspire – and often die – to have. With long, thin limbs, a concave stomach and no chest for miles around. No wonder her father was attracted to a woman nine years his junior, from the age of twelve and on, her body never changed. Fucking pedophiles. As for Tristan, it was obvious at a very young age she was built nothing like her mother. Aside from inheriting Sarah’s height, she was what her mother commonly referred to her as “unhealthy and voluptuous in that fat sort of way.” The shallow bitch. Men often appreciated her long, slightly curved frame, thanks. She wasn’t voluptuous in any known universe. At a towering height of five feet, nine inches, everything went well on her frame. No eyes on her feet or ears coming out of her nose. To her, her body was perfect. The happy middle between Gisele’s buxom body and that skeletal string-bean nonsense.

At Valkyrie Academy, the majority of the student body dressed fairly well. In slim cut pants, short skirts and trendy items. A handful of people dressed in skinny pants, black shirts and colored hair. Others wore nothing but sweat pants and sweaters. Some girls only dressed in argyle, pearls and flat shoes. A minority of people draped themselves in black, wore only turtlenecks with fedoras and trench coats. A select few only wear business-esque attire out in public: suits, button down shirts and dress pants. During her freshman to junior years of high school, Tristan had been just like everyone else. Happy, wide-eyed and delusional. She followed Seventeen magazine like it was some sort of glossy bible. But all cute things need to come to an end, remember? As she slowly morphed into the person she didn’t want to be, so did her style. It was still trendy and designer, mind you. But with an added edge. A shot of effortless bohemian. Cigarette jeans with the hippie blouse, scarf and leather jacket. It’s just the way the world works. Of course, the shorter skirts can be lifted on demand. And her blousy tops can be undone with effortless ease.

See? She’s efficient.

Personality:

`` THE BITCH FACTOR

For the first fourteen of fifteen odd years of Tristan Silver’s life, she had been a sweet girl. Always one to babysit the neighbourhood’s kids. Help the little old ladies cross the street. Do her chores without much – if any – complaint. You know the type. She was a parent’s wet-fucking-dream. That’s what she was. Before it happened, she was a good little girl. Sit, Tristan. Roll over, Tristan. Fetch this ball, Tristan. But she never got a pat on the head. All in one night, good girl Silver had turned into wild, bitchy slut Silver. Just like that. Now, there comes a time in every girl’s life where she has to screw the rules and fuck the high road, right? Instead of ignoring everything, she’d get down and play dirty, too. Play for keeps, if you will. Now, there are so many bitchy girls in every school, it’s insane. But, the problem with them is that they’re not bitches. Not really. They say rude comments and have no problem insulting people, but that just makes you a mean jackass. They’re pretty and popular and so not real. In her own eyes, Tristan Silver had transformed into an actual bitch. How do you describe it? You don’t. You just watch it. She’s never nice, but she’s never mean either. She’s never outgoing, but never shy. Everything she does has a certain nasty element to it. Even when she smiles at you, it is like invisible venom is slowly pouring from between her teeth. There’s no hesitation in ruining a relationship. No problem with ending a friendship. Not even a second glance at a victim. Maybe the cool demeanour is the reason. Maybe it’s because she won’t let down. Nasty nasty nasty.

That’s what it is.

`` THE TWO FACES

When today’s youth is rebellious, no one ever really knows about it. High school might not be quite like university, but it was definitely similar. Only the drinking was illegal, the sex was heavier and the parties were wilder. Especially around the wealthy. Seeing as the offspring of today’s rich and famous have no reason to get a part-time job, what else is there left to do? Party, shop and go to Starbucks. If you have a million dollar smile, you can win anyone over. And, trust me, Tristan Silver had been using her pearly whites for a very long time. Flash that smile to some unexpecting parental, and they’re putty in your hand. When she didn’t finish her homework, she’d smile sweetly at her professor – end up getting an extension. When she stumbled home with a bad hangover, she used her ‘I was pressured into it!’ smile on her father, and she’d be off the hook. As a result of that, it was easy for a girl like Tristan to get a good reputation around the parents and other adults she knew. They trusted her, they relied on her, and, best of all, they respected her. Made it much easier to be a bitch behind their backs. Because, you see, Tristan Silver had always been a bit of a two-faced girl. Even during her boring, cute stage, it was like that. She’d be all innocent and nice around the teachers and/or parents, and turn into a partier the minute they left the room. With everything negative in overdrive ( and had been for several years now ) it was just working all that much more. She’d smile sweetly at a classmate’s parents or dorm advisor, only to sweep said person into forbidden sexual positions thirty seconds later. The boys loved it, and I can bet that the girls hate it. But they hated her anyways.

