my little d e c o y // ebony

[MADDIE ♥]

close your eyes and make believe

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THIS IS WHERE YOU[/b][/color]
wanna be. forgetting all the memories, try to forget love 'cause love's forgotten me[/i][/color][/font]
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T

[/size]he only bad thing about model houses is, they give you free time. Way too much free time that Jaymee Jillenhaal didn't know how to spend. She grew up in front of the camera, her mother dragging her photo shoot to photo shoot, wardrobe to wardrobe, hair salon to hair salon. In the world Jaymee grew up in, 'free time' just didn't exist. But here it did exist, and everyone else knew exactly how to spend it. The other girls were either whispering to each other, piled on the couch watching TV, or checking out the boys, who, in turn, were checking them out too. But as for Jaymee? Well...let's just say she wasn't exactly welcome to join them, even if she wanted to. Why? Because let's just say Miss Jillenhaal wasn't exactly nice to any of them. At all.

Yes, Jaymee is a bitch, perhaps one of the biggest in the house, if not the biggest in the house. She's known to do whatever it takes to get on top, and she doesn't care the tiniest bit about what might happen to anyone else in the process. So maybe that's why the other girls tended to avoid her. Actually...no maybe about it. That had to be it. Jaymee just wasn't 'friend' material, and they all knew that. But, honestly, she didn't care. She didn't care about friends or boyfriends or any of that other pathetic stuff. All she cared about was winning, about being the best. She had no time for petty little friendships.

J[/size]aymee sighed, strutting through the halls in her five-inch expensive heels, causing a loud click-click-clicking to echo through the house. Not knowing exactly where it was she wanted to go, she wandered aimlessly through the large building, smirking to herself as she saw the way some girls she had terrorized previously avert their eyes. It was such fun for her to see the damage she caused them. With a sigh and a slip of her wavy blonde hair, she entered the living room, pausing at the threshold and scanning the faces of the people who occupied it. No one worth wasting time with. She exhaled and clicked loudly over to one of the many empty red-velvet couches. Seating herself at the end, she immediately went to inspecting her new manicure, waiting for this damned 'free time' to end already.
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[/color]![/b] LE DISKO ?! of CAUTION 2.0
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[EBONY FLARE]

they said i'd make it to hollywood,

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but i'm just still stuck here[/i][/size][/font][/color][/center]

Ebony walked down the hallway, coming from her office, thoroughly annoyed that the press thought there was something going on between her and --- LARK. It was ridiculous what the press could think, Ebony going out with a mere model or photographer whore. She flipped her thin blonde hair over her shoulder in disgust as she heard the clicking of her stiletto heels on the hard granite flooring of the mansion.

The sound was comforting, one that made Ebony feel like she was at home. There was a sudden flashback, of when she was a child, listening to her mother, Jellyka Flare, argue on the phone with one of her designers. Only a small child, Ebony could vaguely remember the words of the cold young woman, who Ebony had suddenly become. Except maybe more of a skank or slut. But it was her role, and she had to play it no matter what, she couldn't be a softy who barely spoke out. Ebony had to be strong, bold, brilliant, independent, and striking. It was apart of the job.

Ebony, who was a neat freak, had been surprisingly sloppy and a mess today. Last night had been rough, staying up so late finishing things for her VOGUE addition that month. Her life had been tiring, but she couldn't complain. Ebony had the job any regular girl would kill for. Being thankful was essential. To the press and to her employee's.

Eb sighed as she turned into the living room full and alive with many models and some photographers and writers scattered around the huge open room. She turned to her favorite red, velvet, vintage chair, only to see another blonde, tall, stunning girl. Sighing, as if nothing was going to be a problem, she gave her a look. 'My seat.' Ebony said, simply stating a fact, and the girl could obviously get that Ebony wanted her out of that chair and out of her way.

The nerve of some models these days... Ebony thought to herself. Bitch models really weren't a stereotype; it was true. Out in the fashion world, it was a dog-eat-dog world. Do anything to get to the top, even if it meant poisoning your best friend with african health bars to get kids much fatter. Or hiring a false surgeon to operate on your sister's face. Anything that was a threat, had to be dealt with.


outfit;; clicky!
words;; 405
ooc;; i luffles my maddie! :] oh, and i can't wait to plot between the two bitches! xD

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