Post by ainsley on Jul 24, 2011 19:25:06 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #343B57 solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] There is no reason and the truth is plain to see The Lyrics: 'Whiter Shade Of Pale' by Procol Harum The Outfit: here Tagged open The Notes go ahead and snag ;] you know you want to! --- Ainsley sighed, and continued to flick channels on the TV. As usual, nothing was on. The dark haired girl stood up, before taking another swig of her vodka and went to put her bowl of cocoa puffs out. Sure, it may have been almost time for dinner, but she loved the chocolately cereal almost as much as she loved her vodka. And that was definitely saying something. The girl didn’t bother to wash the bowl; instead she just left it there with the empty fishbowl and the several half-finished bottles of alcohol, making a mental note to clean it up later. Ainsley went to her bedroom, looking for something half decent to wear, she figured since there was nothing she had to do tonight, she might as well go out and have a little fun. She tossed things across the room, not really caring where they landed, or if they broke. She'd take care of the mess in the morning. A few broken bottles and a lot of clothes later, the dark haired girl eventually found what she was looking for. It was her favourite dress, the one that she’d sewn a secret pocket into on the side, so she could keep cigarettes,money, or a condom, she hated carrying a bulky purse to a dance joint . "I'm not getting nay younger," she muttered to herself as she headed for the door, wearing a sexy green dress, belted with a studded black belt, and a pair of heels that made her legs look a mile long. She smiled at herself, looking young and confident. The prospect of aging disgusted her, anyway. She would rather die young and pretty than all old and wrinkly. And it wasn’t like anyone would be there to care if she died when she was old and wrinkly. By that point, all her ‘friends’ would probably all have died from an overdose or something similar. A good ten minutes later, she was finally out of the house. It was still sort of cold out, and she was thankful that she’d remembered to bring her leather jacket. She made her way to the club, which was only a short walk from the apartments she called home. The line surprisingly wasn’t long, and she hoped, being a newbie in town she wouldn't have a problem getting in. She had been warned by her friend Cam that the clubs were a bit heavy here and she'd ought not go alone, but being the over adventurous girl she was, Ainsley didn't listen. With a bounce in her step she slipped into the line behind a few taller, skinner girls and grinned to herself noticing she was nearly five time sprettier than both of them. As the line progressed people were turned away by the man admitting clubbers and he shook his head quickly at the two girls directly infront of her. When they walked away pissing and moaning she bit her lip and looked up at the man at the door. He made a hitch hikers thumb and pointed her inward. The minute she stepped through the doors she let out a breath of relief and headed towards the bar for some pre-dancing jitters relief. |