☆ before i die ☆ full&open

join?

-o1	18.8%	[ 3 ]
+o1	50.0%	[ 8 ]
poll hoe yo!	31.2%	[ 5 ]
Total Votes:			[ 16 ]

[laceandlouboutins]

████ Bяσσkε ||♥|| εmiℓy ████

miss model in training

❝Above all, remember that the most important thing you can take anywhere is not a Gucci bag or French-cut jeans; it's an open mind❞

███████████████████████████████ █ █ █ █ █

[indent]Black or White? Pink or Cream? Jimmy Choo or Miu Miu? Brooke was not able to decide what to pack this morning for her flight to Paris, so of course, the girl brought it all. From Armani to Chanel, Marchesa to Pucci, Brooke knew all of the latest fashions, and any outlet store with prices over $1,000.00 was her playground. Yes, the girl was a Shopoholic, but only when necessary. If Brooke found a pair of golden shoes that matched wonderfully with her gorgeous blonde locks, she would immediately cash them in with her AmEx, her Visa or her MasterCard. If she found a light blue Dior summer dress that went well with her cream complexion, Brooke would splurge and pay whatever she needed to in order to get that dress. There was also the issue of shoes. When Brooke bought shoes, she always thought about the mood she was in, or moods that were soon to come. If she was feeling playful she would pick of a pair of open toe Jimmy Choo heels or maybe a silver pair of gladiator sandals. If she was feeling sexy, the tallest pair of fire-engine red Manolo’s she could find, if she was feeling flirty, she would pick up a pair or three of booties and don those for the occasion. Brooke had over 500 heels and different pairs of shoes. She always knew when to wear what, and how exactly to dress for her mood.

[indent]Right now she was expressing nervous but excited in a white and Navy blue Paul & Joe Sister Cindy cotton-jersey dress. Paired with the dress was a pair of Louboutin’s Espadrille wedges, one of her favourite pairs of shoes from his collection. Brooke sometimes clashed when she was nervous, but she knew these shoes matched well enough and people would probably stop and stare at her on the plane. The plane ride to Paris, France. Paris. Brooke still couldn’t get over the fact that the six of them were headed to Paris. Her insides were tingling with pride, joy, excitement, nerves and terror and had been since this morning when she had woken up. It had taken her at least three hours to put together one small outfit and do her hair, when it usually took her only one. Yes, she was able to look this good while only putting an hours worth of effort into herself. With aspirations to become a future Fashion Model, Brooke knew that she had to learn all the tricks in the book to making yourself look gorgeous as quickly and elegantly as possible. Brooke had carefully planned her outfit today however, from head to toe. From the “D&G Rose” perfume she was wearing to the white Jackie O bombshell sunglasses above the bridge of her nose, Brooke made herself look like perfection. All while hauling four chocolate brown leather Coach suitcases full of her clothing.

[indent]By the time the girl had made it to the Airport and her luggage had been picked up by a kind man, Brooke’s nerves were beginning to get the best of her. She’d sat in the Terminal for a while, with her ticket in hand, trying not to rip it as she played with it. When Brooke was nervous, she fidgeted, and often ripped or crinkled objects in her hands. Being just a regular American girl, Brooke hadn’t really travelled much, asides from a trip to Los Angeles one time to go shopping on Rodeo Drive. While there, she had bought over 50 grand worth of stuff, and knew she was in debt over her head. That was another thing about Brooke. She never borrowed Daddy’s money like all of the other Princesses in her school. Brooke had her own bank account and her own unlimited credit cards as she was holding a steady job as an Intern at the “Vogue” office situated just a few miles from their town. Brooke made more than enough for a High School student, but still not enough for the shopping habits she’d grown accustom to. Paying for this flight and the flights to come was something Brooke knew her Father wasn’t too happy about, and of course it just meant spending more money, but the girl wanted to do this. One thing about Brooke Sawyer was that she always got what she wanted.

[indent]It didn’t take very long for the plane to start boarding after Brooke had arrived. Wishing she actually were a Fashion Model, Brooke’s fantasy thoughts took her to a place where the plane had waited for her to arrive. Where she was a star, and no one would be leaving or saying anything until she walked on. Yes, Brooke Sawyer had high hopes and dreams of becoming a model. No one would be able to tarnish that. As soon as Brooke looked down at her ticket number, she located her seat. Eventually locating it, she groaned a little. Of course, she was sitting next to Peter. Placing herself in the seat and keeping her eyes glued straight ahead to the seat in front of her, Brooke picked up her white and black quilted Chanel handbag, searching for her yellow iPod nano. As soon as she turned it on and Kesha’s “Tik Tok” filled the speakers vibrating in her ears, Peter’s voice rang out as well. Taking a good look at him, Brooke just smiled. He was still as adorable as ever, but the fact that he didn’t agree with her plans to have a career in modelling really threw her off about him. Obviously, him being her first love, she would never get over him, but she knew there were some things a girl had to do in order to forget. Deciding to be civil, Brooke smiled up at Peter, never once removing her sunglasses from her head, nor removing her gaze from his. The plane, she figured, had barely started and he was already wondering when they were going to land. Shrugging ever so slightly, Brooke turned the volume of her speakers up louder, trying to cut any tension between the two, knowing she was probably making things worse. But as she looked out the window which was, awkwardly, on Peter’s side, she sighed and placed her hand on her chin in a contemplating manor. She was thinking the exact same thing as Peter. Brooke wanted the plane to land so they could get out of the boring town they lived in and walk onto the runway in Paris, France. Even if it wasn’t necessarily a Fashion Runway, but instead a plane runway, Brooke would walk the runway with her all, in hopes that one day, sooner than later, she would get discovered as a world class Model.

[indent]But it wasn't, in fact, just the trip to Paris that Brooke was excited about. Oh no, there was so much more this blonde haired 5'11 girl could be rejoicing right now. For Brooke Emily Sawyer was about to be travelling all around the world right now with her five best friends, and she knew this was going to be a summer she would never forget. Looking out the window again, she thought back to the time in Grade 9 where the group of friends had decided they were going to make a list of 100 Things to do before they die. Brooke had always figured it was just a silly list they would look back on and laugh at when they got older, but she'd never known they would actually set out to achieve their goals, their dreams. Some of them, sure, they were impossible, but Brooke knew her and her friends were always able to achieve the impossible. They each brought their own certain flair to the group, and together as a whole they all had aspects that was going to make this trip work out. Teamwork definitely was key when it came to following and finishing the things that were on the list.

[indent]Looking back out the window and completely and totally through Peter, she took off her glasses, once and for all. Her blue eyes sparkled like the ocean at night, and Brooke couldn't help but smile as she thought about it. She wasn't vain, but she loved her eyes. Her eyes were her favourite body part, and a lot of what Brooke had handed to her in life came from the begging and pleading with her eyes. Sighing a little, she placed her iPod back into her Chanel purse. If she was going to sit beside Peter and spend an entire summer with him, the least she could do was start a conversation. But what was there to talk about? Peter hated talking about her modelling and she hated talking about his whole Presidential conquests. When they were together she was quite fascinated with Peter and everything he had put together in case he'd made it to a Presidential Election and she still was, but she was starting to hear less and less about Peter's personal life. In fact, the two hadn't done much talking or hanging out since they'd broken up, which bugged Brooke. A lot. She still liked Peter. A lot.

