|
Post by Andrea Mason on Mar 27, 2012 20:24:53 GMT -5
Andrea had been to enough go-sees to know that half of their decision to book you was based on how you looked. She had a full closet at home, but you always had to demonstrate that you knew what was in at the moment and what trends went well with your body type. She knew her type. She was athletic and edgy, bombshell in simple jeans and a t-shirt. She knew her body. She knew what she looked good in, and right now she didn't own what she looked good in so she needed to go shopping.
Bags were held in one hand as she scowered the store for something that would bring her out but not bring her into debt. Sure, she was a fairly successful model, but she wasn't a top model so she wasn't quite up to being able to afford the kind of clothes she modeled. She needed simple, couture, and chic, and of course, some accessories wouldn't hurt. Her usual frown creased her forehead as she flipped through clothes. She was trying not to appear so surly, it being the main comment she got back from agencies when pointing out what she needed to change, but god dammit this was her off time.
|
|
|
Post by Rebecca Ashlyn Snow on Apr 3, 2012 16:44:44 GMT -5
Ashlyn wandered through the various isles, trying to find some clothing that wouldn't make her gag. Actually, she was trying not to gag in general. She hated shopping, and it was only a realization that half of her things didn't fit her anymore that had brought her here at all. And to make matters worse she was in a department store in new York, something that definitely wasn't her scene.
There'd been a time when her family had been tight on money and when most of her and younger sister's clothes had come thrift stores. That necessity had ended a while ago but Ashlyn still did most of her shopping there. She was a little bit of cheapskate, and thought spending more than 10$ for anything was ridiculous. But her mother had given her a gift card for her birthday that she still hadn't used, and so here she was. In hell.
She'd found a couple of things that seemed okay, though she really wasn't happy with either of them. She was heading toward the dressing room with what Elise had dubbed her drunken zombie walk. Slow and lazy, with slumped shoulders and her head lolling to the side just a bit, her hair swinging in her face. It was a walk that seemed to scream, 'someone kill me now.'
Due to the whole hair/head thing, she couldn't see where she was going and so it wasn't really a surprise when she bumped into someone.
"Sorry." she mumbled, looking at the person. Ashlyn was a klutz, so she really wasn't surprised she found someone to crash into. She'd even knocked a bag out of her hands and its contents had spilled out on the floor. She should probably pick it up, but sometimes people didn't like when you touched there stuff. Rather than deal with that possible awkwardness, she took a step back, intending to head around the rack in the opposite direction.
|
|
|
Post by Andrea Mason on Apr 5, 2012 12:13:14 GMT -5
She had just been pulling something out to try on when someone ran right into her. Oh hell fricken no, that had not just happened to her. No one would be so stupid to run right into her. She wasn’t just some other girl shopping for clothes, she was important, how she looked was what earned her money. She was intimidating, she was someone whose whole demeanor screamed, ‘Stay the fuck away from me and I won’t mess up your shit for the rest of your sad little life.’ And yet someone still thought it would be okay to get in her space, touch her, and make her drop a bag. Well things were about to go down.
“Excuse me, bitch,” she said with a sarcastically pleasant smile, making sure to memorize the features of her face unless she ever saw her again. She looked delicate and frail, which made her even more angry. What hell-ass excuse for a god would let something as pathetic as that live? Did this girl think that she’d just be able to whimper and she’d let her go? No, Andrea was strong and fit and she’d worked for it and this girl wouldn’t get away so easily. “Why don’t you pick up what you knocked down like the good little moron you are?”
[/blockquote][/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by Rebecca Ashlyn Snow on Apr 6, 2012 22:49:01 GMT -5
She had to bump into someone snarky. Ashlyn considered ignoring them and walking off anyway, but just picking up the stupid bag would probably be easier. And who knows, maybe this girl would be crazy enough to come after her.
Ashlyn spun around on her heels slowly, like zombie slow, and faced this person. She gave her a blank stare for a second before sighing and walking over to pick up this apparently vitally important clothing bag. She bent down to pick it up with her normal Ashlyn slowness, which was still pretty slow. She may have rolled her eyes too, but she wasn't sure the girl saw as she had kind of been bent over by that point.