`` THE PRETTY SLUT

She was a beautiful girl, she knew that. She also knew she could be captivating. How, no one really knew, but Tristan had grown up with people always stealing a second glance at her. Now, she had never been the most beautiful girl in the school – not even close. But those stolen stares told her something. What it was, I have no idea. I don’t really care either, but it gave her a confidence. A self-confidence that allowed her to strut through the hallways like a somebody; she knew where she was going in life and had no problem destroying others to get there. Hell, that hasn’t really changed, apart from the future crap. After it happened, everything about the brunette Australian changed. She was cold and harsh, bitter and lonely. No one would talk to her. No one would look at her. What would an insecure fifteen year-old to do in that situation? Hit it up with the only people that will speak to her – the stoner rejects. They offered a dirtier party, so it was a good break. They offered unlimited companionship, she was all in. They didn’t care what you did, only that you were there. So maybe that’s how it started. Seeing as no one ever called her beautiful and charming anymore, Tristan looked to other forms of compliments – dark, sexual comments made during sex. Now, she had never been an overly sexual being before that first party with smoke, vodka and a bong or ten. Three years of experience has transformed the girl into a confident one once again. But careless to the point where she doesn’t even care. That bitter loneliness never really went away. And companionship is something she constantly needs. Even after just a few years of being a minor slut, that’s gotten around.

Must be a record, isn’t it? Cheapest and easiest date in the school, boys.

`` THE SMART LIES

Can intelligence be a gene? Because, most of the time, if you have smart parents, you’re going to be smart. It’s just how it is. Now, half of the Silver parental units is intelligence. The other could lose a math competition with a rusty metal pole. Sarah Silver is dumb as a post, thanks. Whether it is or not, it was clear that Tristan Silver was going to be a smart girl from a young age. She never had any trouble completing the ridiculous math problems and English assignments in elementary or middle school. On the contrary, she brought home straight As most of the time. Now, education was the last thing on the party girl’s mind, seriously. Even as a student at a prestigious academy, she had no love for the lecture halls and dusty textbooks. Such circumstances can make one think you’re not too bright. I know more than a few people are thinking the same thing about Miss Silver over there. Can’t really blame them. But, you see, Tristan Silver is someone who likes to lead unsuspecting folk on. She likes to pretend to be one thing, only to prove to be something completely opposite two hours later. Look at what she does with parents, and then her classmates. Exactly. As a girl with intelligence pointing towards common sense and ‘street smarts’, lying often came into the picture. Or, as she preferred to call it, fabricating the truth. After nineteen years, she became aware of the things around her, and quickly picked up on how they worked. Then she can easily not tell the truth when she’s caught doing something naughty. Skilled lies and clever thoughts. It’s a deadly combination.

`` THE LOYAL SKIN

You might think everything about Tristan Heidi Silver is bad. Well, you’d probably be the closest in being right. There isn’t a whole lot of positive about this girl. She’s a whore and a cheater. She lies and rebels. She has no remorse for others, and no real consideration for the rules. Hell, she’s what she likes to call a real bitch. None of this high school, vindictive crap. It’s not real. They excuse the odd nasty comment, but nothing appropriate really comes out of her mouth. But, if there is one thing three odd years of bad reputation has taught her, it’s to be loyal to those who care about you. Now, after it happened, no self-respecting person would look the American girl straight in the eye. For the year and a half left of high school she had, Silver was painfully alone. And not in the way a one-night stand could fix. Even now, the girl only has a handful of people close to her. The ones who can overlook all of the shit she gets herself into. As a result, she long learned to trust them with almost anything. They were loyal to her, obviously. So, she had to be loyal back. Her bitter teenage experiences taught her to grow a tough skin, and to be loyal – two of the most important things a person with a bad reputation could have. Someone picks on you, she’s there. Someone humiliates you, she’ll humiliate them back. Get dumped by your worthless boyfriend, she’s there – quickly doing up her shirt, at least – with sad movies, chocolate and emo rock. There are good points to finding a friend in this Silver girl. Now if someone would actually do that. A few months of being the town slut, without any real friends, gets humiliating after awhile.