[indent]Biting her lip, she quickly pulled her own little pink Notebook out of her bag. On the front of the notebook was a picture with a fire-engine red stiletto and on the inside there was gold cursive writing reading "B.E.S" for Brooke Emily Sawyer. Inside were a lot of famous quotes from famous models she looked up to, such as Tyra Banks and Heidi Klum. If she ever made it big, she knew she was going to request a Victoria's Secret Ad. Hey, maybe that was something she would be able to do when they hit some American state. Right now though, Paris was where it was at. Smiling, she opened it to page 13. 13, her favourite number, had a whole page on things she could say to Peter that didn't revolve around modelling or Politics. Things she could say to him that wouldn't sound idiotic. Scrolling down, she ignored the stupid ones, such as "How is the weather?" or "What about them Yankees?" and smiled, and she pointed her index finger on a question she knew Peter would answer her to.

[indent]Closing her book and placing it back in her bag, Brooke looked at Peter, but not before smiling at Sabriel and nodding to acknowledge her presence. "Peter" she said, her voice clear as day. She hadn't talked to him in a while, and she was nervous her voice would come out as a possible crackle, however so far, she was doing fine. "Are you excited to be travelling to Paris?" she asked, now just using her head instead of the stupid book. She knew he knew how much she loved Paris, and she had a feeling that he was probably well-equipped on information about other countries considering he planned to run one someday. Smiling a little, she let out a relieved sigh, hoping he would answer her without getting either a) awkward or b) hating every little word that came out of her mouth. They were still friends, right?

[indent]Turning back around again, Brooke looked at Sabriel and waved. She noticed the girl was right behind them, and she'd wanted to acknowledge all of their friends at some point or another. Looking out the window, Brooke bit her lip, going into her bag once again. Pulling out her cream Chanel wallet, she lifted her french manicured nails to call for a Stewardess. "Hello, a fresh Chocolate Croissant, please" she smiled, handing the woman her AmEx. The woman gladly took Brooke's card and Brooke couldn't help but smile. She was, after all, on a plane to her favourite place in the world, with her favourite boy in the world, about to eat her favourite dessert in the world. As Brooke sat there, staring out the window in contempt, she was beginning to wonder what exactly could go wrong with this summer. So far? Nothing.

❝Above all, remember that the most important thing you can take anywhere is not a Gucci bag or French-cut jeans; it's an open mind❞

x -outfit

[Schmooples]

τʜϵ 𝖆 𝖗 𝖙 𝖎 𝖘 𝖙 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖑 𝖞 τɑʟ϶ɴτ϶ɗ___________ `•.¸¸✦
Șɑɓяɨҽɭ Αɱσʁ Ғɑȶϊ
....................................

Hope is ⓑⓔⓐⓤⓣⓨ _____
....................................Personified
........( At her feet ) ----☆----- ( the world ) ----☆----- (Hypnotized )


..........................╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════╗

..............................☆ Like a ωнιsρєя she is gone, like when αиɢєℓs fall.. ● ● ●

☆●☆ Artistic. The mere word in itself seemed to hardly sum up the gift this female wielded, her fingers and imagination working as one to produce a work that had the ability to make even the sternest of men stop in wonder. Yet what was art? Dancing to the finest of minstrels? Singing to the largest of crowds? Painting a scene of breathtaking awe? How about carving a statue to immortalize a single person or event? Writing what no one else dares to actually speak? Snapping one single shot of something amazing in a split second? She didn’t hold all the beauty in the world, nor was she exactly all A+ smart. Barley passing math with a D-, science a simple C. English, and government as well as her electives which included art and theatre were the only things she held perfect grades in. Government was slightly out there, yet it was a course she was required to take, not like she had a choice. Despite this notion Sabriel could care less about worthless grades. Hell, college was something she wasn’t worried about. Some may say she held a slightly large ego, but most would say her power of pen and paper would keep her off the streets and pay for more than a nice house. Perhaps it was true, but coming from a family who moved overseas, why not take the opportunity to go to simply major in what she was good at? Sabe’s own little adventure of switching countries was nothing secretive. Coming from Romania, she was raised upon the dark history as well as supernatural stories of Transylvania. From werewolves to the famous Dracula (AKA : Vladimir the Impaler), her imagination was fed ancient tales of folklore passed down her family for generations. She grew up on the countryside, on a nice farmland that most would say was beautiful. That was when she first picked up a paintbrush, and discovered her talent…Although it was rather messy…

It went from beautiful countryside to a city in the matter of a few years later, where in the first grade in America she met her five best friends. Of course, she had to learn English, but she had come a long way since then. Now she spoke it fluently, minus her accent, and she had grown fond of those around her. So fond that in the ninth grade they had made a list of things they wished to do..And now their last summer officially together, they were going to complete it. Re-reading the list before they boarded the plane caused her to wonder what the hell was going through her ever-loving mind. She only had two dreams to fill, the rest of her dream simply wishing to be there with her friends and experience these events with them. But how the hell were they going to do all of this? Walking the runway? How were they going to sneak Brooke into a fashion a show? Knock out a model and have her ‘pretend’? Actually that would be great. What else did they have to do? Oh yes, a face to face photo with a lion. The only sane thing she saw on the list was the painting and the kissing. These thoughts cause her thin lips to peel back in a smile, mind coming back to reality as the plane shook just a tad. Hazel orbs blinked rapidly as she forced her mind back in place, causing herself to glance around lazily. She took her seat on the outside, away from the window, which allowed her easy access to the bathroom or anywhere, just encase. Yawning heavily she brushed a strand of raven hair from her face and peered in front of her at Brooke and Peter, hearing his question. ” Ai răbdare, Peter. We got another hour or so, I think.”

She returned to the back of the seat, looking down at the folding tray before her, and the white paper that held an unfinished image sketched in pencil. 3B Lyra Art Design pencil to be in fact. The picture was that of the plane itself, the view she could see looking out into the aisle. A woman with a sleeping baby, a flight attendant making sure the passengers were comfortable. Drawing something that constantly moved was a pain, but her memory was serving her well since the attendant would occasionally go back to the same position. Gray smudged hands messaged one another as she heard the song leaking from Brooke’s headphones, and her slightly aching body stretched as much as it could, for the fact she had been hunched over drawing for who knew how long did take its toll. Her black clip sat on the corner of the tray, a sigh escaping her lips as she began to re-focus on her work, black converse covered heels lightly tapping the floor as silently as possible, fearful of disturbing someone more than anything. Although she was dubbed as ‘brave’, she still had her own fears..Like that stupid lion. She pictured in now, out on the African plains, her friends with the camera and her sneaking up by a lion, praying she didn’t get mauled first. A chuckle escaped her, and she picked up her pencil, the black strands of hair falling in front of her face. What really set her look, was the nice fitting hip huggers that held holes in the knees as well as dried paint , which simply gave off the vibe of total artist. Her simple olive colored tank top was exposed by the opened black jacket she wore. Nothing fancy, but just comfy and something that did reflect her.

