ALL WE ARE ,

[Tristan Silver]

TRISTAN SILVER

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YOU AND ME, WE HIT THE STREETS. LET'S
BURN THIS TOWN, RIGHT TO THE GROUND. AND WE'LL
GO DOWN LIKE EVERY LEGEND BEFORE US. SO WE'LL.
PART THE SEAS, MAKE HISTORY.[/color]
- - - - - - - - - - - -[/center]

- - - SHE WAS QUICKLY

[/color] growing tired of it. Of everything. She was growing tired of her father's "business trips"; of her mother's yogalates ( which weren't working, by the way ). Tristan Silver was sick and fucking tired of her parent's never-lacking efforts to portray themselves as the picture-perfect family. There. She said it. The "everything" she was so tired of was the "everything" image everyone living in Valkyrie, California assumed the Silver family to have. To evereything, the Silver's were one of the powerhouse families of Valkyrie. They were right. She knew they were right. Coming from generations of wealth and success, diamonds and fur - it was no lie. To everyone, the Silvers were also the perfect family. Apparently, it was oneo f the factors that put them a head above the rest. Darren and Sarah Silver were perfect together, in love. They had matching bleached smiles and fat gold watches. He didn't cheat. She didn't abuse his three American Express Blacks. Their oldest, Remy ( I think? ), was a stich in their history everyone recovered from quickly. Their youngest daughter, Tristan, is a sweet, unassuming girl who never looks down upon those so obviously beneath her.

But you also know that is total bullshit.

Remember how she was getting tired of this perfect "everything"? I do hope so. Because it was true. With each passing day, the Silver family was drifitng farther from that assumed perfection. That assumed stereotype. Her father's assistants were getting younger and blonder. Her mother's mani-pedis were now twice-weekly. She hadn't seen either of them together in days. She hadn't, in fact, seen her father at all in weeks. She stopped wondering the day he left. She stopped caring long before he left. No one cared. Not anymore. Even Max and her mood swings had become accustomed to the rare appearances of the powerful businessman. Although, her mother seemed teary several times a week. During dinner. When she should have been counting calories, and encouraging Tristan not to eat anything, she was staring at her crystal plate, aimlessly shoveling food down her windpipe. She almost felt bad for her mother. Almost. As time passed, and her family continued to break apart, it seemed even her immediate relatives were noticing. Her mother, for example. Landon, her irritating younger brother, had apparently been avoiding questions about his parents at school since the beginning of the term. Even his classmates assumed him to be as sweet and unassuming as their parents assumed Tristan was. Give it time. Her own classmates, at Valkyrie Academy, had long stopped paying attention to her family issues. No one cares, right? They knew it was all total bullshit - exactly like their own family lives. It was the older generations of Valkyrie that thought of her family as perfect and untouchable. Untouchable - sure. Perfect? Not really. Whatever. She didn't care. She was just sick and tired of her parents denying the obvious.

Not that they went without trying. Sitting upon the glossy leather couch in their living room sat Tristan Silver herself, sleek metallic laptop resting comfortably on her lap. She had been there the majority of the afternoon - ever since she had strolled in after classes had ended. Early Friday dismissals - she still loved them. The internet browser currently opened to her darkly-designed gossip blog ( not that she knew anything about who wrote it ), she sniffed lightly as she continued to write her snide comments about the candid A-listers. People were more loyal than ever to her alias, Scandal Star. More than ever before, she was finding photographed tips in her e-mail inbox. She hardly had to do snoopy around herself anymore. "Tristan, dear," her mother's silky voice echoed from the perfectly designed kitchen. What now? Her cobalt eyes rolling to the ceiling briefly, Tristan looked up to find Sarah Silver clicker-clackering her way into the living room. To what did she owe the pleasure? "Your father's plane is coming in early this evening. We were thinking of catching up, have dinner?" It was a question. Her mother was cautious of her daughter, almost intimidated. Ever since she had proven the venom that now ran through her veins, her parents had been on edge. What did they do with her? She wasn't as peachy-clean as they had always assumed, hoped. Be strict, she'd bite right back. Tristan had been the icy bitch to her parents earlier that week, just before her father left for a mysterious sexcapade business trip. Her mother didn't want that to happen again. She could tarnish the family name. She was still in denial, remember? She still tried. "Yeah. Fine." Slamming her laptop closed, the gossip blogger sat up and strided right past her mother, and up the stairs to her bedroom.