Likes: dark and sweaty sex,, bright lights,, darkness,, old films,, sex of any kind,, heroine,, storms,, life threatening situations,, sports cars,, being thin,, beauty,, being clever,, not you,, america,, being mean,, having her way,, legendary parties,, danger,, illegal actions,, kinky sex,, hard liquor,, being an outsider,, dark make-up,, short skirts,, her brother,, being the dangerous one,, forbidden lovers,, cheating,, dark and sweaty sex,, being sexy,, getting dirty,, cigarettes,, cutting class,, breaking glass,,

Dislikes:
good girls,, being denied sex,, sunlight,, clean cut people,, getting caught,, boring cars,, her parents,, her reputation,, being called a slut,, popularity,, slumber parties,, acting like she's twelve,, smiling for adults,, fresh faces,, sweethearts,, rumours,, those girls who think they're bitches,, stupid morons,, useless children,, pop music,, hot weather,, heavy sweaters,, flat shoes,, young parents,, her own parents,, the truth,, getting torn down,,

Flaws:

• will sleep with anything that moves.
  
• is a known slut.
  
• far too loyal.
  
• has no real concern for others.
  
• used to be a sweetheart.
  
• flashes of that “old life”.

Secrets:

• is, in fact, Scandal Star.
  
• has had more than one fling with her brother.
  
• sometimes wants to go back to the way things were.
  

Living Situation: the Valks.
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For The Valkyrie Academy Admin:

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Read the Rules?: we have rules?
Name One You Liked: five Anne’s is way too many.
What Makes Your Character Different From The Rest?: she’s Scandal Star. and people will eat me for her face. (: tess said so. T_T
Roleplaying Sample: never roleplayed here before. <33
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History:
( BEFORE IT ALL )
Let’s all face it, shall we?
We live in a world of media-obsessed, shallow fucked-up bitches. No matter how much we could deny it, if you look down deep, we all realize what we truly are. I don’t giving a flying bat if you’re the sweetest, kind-hearted person on Earth, you’re still shallow, nosy and bitchy. The first step in fixing a problem is admitting that you have a problem. How many people have really done that? People either ignore the problem, and continue on their shallow, fucked-up ways, or they deny anything to do with such a lifestyle and continue to try to do “the right thing”. In recent years, this problem has only increased. People are increasingly ignoring their own lives, picking up trashy magazines and rotting their brains with celebrity gossip, impossible body images and the latest on Britney’s turmoil life and custody battle for her children. Do we really need all of this? In Kiran Ivy Slade’s opinion, why the hell not? It was a celebrity’s choice when they signed up for Hollywood’s fast, fucking psychotic lane. So, it was only fair that mere mortals got to see what the lives of the rich and fabulous were all about. It wasn’t like Tristan Silver was really a tabloid whore – she had never seen a paparazzi photographer in her life. And it wasn’t like she wanted to be a part of the shallow, wealthy world her parents had so easily conquered. She didn’t want any of it. Trust funds, designer clothes, limos…it was all fucking boring. But what choice did she have? If Darren and Sarah Silver hadn’t fallen in love, she wouldn’t be living that stupid life. Maybe that’s where everything went wrong.

Darren and Sarah Silver were originally from different worlds. He had grown up in posh Manhattan, surrounded by cocktail parties and pretty girls in short dresses. He never had to worry about his trust fund, and the shiny sports car he got for every birthday wasn’t a second thought. His parents were some of New York’s elite. Highly successful realtors had broken the ten million mark years before he was born. Needless to say, he was raised the exact same way he raised his own children. Everything was the best, and there was no reason to settle for anything less than that.

Sarah, on the other hand, had lived in New York State for her entire life. Born to a lower middle-class family living on the edge of the Bronx, it was fairly obvious she was going down the same road as her parents – honest, hard working people caught up in dead-end jobs. There was no trust fund and definitely no sports car for her sixteenth birthday. The only parties she attended were wild house parties thrown by classmates who had parents out of town; none of the girls were pretty either, they were tramps dressed up in cheap mesh miniskirts. While the former hard working female loved her family more than anything, the small glances she got of the city were enough to make her forget all of that.