She was no fashion model, but her personality was crystal clear in what she wore, and honestly she adored the looks she grabbed from the bizarre outfit. Yet right now, she was more focused on the picture. Flickering her eyes back to the aisle, she picked up her pencil and leaned forward once more, the sound of soft scratching across a page filling her ears in its own tranquil melody. Her fingers gripped the pencil gently, the shading light, and in some places darker for the shadowing. She considered this a ‘warm-up’ for getting ready to paint the great Notre Dame, the mother of all cathedrals. It’s gothic architecture and stained glass casting various illusionary reflections . She had packed her isle and high quality paint, as well as different sized brushes and canvases. They were all located in her simple bag, or Art Supply bag as she had always called it. The excitement of being able to paint a masterpiece was too heart-pounding to keep still, and her eyes sparkled at looking up at the grand cathedral. Stepping in through the doors and looking up at the high ceiling would simply take her breath away. And the bells. Perhaps adding to the painting, she would sneak to the bell tower and paint the overview of lovely Paris? No doubt she would have time! A shiver ran through her spine and she took a calm breath to ease the happiness, only to sit back and examine her current work once more. Adding to the picture perfect scene of sitting on the bell tower and painting Paris, she imagined that sweet someone beside her. Two came to mind, yet she held a liking to one more than the other, but would dare not say for the mere fact she never paid any true attention to love. She refused to look for it, but would allow it to come to her. In that time she would gladly take it in her hands, as long as her lover would not cage her.

That was something she was terrified of. Being caged, being unable to flap her wings freely and take to the skies of the world of tomorrow. She believed she had gotten down her family’s line, both sides coming from branches of Gypsies, yet now one a school teacher and the other a dance instructor in ballet. It also explained her claustrophobia. And being on a plane, one would think she would be freaking out. Got to love the quality of being ‘brave’. Shifting in her seat the Romanian female moved to the bottom of her paper and signed it in her signature, smiling contently as the sketch was complete. Not something she took complete time on, but it made her feel confident in her soon to be masterpiece. Putting the pencil down, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, hands extending far above her head as she stretched strained muscles from sitting too long. Orbs fluttering back opened she glanced to the side, examining Zander before peeking back between the seats to see if anything was happening between Peter and Brooke. Sadly it felt as though the tension was growing, more of the feeling of awkwardness than anything. Flashing a smile, she returned to the front. ” Primul lucru pe de o parte, eu sînt achiziþie-mi o patiserie dracului ....” She muttered this to no one, and leaned back in her seat with her arms folded. ”So, how’s the weather?” Once again, a question asked to anyone who felt the need to answer to break the silence of plane flight….

тяαиsℓαтισиs
"Be patient, Peter."
"First thing first, I am getting me a ******** pastry."

[dark_grace]

Every single nerve in his body was tingling with anticipation. It was finally happening, he was finally on a plane, getting a chance to live his dreams. Things like this didn't exactly happen to everyone, and that fact that it was happening to him made it more unbelievable. Conner was an adrenaline junkie, and the fact he was on this plane, going to paris, and the rest of the world was pretty much the biggest rush he ever experienced. No parents, no rules, just his five closest friends and him. Conner sat in his seat, jumping slightly as he looked out his window. They were really high in the sky by this point and somewhere over the Atlantic ocean. He couldn't make out anything beside the wings, and a wide span of blue all around. No land in sight. Staring at the little map that was on the TV screen showed there was about six more hours to go until they landed. Conner ripped his gaze away from the window and looked over at Callie, who was sitting beside him. Across the isle was Peter and Brook, and in front of them was Sabe and Zander.

Conner felt bad for Peter, having to be stuck beside your ex wouldn't have been a fun experience, but they were already so late, and it would probably hurt Brook's feelings if he asked to be reassigned to a new seat. Peter was a good guy, and even better friend. Sure his obsession with politics could get very annoying at times, but atleast he had something he was passionate about. Conner was jealous of his friends because they all seemed to have their lives figured out. They knew what they wanted and they were going to accomplish it, but Conner had no clue what he wanted to do with his life. Too bad being an adrenaline junkie wasn't a suitable career path. Come fall he would be going to UCLA, a party school by reputation, but his major was still undecided. He was just planning on taking classes from all different programs and seeing which ones he liked best, if he liked any at all. Education had never been his strong suit. Conner wasn't completely hopeless, he did manage to get into a UC school, but he wasn't sure if higher education would work out from him. He was going to try it out nonetheless. The was the deal he made with his parents. He would go to university, try it out for a year, and if it didn't work it didn't work, but he had to go there and try it out before he gave it up completely.

Conner hoped that things between Peter and Brook weren't too strained. He could hear his friend complaining from here, and he laughed. "Six more hours buddy, hang in there," he said with another laugh. Conner noticed Brook trying to engage Peter in conversation, and for her sake, Conner really hoped that Peter talked to her. Brook had been one his friend friend, and everything at been awesome between the six of them until her and Peter broke up. Things were still good for them as a group, but there were moments of tension. Conner hoped that the distance between them come fall would help them both move on from each other, and maybe even become friends again.

Conner didn't want to intrude on his friends conversation so he instead looked over at Zander and Sabe. He saw a really awesome drawing in front of Sabe and smiled. She was an amazing artist, and he really hoped that she had the chance to paint the Notre Dame this summer. The list originally contained a hundred items, but they had lessened it down to the top twenty instead, giving them a chance at actually completing the list. Conner was really excited about parachuting off the golden gate bridge, and he was going to make all his friends do it as well. He wanted all his friend to do everything on the list, with the exception of some things. For example not all of them could get away with walking on the catwalk, but they would all help Brook get there. Teamwork was heavily required to make everything work out as planned. "The weather in the plane is excellent if you ask me," Conner said with a smile in response to Sabe's random comment.

Conner sighed as he let his head hit the headrest, looking back out the window. He was anxious to get to Paris. It was going to be amazing, but it was six whole hours away. Conner had never been a patient person, he had a hard time waiting for anything. He was the type of guy wanted action going on at all hours. He tapped his fingers against the arm rest, looking around at the people on the plane. He could make out the conversation the elderly couple in front of him were having, but most of it was in french, and his french was weak at best. Callie on the other hand could probably understand them completely. He looked over at his girlfriend, feeling slightly bad for distracting her from whatever she was focusing on. "Are they saying anything interesting?" he asked, indicating to the people in the seat in front of them. It was rude to eavesdrop, and he knew that but he was so freaking bored.

Conner couldn't help but stare at Callie. He knew he probably had a goofy smile on his face, the one liked to make fun of when other guys wore it. Callie was pretty much the best thing to ever happen to him. He had been in love with her since the sixth grade, but never told her, afraid that things between wouldn't work out, and that she would only see him as a friend. Conner loved being her friend, but he knew it would ruin him to hear her acknowledge out loud that that was all they could ever be. They were very different from one another, at times polar opposites, but as the saying goes, opposites attract, and ******** was he attracted.

It hadn't been until the beginning of their senior year that he maned up enough to ask her out. He knew it was his last chance, and that if he didn't ask her now, he would regret it. Conner had prepared himself fully for the rejection he thought he would receive, but instead she said yes. Conner had been determined to make it work between the two of them, and it did. It felt right. He had been out with several girls before her, but he never felt this way about any of them. He still hadn't mustered up the courage to tell her that he loved her, even though he was certain he did. When the summer ended, they would have to part ways, and Conner had no clue how it would continue on after that. He just want to go out and spend as much time as he could with her, and this adventure would certainly atleast cement him in her mind. She couldn't forget him after this. That much he was sure of.