She gathered the few things that had spilled out and flung them carelessly back inside before straightening. She held the bag out lazily on a couple of fingers. Her eyes were still blank and dull and her slouch said most clearly that she was bored. She didn't say anything, just resisted the desire to dump the bags contents in the girl's feet.
|
|
|
Post by Andrea Mason on Apr 8, 2012 21:40:23 GMT -5
Oh, so the little bitch wanted to play, did she? If she had just cleaned up the mess she made like a good little girl she might've gotten away with no more than a sneer of disgust, but no, she had to sulk like a 16-year-old being asked to clean up their room. God she hated little bitches like that. She was probably here to do her usual weekend shopping with her daddy's credit card, but Andrea didn't have a "daddy," and her credit card was paid for with her own money, and her clothes were for her job, and some spoiled brat didn't have the right to throw them around.
Which is why when she went to grab the bag from her hand, she made sure to "accidentally" knock them out of her hand to let them tumble to the ground. "Ooops, why don't you pick those up again and hold them out with a stronger hand," she said with another smile. Andrea had two types of smiles: her fake smile and her real smile, and one of them was used far more often than the other, and it was easy to guess which one that was. One look at her eyes would tell anyone how close she was to lashing out physically.
|
|
|
Post by Rebecca Ashlyn Snow on Apr 13, 2012 23:23:59 GMT -5
Ashlan looked down at the bag, her chest pulling together in an almost unnoticeable sigh. She had to bump into someone who cared. This whole thing would have been over and both their lives would have been so much simpler if she just could have gotten over herself for five seconds. Not caring made things so much easier, and Ashlyn wished more people could see how much not caring really was the best way to go. But nobody else ever realized that, which was the problem. More people should be like her, because she didn;t care, and if everyone else was the same then they would all get along just great.
She really didn't want to deal with this anymore, because it was becoming way more of a hassle than it was worth. She looked at the person, then back at the bag, then back up at the person. Her decision was made.
"Nope." she was done with this. She turned around, knowing that she probably wasn't going to get off that easy. But that was the thing, she didn't care, look at that. Granted, she might care if a few moments, but she didn't care about that either.
|
|
|
Post by Andrea Mason on Apr 14, 2012 12:27:20 GMT -5
Oh, so now she was deciding to fight back? How cute, well, except for the fact that she was now playing Andrea at her own game, one she knew the rules of well. This pretty little princess was going to find that she should pick her battles a little more wisely, because Andrea was simply not in the mood for letting anyone get away with pissing her off. Not that she usually was in a mood for letting people piss her off, but now she was extra pissed because this girl seemed like a spoiled brat and there was nothing she hated more.
However, she was done with the fake smiles and cutesey voice, she hated using those anyway and it wasn't really her at all. She didn't really buy into that whole fake nice thing, she always let people know exactly how she felt about them and she didn't care if she hurt their feelings or they cried or anything. It was silly for people to not know what annoying pains they were, and no one would ever realize they were an asshole if everyone pretended to like them. So her voice dropped an octave lower when she said, "You're going to pick that up whether you like it or not," as she grabbed the girl's shoulder and spun her around.
|
|
|
Post by Rebecca Ashlyn Snow on Apr 20, 2012 22:18:15 GMT -5
There was pressure on her shoulder and she was being whirled around. Ashlyn cringed and her face pulled up in a little grimace. Physical contact. Not cool. Very not cool. She was so startled it took her a minute to regain her bearings.
She wrenched herself out of the other girls grip with difficulty, she was surprisingly strong. Ashlyn had to take another second to relax. She looked up at the girl slowly, a dead look on her face. She was a little bit irritated now. Why couldn't this girl just let her go? She was probably some spoiled brat that was used to people giving her whatever she wanted. Ashlyn hated those people, she'd never gotten along with them.