By the time she turned eighteen, everything had began to change. How, I can’t really tell you. And she doesn’t really feel the need to let you know who she had to screw to even get an interview at the prestigious university in downtown New York. She just did. At the same time, Darren Silver, a bustling law student of twenty seven, had no problem getting accepted into the expensive school. You see, his parents had taught him to live a little, and then get on with his life. As a result, the rich bastard had spent half of his twenties touring around the world on their credit card – didn’t make mommy and daddy too happy. Off to school with you, young man! Whatever the reason, both naughty little children were carted off to the university. Happily ever after, thanks. What the blonde skank was doing in an English Literature lecture hall, I’ll never really know – chick is dumber than a post, for god sakes. But, she had been right; she was different from all of those other poor, helpless little girls. She caught the eye of a rich, powerful man. Now, I know it’s never supposed to happen like that. The rich marry the rich, and the poor marry the poor. Then they all have rebellious little babies who want into another life.

Blah blah blah.
You really think anyone cares about how they met?

Well, they did. Happy ending. Go away.

By the time Darren graduated law school with flying colors, and already had a cushy job, he was in a serious relationship with the much younger woman. His parents hated it, hers were oh so proud. He loved her, she loved him. What’s the big deal? The big deal is the little thing conceived on the night of their wedding, that’s what.

( BEAUTY IN A CHILD'S EYES )
Most couples wait, at least, a few years before having children, don’t they? Some don’t even consider the thought. Others are in serious relationships and a few too many beers lands a child growing inside of Susan – they get married. A couple of teenagers get knocked up and decide to tie the knot as well; might as well kill two birds with one useless stone. You see, people either want to have children and do it right, or they royally fuck up and end up with a pregnant misses. Normal people do. But, as we all know by now, that the beautiful and wealthy have nothing to do with them normal folk. They party from the age of fifteen until they get shoved into rehab at twenty-two. They wear designers and go to award shows, not read them in magazines and watch them on television. There are no curfews, unlimited credit card limits and abortions ten percent off. So, tell me, why didn’t Sarah Silver choose that wonderful deal? I hear you get a new plasma screen television if you get two in one year! She was twenty-five years of age when she gave birth to her first child, so what’s the big deal. Plenty of people are ready for children at that age. But, she wasn’t plenty of people. She was a former trashy skank who happened to catch the wandering eye of some internationally acclaim criminal defence lawyer – or something like that. Now all of that was fine, why wouldn’t it be? Even when she gave birth to Tristan at age twenty-seven, it was fine. They were a happy family with everything to lose.

Unlike many of her fellow classmates, Tristan Silver had what you could call a normal childhood.

Learning to ride a bike, school plays, community soccer leagues – the works. Her father worked too many hours, sure, but what did that matter? He was fully devoted to his pretty little wife and his two, picture perfect children. Her mother was every man’s fantasy Susie homemaker. Her brother liked to get in trouble. She liked to help around the house. It was perfect. Boring. Gag worthy. Brady Brunch inducing sickness. That’s what it fucking was. But hey, we all dream about that world, don’t we? The American dream with fancier cars and bigger houses? Sure, you could easily love it in that silly dream world you locate to until math class is over, but that’s where the fun stops. Darren and Sarah Silver were a happy couple; all white smiles and Church going Sundays. Picture fucking perfect. Fourteen years of being the perfect little girl was horrendous. But, at the time, who really cared? Tristan’s classmates would mock her for being “perfect”, sure, but the stupid girl couldn’t get her head out of the clouds. She simply didn’t care. She loved life and, most of all, she loved her own life. She didn’t have to put up with five nannies a week, a cheating father, or a plastic Barbie doll mother. In her blue little eyes, her life was the perfect one. Everyone else was simply mistaken.