He reached over and pulled one of her hands into his lap, holding it lightly as he gazed around the plane once more. "What do you want to do first when we get there?" he asked her. They would be landing in Paris around seven pm, giving them time to drop off their stuff at the hotel before going out and enjoying the paris nightlife. Maybe they would be able to scratch something off their list. Conner hoped that Brook knew exactly where the fashion show was being held, otherwise they might be in trouble.

[Chaos Spring]

[♫]zxxaxxnxxdxxexxr
the heart screams the music of living
all y o u gotta d o is w h i s p e r the l y r i c s

Zander was finally starting to relax against his seat in the airplane. The boy didn't like airports, no matter how much he liked planes. He swore that all the airports were working against him. First it was his lip rings, then his actual rings, then his car keys, then his guitar! They actually forced him- forced was not being used lightly here, Sabriel and Conner having to drag a furious Zander away from a smug worker as Peter put on his diplomatic please-forgive-him speech. Zander loved his friends dearly, they were his life, even above his music, but sometimes he wished there weren't so many of them. Screw fiddle contests, Zander was about to get into a guitar battle with this devil in a smock! Needless to say after that incident, Zander was switched seats with his lovely friend Sabriel, as far away from the people who worked here. Not that he complained, Zander liked the quiet sureness of the foreign girl.

About one hour left in the flight and Zander was finally starting to zone. His ukulele was at his feet, keeping his knee from touching Sab's, for there was no way the brunette was going to give up his only instrument. The thing was very old and had drawings on it from the time his best friends bought it for him and drew their own little pictures on it. From Sabriel's beautiful portrait of Zander to Conner's less than wonderful picture of a skateboard. He loved it dearly. A little green iPod- the old version- sat in his lap with only one earphone in. He mouthed the words, glancing every now and then at Sabriel's drawing of some woman. To his left him was the beautiful Brooke and her- Zander made a face, odd on his almost girly face- Peter. Zander loved Peter but his heart always tripped itself up when he saw Brooke. To his right was Sabriel, a quiet girl with a free-ness that would push any detention teacher to their knees. Conner and Marjorie were in front of him.

The child in Zane loved this. Although these five has been his best friends since, well, ever and he planned on keeping them in his life, even if he had to tied them down with his very guitar strings. But high school had pushed them apart a bit. As he figured it would. They all had different interests and talents, different dislikes and likes and the school had used that. For many years, Zander had been apart of that table, the mix-matched one with people who belongs in certain cliques. Finally they had made it out of the school, together by the skin of their teeth. Even now, they were on a plane to Paris, Paris with each other to finish their bucket list. A big smile snuck its way onto Zander's willing lips. He had had to scramble to make up the money for this trip but he was so happy he did it. He was squirming in his seat with excitement, making the flight attendant glare at him.

He was drawn out of his giddyness by Peter- Danny- finally deciding he would talk to his friends and not the little politicians in his head. Zander chuckled quietly at that. That was certainly something Peter should write in his journal. Really, the guitarist had no idea how long the flight lasted. Although he was far from dumb, Zander had a spaced out quality to him. He rarely knew what time it was and where he was going, all he felt he needed to know is that he was going, there was going to be music and his five best friends would be there to hold his hand if things went wrong. Zander made a face. Not he would reach for his friend's hands in that situation, had to be manly and secretive like all musicians out there. Like there would be in Venice. He was extremely apprehensive about playing in Venice. While he loved playing music for new people- and old people as he fondly remembered playing the guitar in front of his friends- when he wrote that down in crazy blue crayola, he didn't even know what Venice was!

Now he's off to France to play for Venice. He didn't even speak...Venicese. Whatever they spoke there. How would they understand his song. But Zander wasn't the type to worry, with a playful twinkle in his eyes, he turned to Sabriel. "How's the weather Sabby? You're on a plane with some very attractive friends of yours flying to Paris! Possibly to do something illegal! And you're asking how the weather is? Gosh, live a little, girl. Get out of your world of ink and join us in the air!" he said, leaning playfully on her shoulders and matching her hazel eyes with his russet brown ones. A large goofy splashed across his face and he leaned away from her before she could smack him over the head with her book. She said something in her language, her accent that he couldn't place making his ears perk up. Now Zander didn't speak much other languages. Spanish he could do, Japanese he could survive in, the brunette could even say 'I love you' and 'thank you' in sign language! But he did understand one word of the girl's language. Pastry.

The thin guitarist's stomach growled at Brooke's order and he yanked off his seatbelt, looking at his friend with big, puppy brown eyes. "Brooke?" he drawled out her name with the tone of a child asking for something he wasn't sure he'd get. "You know I love chocolate croissants right? You know you should get me one." That wasn't entirely a lie. He did love chocolate croissants but he loved everything sweet and edible. If it was bad for his pearly whites, Zander probably adored it. He glanced at Sabriel with a playful look in his eyes. Everyone knew Zander's sweet tooth, and its huge part in Zander's life, and that Brooke was no exception. The girl would probably give him a raisin.

Zander was sure he had ADHD, pretty sure he did anyways. He was always moving and his guitar twanged against Sabriel's leg. "Peter, lovely Danny, how are we planning on getting our fair Brooke onto that runway? Is it a girl's only? Are we all going? 'cause we all know Conner's hot body will make those girls swoon." he said playfully, winking at his respective friends. Truthfully he was a bit nervous about this whole trip, this was going to be his last huge thing with his friends. He was going to miss them dearly and he didn't quite know how to live without them. He sighed, super excited but trying to hide it. One too many glares from the flight attendant. He played with the neck of his guitar, allowing it to twang quietly. The sound, one note calmed his nerves and quieted the loud chatterbox in him. He lay his head back and stared at the roof. One hour. Less than that. Maybe 58 minutes, 30 seconds? He started counting down in his mind, twanging a string with every minute or so.



++++++++++++++++

[yelllow dancing shoes]

i wanna publish zines and rage against machines
i wanna pierce my tongue it doesn't hurt, it feels fine
the trivial sublime i'd like to turn off time
and kill my mind you kill my mind


Was he excited? Sort of. All other emotions were shoved out of his mind and were replaced with fear when he was on the plane so he wasn't really sure if he was or not. "I guess so, Brooke." Peter said her name carefully so it wouldn't come out as a snarl. He was doing a pretty good job at being nice today. "A study of the Parisian governmental system wouldn't hurt anything," he said with a shrug. He was just about to go into a spiel about how the French Revolution influenced current French domestic politics when he realized that Brooke probably wouldn't be interested in it. Maybe he should learn about Marc Jacobs or Louis Vuitton so he wouldn't bore her every time he opened his mouth.

One thing he knew for sure: He couldn't let on that he had been the one to write skinny dipping in France. That was definitely blackmail material. Especially if pictures were involved. And there would be no pictures. He loved his friends but he was willing to murder to make sure there was no evidence. Honestly, even though nothing horrifying had happened between him and Brooke so far during the flight, he kinda wished he was sitting next to Sabriel. She was always drawing something interesting and maybe she could teach him Romanian. That would give him a leg-up in grad school applications. And yes, he had not started college yet and he was already thinking about graduate school.