"How did Julia like sharing your hotel room?" Her voice was cold, threatening. Again. An easy half hour had allowed Tristan to re-apply her make-up and wear the latest dress she had bought. A simple twenty minutes, driven in silence, had been taken to arrive at La Fleur Violette - Valkyrie's swankiest restaurant. She was surprised her father had shown up at all. But he had, only fifteen minutes late. With his perfectly-cut Armani suit, fat gold watch and shiny new Italian loafers. It was shocking he hadn't brought his latest piece, some assistant who had the brain capacity of an eighth grader. "Her name is Jessica. And she did not accompany me." Lie. Darren Silver avoided Tristan's eyes when he spoke. Huh. He looked right at his wife, loving smile back on his tanned face. Glaring at her father from across the small, round table, she fell silent. Toying with the highly-polished salad fork that had come with her dinner, the eighteen year-old bit down on her lip. She hated this. She hated her parents pretending everything was perfect as ever. Things had been perfect when she was in the third grade, and he worked at some local company. They lived off their inheritances then. "Why didn't you wear the new Michael Kors I bought you last weekend? It was right on your bed." And again. Flaring her nostrils, Tristan slided her icy gaze toward her mother. Who was currently busy gazing into her husband's eyes, their hands clasped affectionately. Funny how even when they appeared stricken with one another, her mother could querstion her appearance. Wasn't the last five pounds she lost good enough? "I like this one better. I don't look forty in it." It's true. And the short, leather dress was sure to piss her parents off. Which is why she wore it. Falling silent, she watched as her father continued to stroke his wife's wrinkled hand. He was texting away under the table. Narrowing her eyes, she pushed herself into a standing position. "I have to go to the bathroom." Lie.

Wandering through the restaurant, her eyes looked around sharply. Andie Wallace had apparently scored a job as a waitress here. Good gig. Lucky they weren't hating on one another at the moment - it left plenty of room for taunting. Wealth was something Tristan Silver always had more of than almost anyone else. "Hey, Wallace!" Her thick accent ringing through half the dining room, she saw the blonde bombshell turn. "While filling your wallet with my neighbours tips is heart-warming, I want to go out. Get someone to cover for you." Slapping one of her own credit cards on the sidestand where they stood, Tristan arched an eyebrow. "Give yourself tonight's tips." She had yet to ditch her parents right in the middle of a meal. But sitting in the diamond bubble was as irritating was watching it. Probably worse.[/size][/blockquote][/font]STATUS,, complete.
LENGTH,, 1317 words.
TAGGED,, EPIC ANDIE.
TIME & PLACE,, october 12, 2007; la fleur violette.
CLOTHING,, clicketh.
NOTES,, gah, late and rushed ending. hope the load of GM-ing was okay?
CREDITS,, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to madina lake - 'legends'.

[Andromeda Wallace]

( ANDIE AINSLEY WALLACE )
LA FLEUR VIOLETTE, OCTOBER 12, 2007, AFTERNOON

no method in our madness
just pride about our manners
. . . . . . .

wow. it was sort of like andromeda wallace had her life on track or something. last month she had moved out of her aunt's house and into her very own apartment in the hitten apartment building. it was cheap enough, but she had still needed a small loan from her aunt to get her started. plus a very, very vast majority of her furniture now situated in the apartment had been taken from the basement of her old house; it was all old stuff that her aunt had owned and used throughout the years but had never gotten rid of. to avoid having her apartment look like a rich tapestry of furniture that had been in the vogue from the 60's, 70's and 80's, andie had bought a whole bunch of pretty chair and couch covers with some of her own money that she had saved up and used them to effectively cover up the yucky, hideously out of date colors and patterns. so, all in all, the place didn't really look bad at all. she was actually quite fond of it. though it had surprised her a little at how she didn't feel like living alone was some brand new exciting thing for her. after a little while, she realized that it was probably because she may as well have been living alone all the years she had been living in greece for how distant and remote her father had always, always been. it really felt sort of natural. apparently she was good at this whole independent thing; which was sort of context in which she had never thought about herself. but anyway, now that she had to actually pay rent - and pay off the loan from her aunt - , it didn't take a genius to realize that it really would be a smart idea for her to get a job. and so that was exactly what she had done. it had been a bit easier than she had anticipated, but, in retrospect, she had probably been a bit dim to anticipate what she had, because there were not a whole lot of qualifications you needed to be a waitress.