( IT HAPPENED )
Entering high school is some sort of weird fantasy little girl’s everywhere dream about until they are fourteen or fifteen years of age. Can someone please tell me what the fuck is up with that? Maybe it’s because of those cheesy teen dramas and those hilariously pathetic dramaedies about life as a sixteen year old girl in high school. The media puts some fake image of utter perfection into their impressionable little minds and it stays there until each and every little girl discovers high school is one thing and one thing only: god damn torture. Technically that could be counted as three things, but who’s counting? Whoever is, fire them. But, on your first day as a freshman, those dreams aren’t tarnished quite yet. You think you’ll go into freshman year and become what every girl wants to be: pretty, smiling, popular. Popular, above all else. Who wants to be hated? Well, I can tell you one thing, Tristan Silver had grown up in a boring, fairy tale sort of way – everything was so damn perfect. Oh, sorry. So darn perfect. She had been taught to stay nice and respectful. While her brother was a bit of a realist, she had never been given such luxury. In fact, she had started her freshman year of high school at Valkyrie Academy with many of the people she had grown up with. She had wandered into that intimidatingly posh building, wide-eyed and curious as she watched her fellow students. She was going to be just like those older girls, popular and fresh-faced and smiling. Just wait.

As the Silver family was blessed with good looks and enviable physiques, it really was no wonder that the girl was beginning to get exactly what she wanted. She was friendly and sweet to all the right people, and that tends to get you noticed. Maybe not in the way you want to be, but it worked. She was just another freshman, just another pretty little spineless girl. In time, she could be the queen bee, right? All year, in fact, she worked towards it. Like today’s Jessie Austin and little Erica Solstice, she was a slave to the A-listers. A cheap hook-up, a coffee run, an object to insult and make fun of. It’s just how it works. And, eventually, she would be accepted as one of them. It’s how it worked in the movies, and it’s how it worked at Valkyrie. Once she became a tainted sophomore, there would be a new army of freshman to be falsely sweet to. She might not be able to command those cute little faces around yet, but it would come with time. Just wait.

As the end of Tristan’s freshman year finally came to an end, her life was, in detailed terms, perfect. No alcohol runs lately. No insults directed at her all semester. Could that torment finally have come to an end?! OMG. Seriously?! Was she going to become the next…all of the future legends were in her own grade. Was she going to be one of them? Seriously? NO FUCKING WAY. You’re right, no fucking way. IT happened before she could get all of that. IT cracked and broke everything she had worked so hard for. IT is the reason everything became like this.

At the beginning, she had been like any other cute little freshman girl. With all of these ridiculous thoughts that high school would be different. She would be popular, independent and happy. A wide-eyed dream quickly shattered once she becomes a shattered sophomore. At the beginning, she thought everything would be fine. Why wouldn’t it be? It was just a party. The annual end-of-the-year bash thrown every year at a deserted farm a few miles outside of Valkyrie. At the beginning, everything was fine. It was your typical high school party ( the ones you read about, not the ones you’re invited to ) : her new connections got her into an end-of-school party, a cheerleader party with beer and seniors and music. It was just a farm a few miles from where she was supposed to be – a Chelsea’s slumber party. She blackmailed her brother into driving them. Her mother thought he was taking them roller skating. The unlimited flow of beer was stationed in the barn, with the lights and speaker. Most people hung at the edge of the lights. They looked like models in a blue-jeans ad, thinthinthin, big lips, big earrings, white smiles. She felt like such a little kid.

How about I save you the details? Because, like always, nothing really happened. It happened. The party. Whatever you want to call it, it happened.

It happened, and it was big. It was dirty. It was nasty. And, worst of all, it involved much of the A-list. It was a cheerleader party, and they need to suck up to the more popular girls anyways. But the police were never supposed to be called. The party was out of the community, and no one was ever supposed to find out. Sure, things happened. Bad things. But there was no reason to call for the authorities. No one was supposed to get hurt. And, most of all, no one was supposed to get caught. Especially for some pathetic little freshman to do it. What the fuck. Sadly for our little hero, it was a full two weeks before school ended. Plenty of time for the rumours to get round. It was soon common knowledge that little Tristan Silver had basically turned against everything Valkyrie had offered her. All she had ever wanted for so long. Just after it paid off, too. Damnit. What would you o if someone almost ruined your life? You’d get revenge. You’d exile her from becoming someone at Valkyrie. You’d bully her. You’d pick her out from the crowd. Even if you weren’t at that party, you’d hate her. Just for what she did to your friends, to your world.