He perked up at Zander's question, realizing his chance to problem solve and get his mind off of the fact they were in a huge metal coffin suspended thousands of miles above the earth for the next hour or so. Or rather above the ocean now. "If we get a few clipboards, some headsets and some garment bags maybe we can pass as people who work there. We could head towards the back where the models go through and pretend we're interns for someone. And if they won't let us in someone can create a distraction while the other person slips in with Brooke." He scribbled it all down in his notebook as he said it, "I'm sure its chaos back there so no one will think twice about a tall blonde walking around. Besides, models get delayed and the designers freak out so they'll probably think Brooke is a replacement." He needed a blueprint of the area where the shows were and a list of all of the designers and the schedules for the shows. When was the show? How much time did they have? Was this even possible? Peter Graves could make the impossible possible, that was for sure. Oh yes, this was going to be a fun trip after all.

"There is the problem of how we are going to get in to see her walk," he muttered as he tapped his pen on his chin and frowned down at his notebook. He wasn't going to say that he didn't know, not out loud anyway, but he had no clue. This was turning out to be kinda complicated and would require them all to dress up and they'd have to do some extremely good lying since getting just one person in was hard enough but six was bordering on crazy. Not to mention they couldn't screw up. He wasn't sure they would get sent to jail but the consequences were probably less than desirable. What if Brooke was banned from shows? Then she'd never be a model, not like that was a good choice in the first place, but it would be bad to ruin her chances completely.

talking
thinking

[karma b a r b i e]

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxmarjorie callie sommers

number one on my list is to live.

Her mind was cluttered. She didn't know whether to be excited or calm. She couldn't handle both at the time. She sighed and nibbled on her bottom lip. Every single muscle in her body had relaxed when she sat down in the seat. She stared down at the notebook that was laying on her lap. She promised her parents and her friends that she wouldn't be doing any Summer work, but how could she resist. She stared down at the words on the notebook. They seemed so unfamiliar. She was out of highschool now. She didn't need to do work. She didn't need to do anything actually. All she wanted to do was enjoy the world with her friends by her side. Her boyfriend too. Marjorie suddenly remembered where she was. She turned and stared at Conner. He was glued to the window. She sighed, and looked down the aisle. She wanted to be on her cell phone. She wanted to check her email to see if her roommate for Brown mailed her back. Sighing softly, Marjorie nibbled on her bottom lip. Her legs started to ache and so did her back. She ran her hands over her bare legs, and smiled. She did look good in shorts.

Marjorie took time to remember all of her wishes. She of course wouldn't be having them on her own, she would have to share them with some friends. It made her a bit mad that she would have to share her dreams, but if she was with her buddies, it was fine. She stared at the row, and looked over at Peter and Brook. Oh, she felt sorry for Brook. She had to sit beside Peter all the way to their destination. But on the other hand, Peter probably was dying for embarrassment. She never actually knew who broke up with who, but she of course knew that they were finished. It was such a shame. They didn't even last till the graduation. Her eyeballs wandered over to Zander and Sabe. They were so cute. Sabe was artistic, beautiful and a free spirit. It was odd how they got along, Callie being a uptight school girl, and Sabe being so free and lively. She wondered why Conner never dated her. Pushing the thought from her head, she smiled and stared at Zander. He was a guitarist. A cute one at that. They were the perfect couple. Artist and a guitar player. Really, that doesn't bring a smile to your face just saying it. But no relationship was as good as Callie and Conner's. Blushing at the thought, she put her hand over her cheeks. She loved him.

Their relationship couldn't be put on hold. Peter was going to UCLA, she on the other hand was going to Westmont College. It might have been stalking but she wanted to be close to Conner. He was the first boyfriend she had ever had that actually was different. Callie dated nerds mostly because of their level of knowledge. It put a dent in her social life, so she stopped dating when she became a Junior. That was until she met Conner. He was perfect. He was so different, and didn't care about her grades. No studying, no libraries, and no I.Q. battles. Callie remembered the first time they ever kissed, it was their third date. Conner walked Callie to her front door, and it just happened. The funny thing is that, she kissed him first. It was a surprise to herself, and him. After the kiss, she rushed into the house. From then on, she had kissed him every day she saw him. Each date, no matter what. Callie loved his lips. He was the perfect boyfriend. She couldn't describe him as anything less. "Perfect." She listened to his voice, and turned to face him. She stopped biting on her bottom lip, and smiled.

"What, huh?" Callie wasn't really listening, but she of course never listened. She smiled, and looked at him. When he pulled her hand into his lap, she smiled. She looked over at the people in front of them, and laughed. She nudged his softly, and grinned. "I'm not nosy." She chuckled softly. Of course, she was nosy. She loved to hear what people were talking about. She was just self conscience that way. "Are you fine?" She asked, with a soft playful smile that stretched across her lip gloss stained lips. She felt ridiculous with make up on. She looked over as a flight attendant passed. She stretched her hand out, grabbing a napkin off of the cart she was pushing. "Thanks." She said, and wiped her lips. She let her hand remove from Conner's. She balled up the tissue, and stuck it between her thighs. She toss it in the garbage when they landed. She loved the earth, she would do anything to preserve it. She looked at his lonely hand, and smiled. She let her hand, once again slither into it. Lacing their fingers together, she chuckled. "Hm, that's hard...I want to eat a frog." She laughed. She quickly bit on her bottom lip, as she felt her cheeks grow hot. "Cooked of course." She smiled. "What about you?" She asked, letting her hand turn his over. She drew a heart on the back of his hand, and smiled.

When she heard Zander speaking of her boyfriend and the girls falling all ''ga-ga'' over him, she laughed. "That is of course, if they want to fight me for him." She joked softly. She looked over at Zander and then at Peter when he spoke. He was always thinking of some plan for something. She chuckled at the boys thoughts. "You two are going to get us kicked out of Paris." She laughed. She shook her head at the two, and then smiled over at Brook. "If we do get to see your walk, I'm sure you'll do excellent." She smiled gently. Marjorie really didn't care for fashion. Whatever was in her closet, she threw it on. Perhaps her outfit, could be taken for example. She wanted to look good for the first trip to Paris she would ever take. She just threw something on, and walked out. It was a good look for her. She knew that of course. She had gotten compliments from Conner on it earlier. A boy's thoughts on a girl's outfit usually made girls cry or feel mad. Callie honestly didn't care. It made no sense to go crazy over the perfect dress or shoes. But hey, like what you want. Books were her idea of fun.

"Can't wait till we land." Callie spoke. She looked at Conner, desperately wanting to be sitting closer. The only thing keeping them from being close was the stinking arm rest. She continued to let her hand sink into his, as they sat in the seats. She looked as a attendant passed by. She looked at the lady, and smiled. "Can I please get some orange juice." Callie said. As the woman nodded, she riffled threw her shorts pockets, and smiled when she pulled out a five dollar bill. Sighing softly, she lifted her head up to stare at the ceiling. Gah, when would they land.

miss honor roll babes.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
xoxoxoxoxo

out of crayons : sorry it took so long and is short. i fail.