and la fleur violette, despite being a haven for stupid stuck up rich people, wasn't actually such a bad place to be working at. andie actually rather liked being a part of the classiness and high society feel that was attached to the restaurant. and it was easy work. you just had to smile. be nice, write down the orders, relay them to the cooking staff, bring the food and drinks to the tables and bring the check. simple. something she was actually relatively good at. and the pay was decent, so there was really no going wrong with it. though she was trying to focus a lot on speaking clear, non accented english simply so that she didn't have and bozos asking her to repeat herself over and over again. it happened somewhat frequently here in america, especially when she was ordering at starbucks for some reason. she was pretty successful in that particular endeavor; she wasn't able to completely pull her the greek accent out of her words, but she did pretty well. everyone was always able to understand her, at least. and, while, on the topic of her new job, while it did pay well, she had decided that she no longer had a place for cigarettes in her budget. not that she had ever really spent her own money on cigarettes in the first place - she had more often than not simply stolen them from her cousin robbie - , but they were relatively expensive, and now that she was pretty much on her own financially, she decided it was as good a time as any to just quit. it wasn't like she had ever been a big time smoker in the first place; she had averaged out on smoking three or four cancer sticks every two or three weeks, but it felt good, making a decision she knew was healthy. kind of weird, but good all the same.

of course, her new apartment and her very first official job really weren't the biggest news in her life, either. she saved that title for donny davis, her, gasp, boyfriend. she had been with him for about three months and it was just kind of amazing. she hadn't ever felt this way before. he made her happy. like, actually happy. it was actually slightly strange. and, though she was pretty sure he might have been one of the best things to have ever happened to her... she was also scared. terrified absolutely shitless. caring about someone the way she cared about donny... it just felt dangerous. because, if life had taught her anything, it was that the people you cared about were the ones that could hurt you the very most.

she felt bad for thinking those kind of doubtful thoughts, but lately they had been creeping up on her more and more. like right now for example. she was standing before a table at la fleur violette, at which a young couple evidently on a lunch date or something were seated. she had just smiled politely at them and asked if she could start them off with some drinks when her mind had suddenly wandered and been consumed with an uneasy, listless feeling. she almost missed their orders. they both wanted sparkling water. fancy rich idiots. she smiled at them again, jotted it down sloppily on her classy waitress notepad. it wasn't until after she had told the couple that she would be back momentarily with their beverages that she realized she had written the words in greek. huh. several minutes later her found her presenting the couple with their fancy assed sparkling water and heading off to give them some time to ponder over which fifty dollar entre they wanted. "hey, wallace!" andie flinched with surprise at hearing her surname being called out with a fair amount of force through the dining hall. she stopped midstep and turned around to behold none but tristan silver herself, the girl she usually hated with most every fiber in her being. lately, though, not so much. "while filling your wallet with my neighbours tips is heart-warming, i want to go out. get someone to cover for you." well, that was rather random. she simply stood immobile for a moment, staring at the tall, tanned teenager. "give yourself tonight's tips." tristan slapped a credit card onto the sidestand they were both in close proximity to and arched an eyebrow.

ditching work in the middle of shift was probably something model employees did not do, especially employees who needed the cash they were working the job for in the first place. however, andie had to admit that heading out with tristan and getting trashed or something was definitely looking far more appealing than taking orders of food that she didn't know how to pronounce for stupid rich fuckers at the moment, especially now, while her thoughts were threatening to take her to places that she really didn't want to go to. coincidentally enough, one of her fellow waiters happened to attempt to scurry calmly past her with a small platter of salmon. his name was enrique or something. andie caught him by the arm and flashed him a sultry smile. "cover for me? please?" she asked, her accented voice hopeful. enrique looked rather exasperated and seemed to think it over for a moment, but finally nodded. "thank you!" she said happily, though she was already turning away from him. giving tristan a quick smirk, she crossed the distance between them and snatched the girl's credit card up from the side table. "i think we can find some way to get plenty of use out of this if we think hard enough," she said, keeping her voice low enough so the whole dining area didn't hear them. she then grabbed tristan's arm and lead her purposefully out of the restaurant. now standing in the californian sunshine, she crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one hip. "where to?"

. . . . . . .

status , finished.
tagged , tristan!! <3
attire , waitressing uniform.
credits , lyrics: adam and the ants. formatting: me.
notes , yay.

[Tristan Silver]

( TRISTAN HEIDI SILVER )

OCTOBER 12TH, 2007. MID-EVENING. LA FLEUR VIOLETTE/THE INFERNO.

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you and me, we'll hit the streets,
LET'S BURN THIS TOWN RIGHT TO THE GROUND
AND WE'LL GO DOWN LIKE EVERY LEGEND BEFORE US
SO WE'LL PART THE SEAS, MAKE HISTORY
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- - - ON THE WAY<3

[/b] my laptop likes to unsave my formats xD[/size][/font][/blockquote]STATUS,, incomplete.
TAGGED,, EPIC ANDIE.
LENGTH,, 0 words.
CLOTHING,, clicketh.
NOTES,,
CREDITS,, format and graphics to me.
lyrics to madina lake - "legends."[/size]