She was at a bit of a crossroads. At this point it was on her to pick the easy route and just do what the girl wanted so she could get out of here and everything would be wonderful for both of them. But at the same time she didn't like giving in too easily. She hated feeling like other people were controlling her, and manhandling definitely counted as controlling. She liked to feel independent, and letting other people intimidate her didn't fit well with that.
So which was going to win, her laziness or her snarkiness? She decided she didn't like this person, and therefore did not want to give her satisfaction. She held her hands in front of her slowly and cleared her throat as though she was about to say something important. "Ummm...actually I think I'm uhhh leaving..." She then darted quickly to the right this time, walking three times as fast as she usually did.
|
|
|
Post by Andrea Mason on Apr 21, 2012 16:34:00 GMT -5
Andrea could see her faltering. What had been confident defiance before had fizzled into stuttering fear. It was obvious which of them was the stronger person. Maybe this girl had just thought Andrea was some pretty princess used to getting things her way, but Andrea was tough. She'd lived in a trailer and hung out with the wrong crowd and now that she was up here in college she fucking took care of herself even with an extremely competitive career choice. She didn't have some manager to drive her around or make her appointments, she did it all by herself, and that wasn't easy.
And maybe she was finally realizing that there was more to Andrea than she seemed and now all she wanted was out. She'd had a chance to get out, but that chance had slipped through her fingers and now Andrea wasn't going to back down. She was past the point of no return, her anger was boiling over like the ocean during a hurricane. She stepped forward with menace in her usually pretty face as she said, "I don't think so," and threw one of her bags at the figure trying to get away. Whoever said revenge was best served cold had lived on leftovers for too long, revenge was best served while the steam was still rising from it.
|
|
|
Post by Rebecca Ashlyn Snow on Apr 27, 2012 18:39:12 GMT -5
Ashlyn paused as something smacked into her side and fell to the floor. She looked at the bag that had hit her, then at the girl, then back at the bag. She was trying to decide if what she had thought just happened had really happened. Her face pinched together and she gave her a weird look that probably said something along the lines of 'Are you kidding me?' It was certainly what she was thinking. Who exactly did this girl think she was? And did she actually just throw a bag, in a store, with other people around? The store wasn't crowded, but there were a few people there. people who now giving them both strange looks. Ashlyn hated it when people looked at her like that, it made her almost unbearably uncomfortable.
She sighed and held her hand stiffly at her side to keep herself from running them through her hair as that would just be awkward. She gave the girl another withering look, all of this over a stupid bag, she mused bitterly. She'd even picked it up for her in the first place, this person either had major snob issues or just liked bossing people around a lot. Ashlyn clicked her tongue and then pressed her lips tightly together, making sure she voiced none of these comments out loud.
She had no idea what to say either, and to avoid standing there awkwardly she reached down and grabbed the bag. She held it from her body at arms length, as though it were something gross. "Umm..." She started, trying to keep any sarcasm or malice out of her voice. "That was....a little counter-productive."
|
|
|
Post by Andrea Mason on Apr 28, 2012 12:32:09 GMT -5
Who'd this girl think she was to be saying things like that? She didn't need any life lessons or to be told how to live, she'd been told that her whole life and it had all gone downhill until she'd started living life for herself. Maybe she was the kind of person who acted like they sat on top of their little hill and looked down on everyone else, until the day when they fell off and got a look at themselves in the puddle and realized they were just as bad as everyone else so maybe they shouldn't be telling everyone else how to live.
“I don't think it's counter-productive to teach people to respect me,” she said with a sneer as she snatched the bag from the girl's hand, being sure to look down on her as much as possible, “but obviously you do think so, and that's why no one does respect you.” She was circling her in a slow, thoughtful manner, the way one would regard a particularly hideous piece of art. She was looking at her like she was wondering what had possessed the artist to create something so completely useless to mankind. She voiced her thoughts in every movement of her body.
|
|
|
Post by Rebecca Ashlyn Snow on May 6, 2012 18:55:43 GMT -5
Ashlyn barely even moved when the girl snatched the bag away. Her face remained blank, but her eternally sarcastic voice was saying; yay, she has her bag back. Now everything is right in the universe and they could both go back to the part where they ignored each other's existences and never crossed paths again and Ashlyn would leave and probably never come back and everything would be great.