[laceandlouboutins]

████ Bяσσkε ||♥|| εmiℓy ████

miss model in training

❝Above all, remember that the most important thing you can take anywhere is not a Gucci bag or French-cut jeans; it's an open mind❞

███████████████████████████████ █ █ █ █ █

[indent] It felt like Brooke had been waiting forever for her Chocolate Croissant, but then again, the girl wasn’t exactly good with waiting or being patient. She knew this would ruin her chances of becoming a model if she let it, but a) she was dedicated and b) she knew by the time she’d made it to being a high class model her patience would skyrocket. But right now, her patience level was definitely minimal. Looking down at her silver Rolex watch, she realized it had only been ten minutes since she’d requested the croissant from the Stewardess. Brooke figured her gorgeous tall and thin frame, blonde locks, ocean blue eyes and wonderful sense of style had attracted the young Stewardess, and conned her into thinking she was a model. She figured the Stewardess was yelling at one of the Chefs or whatever and whoever cooked and baked on the plane to make her the freshest, warmest Chocolate Croissant known to man. With a smirk, she twirled her hair a little, getting quite caught up in her fantasy.

[indent]Only a few minutes later, her fantasy was shattered as she heard Zander’s overly happy voice coming from beside her. She smiled at him and shook her head a little, noticing how crazy excited he was to be talking to her. But then again, crazy excited was the way Zander always acted around everyone, so Brooke didn’t exactly take it to heart that she was the only one who made this boy hyper as a kitten with a lollipop. Smiling a little, she thought about her white Himalayan kitten back home, Pancake. She loved Pancake to death, and he looked exactly like those cute kittens plastered all over the Cottonelle toilet paper. Giggling a little, she looked at her watch again. Fifteen minutes since she had asked for her Croissant. Brooke was clearly not impressed with this service. Knitting a brow, she looked back at Zander and laughed quietly. “See, I would order you one, but the Stewardess who went off for mine has been gone for fifteen minutes, and I know your bottomless pit is probably begging you for food”. Taking one of the little Cracker Jack packages out of her little Airline Food Kit her Mother had made her, she handed it to Zander, and smiled nodding a little, encouraging him to eat it before turning back around to Peter. She smiled tight-lipped when she noticed his voice seemed a little bit strained. Everything had been so off between the two since they had broken up. Brooke knew she would always love him, but she was pretty sure Peter had moved on. A lot of the time he ignored her phone calls and whenever she brought up the subject of them it was immediately changed into something else. Sure, Brooke and Peter were still friends, but there was always going to be that awkwardness between them now, and Brooke hated it.

[indent]She smiled a little and couldn’t help but laugh when Peter mentioned about how he wanted to study the Parisian Governmental system. Brooke knew Peter all too well. She figured he would want to spend a lot of time here studying the Politics, while she spent her time shopping in Boutiques all over the city and walking along the roads of France, trying to avoid her heels getting caught in the grates. Brooke had heard somewhere that the leading cause of death for women in heels was falling through grates. Sure, it probably wasn’t possible, but then again, the trip and fall could break a leg or an ankle, and if you landed on a grate the wrong way, you were caput. Shivering a little, Brooke decided to focus on other things. She loved her heels, but she knew exactly where to walk in France so she could narrowly escape the grates. Or at least she’d read in one of her Complete Etiquette for Models books. Smiling at Peter again, Brooke nodded and tried to think of what to say. When they were together, they always talked about his Politics and her Modelling choices, but eventually that got old and they both began to grow tired of each others strong ambitions. Brooke knew it was probably because they were both so strong-willed and headed in two completely different directions. That could be spoken about both their career choices and their relationships. But it didn’t matter. Brooke still loved Peter, and she knew he was the one for her. If only he knew it as well.

[indent]Finally taking off her glasses, Brooke looked over at Zander again who was asking Peter how exactly they were going to get her on the Runway. Her heart was beating fast and her head was swimming. Brooke knew this wasn’t going to be an easy task and she could possibly be stuck in a European Jail for the rest of her life. But her friends were behind her doing this with her, and as the old saying went, “best friends laugh about it together in Jail”. Besides, Peter was way too smart and strategic for them to get caught, which was another thing she loved about him. Propping her elbows up on the arm rest, she looked at Peter as he described the whole thing word per word. What he was saying was pretty smart, and Brooke knew it could and would actually work. Smiling, she tossed her hair and applied some pink gloss onto her pouty lips. She was excited. She was a small town girl who would soon be illegally walking the runway at Paris Fashion Week in front of hundreds of famous designers and celebrities. She wasn’t thinking about the consequences really, more or less just the thrill of being up on that stage and showing everyone exactly what she could do. Maybe if Peter saw her up there doing her thing, he wouldn’t look down on her modeling choices anymore. But then again, if she saw him doing some Debate she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to overlook the fact that he was so apt on leading a life of Politics and Presidency. However becoming First Lady would have been a wonderful thing, because Brooke did have many intelligent things to say, surprisingly, outside of modeling.

[indent]Biting her lip, she awaited her Croissant as she looked at Peter, Zane and the rest of her friends. She was starting to feel nervous and dreading the consequences. Her stomach was swimming with little nerve piranha’s that were eager to bite at and inflict poisonous thoughts into her head at any minute. She knew if she got caught she would be rejected from the dream school she had already applied at and made it into. Come Fall, Brooke would be attending “Parsons The New School For Design”, which was a Fashion College located in New York. Brooke loved everything about New York. The city lights, Times Square, Central Park and the busy streets at night and during the day. She couldn’t wait to escape there as soon as she’d finished High School. Both Donna Karan and Proenza Schouler attended Parsons and they were world wide designers. Not only did Brooke want to model, but she wanted to design. In reality, her designs were amazing. She made dresses that were Marchesa with a hint of Vera Wang, jeans that were True Religion with a hint of L.A.M.B, t-shirts that screamed Ed Hardy, but a lot less tacky with a lot less “bling” and with more appeal then Jon Gosselin. In fact, Brooke had a dress with her in her trusty luggage bag that held a dress she’d created. A dress she was going to wear tonight when she walked the Fashion runway. Or more or less owned it. With a smirk, she thought about how good she would look and how designers and reporters would approach her from every which angle asking her who the dress was by. As soon as Brooke told them who it was made by, they would search her clothing line, “Eve’s Disaster”, and check out all of the clothing she had designed herself. Once they saw that Brooke was attending Parsons in the Fall, all would be forgiven and they would come begging to her, asking her if she could design dresses for Red Carpet Events and Fashion Shows all over the world.

[indent]“…Excuse me? Miss?” A female voice interrupted her thoughts and desires and Brooke looked up. On a plate was a nice warm looking Chocolate Croissant. The woman’s face was flustered, like she had been working hard, and when Brooke bit into the scrumptious Croissant it was indeed warm and luxurious. Looking at her friends and daintily licking the warm chocolate sauce off of her fingers, Brooke smiled, thinking about how exciting it was going to be walking during Paris Fashion Week. With a smile and another bite of her Croissant, Brooke looked at Peter as he pondered how exactly they would get in to see her walk. Placing her Croissant on her plate, Brooke moved some hair out of her face and winked at her ex-boyfriend. “We’ll find a way” she said, thinking about how the six of them always managed to find a way to get things done. Rarely did they get in trouble with their strategic planning as each of them were smart in different areas. No matter what they were doing, one would help the other out of a sticky situation, and it was going to be no different this summer, their last summer together, as they travelled around the world and completed their missions. “We always do.” Nibbling her Croissant, Brooke looked out the window and a smile formed across her lips. She knew that this was going to be the most dangerous, exciting, amazing, crazy and wonderful summer yet. And she couldn’t wait to begin the fun.