The first two weeks were the worst. Everyone knew what the sad little girl with a funny accent did. Everyone knew that she shouldn’t have done it. Her brother was arrested at that party. His sister was raped at that party. They got drunk at that party. All of them got charged for whatever at the party. Hiding out for two months might heal the wounds, but come September? They’ll rip right open again. That’s what happened for Tristan Silver. She was unknown for two solid months, never seen once. The first day of her grade ten year, nothing changed. She got the same dark looks from the older girls and the same sour glares from her fellow sophomores. Her clothes were looser, and she wore no make-up. What was the point, right? For the next ten months, it wasn’t any different from before. Only this time, it was longer. Nearly a year, the poor girl took whatever those girls had to offer. The hazing, the humiliations, the insults, the rumours, whatever. She made friends with people like Nancy from Canada and Ted from Texas. They didn’t know what happened, and they probably didn’t care. Or they heard, and they felt sorry for her. I’d feel sorry for her.

Come junior year? Things have to change.
Oh, they did.

Just six odd months ago, everything changed. Tristan Heidi Silver arrived at school looking the same as she had when she was fourteen. Designer clothes, spike heels and shiny hair. Only now, her uniform looked different. She rolled the waistband of her skirt up the extra few inches, just so it was shorter than everyone else’s. She undid the top two buttons of her shirt, like always. But left only two or three in the center done up. Everything else was hanging out all over the place. She went to those same parties, those new people invited her, and kissed all the boys. She went and drank more than anyone else. She cut class and shot more heroine than the stoners. She had no problem standing up to those who had tormented her in the past. Just with a new edge. Not like brave little victim suddenly standing up to Stanley the Bully. Hell no. Everything that had happened changed her, IT happened, IT tormented her, IT transformed her. Tristan Silver used to be a sweet girl. Hell, she still was sometimes ( and those parents just love her ). But things were going to change this year. Just wait.

( xoxo. SCANDAL STAR )
At the beginning, Tristan had been a sweet girl. She really had been. A little spineless, maybe, but that’s to be expected. At the end, she was a completely different person. Reckless, nasty, slutty. Whatever you want to call it, that’s what she was. For awhile, what did it really matter, you know? What happened, happened. While people certainly weren’t going to let her forget for a long, long, long time, there’s no real use dwelling on it anymore. If there’s one thing that life in Valkyrie, California had taught her, it’s how to get revenge. No self-respecting girl goes into her teenage years without detailed knowledge about how and when to destroy someone else. But, when the whole community is out to get you, that’s slim pickings there, that is. So, let’s take it up a notch. Sarah Silver had always been good at that. She’d done it when she was in high school, and always taught her only daughter to go big, or go home.

So let’s go big.
Website big.
National big.
Maximum humiliation big.

Scandal Star big.

It was a small gossip blog to begin with, it really was. Tristan had never felt the need to give out trashy advertisements for her ingenious way of getting her own version of revenge. This way, no one could kick her anymore. Just a small blog on a sub-server of a much larger, unknown site. Insanejournal or something. Not quite like LiveJournal. But, eventually, people put two and two together. They realized those embarrassing photographs were, indeed, their favourite A-listers. What they do during their everyday lives, only to be caught by a shady shutterbug hiding in the bushes, while they secretly cry out for help. Humiliating poses, humorous expressions, things that could only cause problems. Like Valkyrie’s version of Perez Hilton, only ten times worse. This gossip blogger was out for revenge. The gloves were off this time.

Eventually, people caught on. Once she set up her own website, she was free to do what she wanted. People started taking their own photographs, and sending them in anonymously via e-mail. Forums were set up on the website, were the A-listers themselves began to argue over what happened. That was photoshopped! I was having an off day! It was a joke! Hah, right, Valkyrie. Keep telling yourselves that. Six months into the year, and Tristan Silver is finally getting her own edited version of sick, twisted revenge. Ruining their lives, just like they ruined hers. She’ll be a good girl and post herself once in awhile, but always with no strings attached. Her reputation is in the dirt anyways, no one wants to be her friend. No one popular, anyways. Maybe a few outsiders, but that’s it. Who cares about a former sweetheart who ruined Valkyrie alumni’s lives? Her own grade certainly doesn’t. So, let’s blog it.

You know you love me,

xoxo. Scandal Star.

It was a clever alias that got to the truth about those who had ruined her life for ruining their lives. Match made in fucking heaven. And it’s not going away anytime soon.

[asia4]

oh ew. that has to be the worst application ever. don't eat me for the face choice. don't eat her for being a bitch. you know you love her. and you know it's ( just barely )
ACCEPTED !