Except, she was still talking. Something about respect being her justification for all this and how Ashlyn wasn't respected because she, didn't do stuff like that?
Her face pinched together as she thought about that. People certainly didn't respect her, that was true, but they didn't really disrespect her either. They just ignored her. Did that count as disrespect? She wasn't sure, but did she actually really care whether it did or about any of this stuff anyway? Not. At. All.
She didn't say anything, just looked at her and blinked. "Mmhmm" her arms folded across her chest and stared vaguely at her left. Just a second ago she wanted to leave, but no she figured she'd just turn into a zombie and wait for this girl to get bored and leave. Then she could go undisturbed, which would be, spectacular.
|
|
|
Post by Andrea Mason on May 6, 2012 22:17:22 GMT -5
Andrea could not believe how infuriating this girl was. Just how entitled could a little bitch get? Probably the kind of stupid little girl who got driven around by a chaffeur and just texted people all day instead of actually talking to them. The kind of girl who whined her parents into giving her the master bedroom and into letting her have big parties on the weekend. Parties? What a joke. If Andrea had ever wanted one she had to find one cause her house was a trailer and she never brought anyone, not even boyfriends home.
What this girl really needed to learn were some manners, but Andrea had a feeling that kind treatment wouldn't stick, and it wasn't like she knew how to apply kind treatment in the first place. What she needed was some sort of reaction instead of her stupid little dead eyes, like she was just way too cool for this. God how Andrea hated people who were younger than her, they always thought they were all that. What she really wanted was an excuse to hit her but she didn't think that would be coming anytime soon, she would have to squeeze it out of her, so she took a step closer. “So did you learn your lesson or do you need to go over your notes again?”
|
|
|
Post by Rebecca Ashlyn Snow on Jun 2, 2012 9:19:03 GMT -5
Ashlyn sighed, again. Was she ever going to get out of here? She wasn't just going to try walking off again, that had been way to awkward and everyone had been staring at them and it had just been freaky. Maybe she could make up some sob story about how it was her little sister's birthday or this was her first time shopping in a not thrift store. Except that she was a terrible liar, and even though the second one was almost true it wouldn't work either because she was also a terrible truth teller.
She ran her hands through her hair. "Which one? The one about not being a mega-klutz, or the one about not being lazy or the one about not bowing over to self-entitled bitches?" Okay so that last one probably wasn't the best thing to say if she wanted to get out of her before next Tuesday, but she hadn't been able to help it. This girl really needed to stop caring so much about how people freaking treated her, especially when said freaking people were just stupid freshmen who most people with sense would just write off as an idiot and completely ignore.
But maybe she hadn't heard her anyway, she hadn't been looking at her as she said this as Ashlyn hated making eye contact with people who didn't like her, or even people at all. She'd also mumbled, but then again she'd been mumbling almost this entire conversation, but that part had been particularly pronounced,
|
|
|
Post by Andrea Mason on Jun 2, 2012 16:24:58 GMT -5
Andrea raised one of her eyebrows. She was a little bit impressed, no that someone would say something like that to her, but that someone of such a small and diminutive stature would. Obviously she was still a spoiled brat, but at least she wasn't the kind that would go off and cry in a corner or call a bodyguard. She would be lying if she said a bit of a challenge wouldn't excite her, but in the end, she was preoccupied with teaching this brat a lesson. Backtalk only got you so far with her, and it would have to be more impressive than that if she wanted a free pass.
“Nice try but you've got nothing on me,” she said in a mocking tone, “guess you decided to try on your mama's heels, but guess what? I'm a big girl.” She took another step closer to her with the girl's bag still dangling from her hand. She was daring her to do something, but really she was expecting the water works to come. Andrea wasn't known for playing nice, in fact, that had been one of the notes on her permanent record starting from elementary school: “Doesn't work well with others.” She remembered throwing her science fair experiment at her partner and it brought a smile to her face. She wondered how this one would react when the chemicals hit her.
|
|