❝Above all, remember that the most important thing you can take anywhere is not a Gucci bag or French-cut jeans; it's an open mind❞

x -outfit

[Schmooples]

τʜϵ 𝖆 𝖗 𝖙 𝖎 𝖘 𝖙 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖑 𝖞 τɑʟ϶ɴτ϶ɗ___________ `•.¸¸✦
Șɑɓяɨҽɭ Αɱσʁ Ғɑȶϊ
....................................

Hope is ⓑⓔⓐⓤⓣⓨ _____
....................................Personified
........( At her feet ) ----☆----- ( the world ) ----☆----- (Hypnotized )


..........................╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════╗

..............................☆ Like a ωнιsρєя she is gone, like when αиɢєℓs fall.. ● ● ●

☆●☆ Zander fidgeted lightly in his seat, between his legs his gift from years back. Looking at the pictures, a smile adorned her face as she remembered drawing that portrait of him. She had wanted it perfect, and now looking back at it she saw all the flaws she had made. Boy was she proud of it when she placed it on the instrument. He seemed much calmer than earlier, when the airport worker took Zander's guitar away. Helping drag him away with Conner was something she didn't wish to do again, but it was an interesting way to start this lively vacation. She had volunteered to be the barrier between him and those who worked, yet secretly she wouldn't have minded seeing a fight, for the fact they made her take all her art supplies out was rather an unnecessary gesture. Orbs darted towards Conner, his hands having found their way to Callie's. She always believed love could conquer all, if it was even strong enough that is. She, herself, never believed that fully into it, for she had never exactly allowed herself to have a boyfriend..Yet anyway. Being held down...Not on the top of her list at that moment and time. Yet, the fondness she still had for the one who sat by her was there, and the pinch of someone else. His voice soon broke her thoughts, and she couldn't laugh at his reply to her question. She looked back down at her work before sighing heavily, and suddenly feel a head on her shoulder. Peering down at the most adorable face, Sabriel gave a side-ways smirk, closing her sketchbook and slowly placing it in her hands. ”Live a little? What do you think I'm doing before I walk off this plane?” For all she knew, she was going to die when it came to some of the things they were going to be doing. Removing her slender hand from the book the female glanced towards the woman she drew, who delivered Brooke her little snack as well as Callie's. The woman paused though, Sabriel ordering a small tray of Vanilla and Chocolate puffs before she walked away. Glancing up at Zander she watched as he begged for something sweet, in which with Brooke's kind of money, she could possibly buy everything on the plane if she wanted. There was no doubt in Sabriel's mind that the blond had all the makings of a great model, located in magazines and on billboards and who knew what else.

The question of how they were going to get her into the Fashion show, was what they were focused on first. Obviously they did need a plan..A big one, and without getting in some serious trouble. Going back to the list, she remembered seeing something about Nascar and robbing a bank...Maybe trouble was unavoidable? Turning to look at Peter as he elaborated some massive scheme, the Romanian listened and glanced at the attendant who placed the order on the try, on top of her closed sketchbook. Smelling the sweet aroma, the female picked a soft and gooey chocolate puff up, placing it to her lips as the syrup pressed against her soft skin. It was way too good! She sank her teeth into the nectar, sugar filling her mouth and the morsel being chewed slowly before inching its way down her throat. Crumbs fell on her clothing, which she wiped to the floor and looked back at Peter. So they needed a distraction, someone to sneak in with Brooke, and...Somehow sneak everyone else in. The female smiled and gave her signature smirk. ”Hmm…Me, Brooke, and Callie Girl can go backstage, and I can distract the security. I’m thinking that by distracting the security from the back, it would also arouse those from the front, no? If so, they will also come after me, allowing a side entrance or something to possibly be open, and you handsome young men to sneak in.” She gave a shrug and shoved the rest of the puff in her mouth, watching the look on Brooke’s face as she bit into her own tasty treat. The poor stewardess probably slaved over that little snack, and Brooke loved it. Of course, she was used to fine dining and such, so it was no surprise. Yet the model’s words to Peter were slightly an eyebrow raiser. Flirting or just a nice comment? Sabriel cooed over the possibilities before stretching and conjuring up fantasies of her own…Such as her painting. Where would she do it? What angle? Time of day? Should she do one of the building and one from the bell tower? Or should she find a spot on the Notre Dame where it looks down at the building with a view over Paris? Now that sounded dangerous..And yet inspiring. How could one settle for a normal painting, when you could make it different? Painting could be a one person deal, and perhaps since she won’t be able to get in thanks to being a distraction, she could set up at the Notre Dame and that be their meeting point? No..She felt as if she needed to be there for Brooke. There would always be a way for her to sneak in.

How about changing clothes herself and then sneaking in? Of course, she still had all night to think about it. They would arrive in wonderful Paris at seven, so they were all going to enjoy the nightlife. Maybe she could even walk around and get an early peek at the great Cathedral? If peter ever became president she was going to make sure he would let her design her own structure, or let her own the very Notre Dame once he became dictator. But, she was still happy doing artwork for the covers of Zander’s albums once he became famous. The poor lad had to settle for saltine crackers Brooke had handed him, and it was more than comical. Sliding her tray of puffs over, she smiled. ”You can have some of mine, frumos.” Getting comfy once more she stretched and crossed her legs. ”So, Peter. What are you going to do while in France? Enjoy the sights? Visit some political buildings? Visit a museum? ” That would be another nice side-trip as well, but she would rather wait for that as well. Her mind was still locked on the Gothic building, and how her painting was going to be. She had it planned in her mind, where she will set up and what time of day. Early morning or sunset? The building tinged in a golden hue with the soft colors of the sun’s rays dancing upon fluffy clouds and shining on the buildings and people far, far below. The sensation of the thought sent another shiver down her spine, and she grabbed another chocolate puff and began eating joyfully. ” Superba de frumusete, in compania unor prieteni, in lume la picioarele noastre! ” She stuffed the last bit in her mouth before throwing her hands in the air, allowing her accent to ring through the plane, ignoring who heard. ”WE’RE GOING TO FINALLY LIVE! … And possibly do things we wouldn’t have thought of such as losing virginity and breaking the law…” The last part was only for the ears that were around her, for everything had gotten slightly quiet after she had yelled. Smiling brightly she lowered her hands and took a deep breath, a few strangers laughing while others muttered. Not like she cared. Hell, Sabe never cared about what others thought of her, weird or not. Of course, being the odd ball of the group she was certaintly prone to attention…Not the beautiful looks like Brooke, or the smarts such as Callie. Just..Being herself.

But one thing was sure. She was sleepy. She moved the rest of the puffs to the side, looking over at the cute Zander before reaching over and ruffling his hair playfully. Oh his blond hair was soft, and his own brown eyes were something to die for. Then again, the man behind them in his knowledge of politics wasn’t bad either. He had a goofy little look about him, one that she often pointed out while joking. Laying her head on the foldable tray she awaited for more speaking. She wasn’t going to go to sleep, but this was comfier than sitting up. He image of their hotel waiting for them was something she couldn’t wait to see in person either. She could care less who she was rooming with, or any of the sort. Boy girl, girl girl, boy boy. What she wanted was that bed. Large and soft, and her slender body wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and sheets. Fair orbs closed with a soft smile on her lips, arms folding across her chest as the daydream took her for a small while.

тяαиsℓαтισиs
"handsome."
"The magnificent beauty, the company of friends, the world at our feet!"

[Chaos Spring]

[♫]zxxaxxnxxdxxexxr
the heart screams the music of living
all y o u gotta d o is w h i s p e r the l y r i c s

Something Zander could never get about his friends was how relaxed they could be. It completely escaped him how they could be living in a world like this, on a plane to one of the most sought after cities in the world and he seemed to be the only one about to jump out and run to Paris. The stuffy air of the plane made it hard for him to calm down, virtually forcing the boy to relax slightly but he couldn't help it! Zander was driven forward in his excitement by small things, like the pleasure of the chocolate on Sabriel's tongue, or the smell of Brooke's perfume even the quiet detachment of Conner and Marjorie excited him. He thought about a while ago, when Conner was still single and would be jumping around just like Zander. Now the brunette boy didn't mind Marjorie's relationship with him at all, in fact Marjorie's brilliant mind helped him through many a badly studied test but sometimes he felt a bit lonely. Single in his life and single in his attitude.

Zander shook the thought out of his head. He was alone relationship wise, but what really was a relationship? Hugs and kisses and stress and someone to lay down with and someone who always picked up the phone and...Zander had to cut that thought off too. Unconsciously though his eyes strayed to beautiful, blond Brooke. He was pretty sure she knew, on some level, his interest in her. Just as he knew, on some level, that Sabriel held him in her eyes as more than a friend. His heart thumped once, hard as he thought about the two girls. Both knew everything about him, from his favorite color to his favorite singer- green and Nevershoutnever although he'd never admit it. These two were his best friends. Could he really stand to be alone rather than to risk losing them? Zane couldn't picture life with only three friends, he needed all five to function normally. Even if other didn't see that as functioning at all. Zane smiled a bit to himself. At some level all of the friends knew their places, where they stood. It wasn't a problem that would need to be dealt with right now, on this plane. Not now, maybe in Paris? Or Venice.

Zane grinned a bit at Peter's perkiness to be helpful, the boy loved being the problem solver of this group of five. He was definitely the man-Velma of this Mystery Gang. Zander would probably be a brave Scooby-Doo, the comic relief that no one had to worry about. He smirked a bit at Peter's answer, staying quiet through his speech. Zane learned his lesson once already about the consequences of interrupting Peter when he was on a roll. His russet brown eyes strayed to Brooke against his will and he studied her. She was tall and beautiful, welcomed people's awed stares with gentle smiles. If there was ever anyone born to be a model, it was Brooke. She oozed model status. If not breaking-the-law-status at all. A wicked smile played across his face as he leaned across the aisle, and playfully gripped Peter's hand. His lightly tanned face allowed a touch of pink to dance along his cheeks as his head leaned gently on Brooke's shoulder. He didn't know if the blush was because of Brooke herself or just about being so close to a girl's breast- Zander wasn't a virgin but he wasn't a fan of getting a hard-on on an airplane- but he quickly hid it with a larger grin. "I know how we could see her Danny, ol' pal. It involves us all being a bit of model-status" he whispered, as if the entire row couldn't hear him. Hey, for all they know, he was talking about a play!

Just as he was leaning back into his row, besides Sabriel- who smell more like an intoxicating mix of candle wax, scented paint and soap- Marjorie laughed her gentle, twinkling laugh.. If Zander's smile got any bigger, his eyes would disappear. Not that it took a lot to make the talented guitarist smile, he was always happy about something, no one like his friends could make him laugh so hard he was bawling. He rolled his eyes playfully, fussing up Conner's blond hair. "Now, now Marjorie, I was imply telling a joke! Really you are the only one who couldn't ever want Conner ol' boy!" he laughed and ducked away quickly, pulling Sabriel as in front of him as her seat belt would allow. They hadn't put the arm rest down and he didn't mind. Somewhere between there and here, he had fallen asleep and Sabriel had been a willing pillow. Now she was an unwilling shield! He peeked over Sabriel's black covered shoulder, around her soft black hair to challenge Marjorie again. "Kicked out of Paris? You mean like international criminals?!" Zander said it as though it was anything but. The naive guitarist would happily go to jail with his best friends. After all, a good friend bails you out of a jail while a best friend sits there with you.

Brooke's amused voice brought Zander's russet eyes to her and he grinned at her comment. See? They did know everything there was to know about Zander August McClain. The boy was always hungry. He rarely admitted it but he was slowly driving himself towards insomnia, always staying up writing one more lyric, playing that song one more time. His body made up for lack of sleep with a surplus of food, although it was quite hard to hide those dark circles under his usually bright eyes. The guitarist happily took Brooke's offering and tore into the food like it was the last meal he'd ever eat. His bright eyes dimmed at bit when he saw Brooke fold into herself at Peter's coldness but Zane loved them all equally. He didn't understand why Peter had broken up with Brooke and he didn't know why beautiful Brooke just didn't move on, but there was something there, something raw and the boy knew to keep his space. He gave Brooke an encouraging smile that could make one of those hang-in-there! kitten posters look bad.

Zander's russet eyes matched Sabriel's again in a playful challenge. "And I'm more than happy to be one of the ones living your life with Sabby!" he said, not noticing the meaning behind his words. Zane was very smart but he had a small problem of his mouth moving much faster than his brain could comprehend. The smell of chocolate forced Zander to tear himself from Sabriel's hazel eyes and onto her food. Silently he followed the chocolate treat up to her lips- bringing another light blush to his face- and he leaned close to her, taking in the smell of Sabriel mixed with chocolate. Zander McClain was ready to put the beg on for some of that grub. Luckily the artistic girl read his mind, sliding the gooey treats over to him. The young guitarist tried his best to not attack them, leaving a good handful for his friend. He watched her as she moved, like an artist was painting her every movement. Although Brooke was by the far the most socially graceful, Sabriel had a quieter grace to her. Almost hidden but still clear to someone who was willing to look. After nights of spending with the girl, her drawing him beautiful album covers with everything from cartoon dinosaurs to bleeding hearts, he started looking. His face inflamed again, slightly when Sabriel brought up sex but he turned towards the window again, waiting to see something other than a large expanse of clouds. And to his immense pleasure, he did. A tiny, bright black city was starting to peak through the clouds! With a cheer that startled snoozing Sabriel, he prepared to tell the good news! Unfortunately he was rudely interrupted. "Uh...Hello Passengers this is your um...pilot speaking. Please put up your tray tables and fasten your seatbelt. We are...uh...making a descent now. Flight attendants take your seats..." Zander lay his head playfully on Sabriel's shoulder, looking up into her eyes. She did have stunning eyes after all. "Now what was that you said about living with me Sabby?" he said with strongly reigned in excitement. Once again the ditzy, adorable guitarist did not get the meanings behind his words.



++++++++++++++++