' stomp out this disaster town ;; BROOKLYN

[Audrey Monroe]

The stage was perhaps the biggest thing, well unless you counted the huge space taken up by the row upon row of seats. She'd watched a few plays here, the kids weren't half bad. Yet that had been the only reason she had even come in here. To see the plays, never to actually participate or just study. This was really her first real time being in this part of the school. Not that it mattered much or anything. A smile danced upon her pale features. Making her face light up slightly. She moved down the aisle, looking for a good row, there were tons of them and yet she moved to row number thirteen. Yes she counted to row thirteen and seat number twenty seven. Why? Good question. The girl had a thing for those numbers. She liked them. They were interesting. But who sits around talking about numbers? What's in a number anyway? Nothing really, it's just a number, is it not? She shook her head mechanically, clearing it. She had issues. She laughed at herself, the sound echoing. She had the urge to yell, just to hear it, but decided against it. She made her way to seat number twenty seven, odd yes, but it was whatever. Who really cared? Not her, and obviously no one else, seeing as the room, as far as she could tell, was deserted, just like the halls.

Audey Darcy Monroe sat in one of the many seats that surrounded the theatre. She held a spiral on her knees, and a pen in her hand. She tapped the pen against the pad of paper, her eyes wandering. She had come in here meaning to catch up on some work, yet all thoughts of work disappeared and she was left to just sit there completely bored out of her mind. The pen tapped the paper in a slow rhythm. The tempo increased and decreased as she willed it to. Yet nothing ever really changed. Her feet rested at the top of the seat in front of her, which is why her spiral was able to be held on her knees. She hit the spiral one last time before she stopped. Audrey stood, holding the pad and pen in one hand. Her free hand ran through her hair, pushing it from her eyes. A small smile touched her lips as she walked out of the row. Slowly she made her way down, towards the stage. The girl was not one for acting, she wasn't really all that great when it came to plays, but she had her share of acting experience. After all she did it just about every day. Acting, pretending, whichever term you preferred to use. She stopped at the stage, sure she could use the steps, but honestly, what was the fun in that. She set the spiral down and turned so that her back was to the stage. And then within the next second she jumped, using the stage as support and landed sitting on the stage. It wasn't too far off the ground so it wasn't impossible to make happen. She was just good like that.

Audrey bit down on her bottom lip, an old habit she had, and one she figured wouldn't go away. After all old habits die hard. She sighed, looking around the spacious room. Nothing at all was familiar to her. Sure she'd come in here maybe two times in the past time she's been at this school, but that was it. Even then it had been dark, and she hadn't paid much attention to anything. She had the time now, to actually see it. She stood. Pushing herself up so that she could walk around the stage. Her eyes moved to all parts of the theatre, she examined everything. So this is what they saw when they performed, all those actors//actresses. Wasn't that just lovely. Hundreds maybe even thousands of people watching them. Audrey would never be able to do what they do. She's sorta on the shy side. Especially when it comes to seeing a bunch of people she doesn't know. Audrey stretched her arms and did a cartwheel. Haha that was about as far as her gymnastic ability went. Well that was the most she'd tried. She giggled when she landed, her knees buckled and she hit the ground, she laughed, kicking out her feet so that she sat flat on the ground, with her legs in front of her. She leaned back on her arms and shook her head, allowing her hair to fall into her eyes.

[/size]

[Brooklyn Gellar]

Brooklyn knew that she was the kind of girl most other girls were terrified to mess with. Known as Queen B. (which actually was sort of a verbal pun since usually girls like her got called Queen Bee), Brooklyn was one of those girls who was always informed in the latest gossip and used to her advantage. Most people at least generally thought that Brooklyn was also the kind of girl who took pleasure in discovering other people’s secrets and picking up on little details to use against people. But most people had little clue to the extent that Brooklyn paid attention to others. Brooklyn loved psychology. She loved reading people. She loved analyzing others. She loved picking up on little details that no one else noticed. And she did all of these things very frequently. And she used her talents to her advantage.
But, strangely enough, she didn’t really like to talk about it nor her findings. Brooklyn was kind of a control freak, not entirely in social settings, but just that she really wanted control over her own life. And observation was knowledge, knowledge was power, and power was control. As shallow as it sounded, she didn’t really want people sharing the same powers she had, at least when it came in regards to her own life.
Sure, when she hated someone, she’d pull her knowledge out of the bag. That, of course, was how she got her reputation for being such a mean girl.
But back to the here and now.
Even though she didn’t blab everything she knew, she did love to talk, (why wouldn’t she?) And just a few seconds ago, Brooklyn had been hanging out with a few fellow cheerleaders and flirting with a few jocks; nothing uncommon of her. But when she looked down at her phone, it said that she had a message from her sister, Cindy.
Now Cindy was a story in herself. A few years older than Brooklyn, Cindy had been completely in charge of all things popular at Shadowridge High School. Scandalous, wild, and wealthy, Cindy had created quite the reputation for herself. And Brooklyn had inherited a spot in the popular circle. But Brooklyn was different. Perfectionist, sensitive, and social climbing, Brooklyn had created a new label for herself; the mean girl.
But as much as she was notorious for it, it wasn’t exactly true. True enough, Brooklyn did some pretty mean things, but she did some really nice things too. She didn’t go after someone without being provoked first. She was the type of person who needed something to justify her actions before declaring “war” on someone. Another thing that most people didn’t know about Brooklyn was that she was a hopeless romantic. Brooklyn’s greatest desire in life was to truly love and be loved for who she really was. She dreamed of one day actually finding someone who would really understand her.
But then, yet again, she was the perfectionist cheerleader; she was going to get some black lash for living on the top of the circle. Wearing the title “Queen” comes with a cost. So, was it really a surprise that she was called one of the school’s mean girls?
But back to her cell phone: Cindy and Brooklyn are surprisingly tight, best friends, actually. When Brooklyn looked down at her phone she immediately excused herself. Not wanting to be overheard, she walked to an area where she knew she wouldn’t be overheard; the backstage entrance to the theater. She’d performed on the stage a few times for some school assemblies, and she knew her way around her. She quickly dialed her sister’s number. But to her bitter surprise, it just kept ringing. That probably meant there would be no answer…and that’s when she heard it…
The clonking of shoes, the sound of movement echoing throughout the theater; someone else was here.
Brooklyn made her way through the curtains as her sister’s voicemail picked up.
“Hey…” She trailed off absent mindly, talking to her phone.
That’s when she saw the girl laugh as she hit the ground. From the looks of her hair and clothes, she was some type of rebel. But her hair was in her face, so Brooklyn didn’t recognize her…well, not yet.
It was kind of a surprising sight. Not really knowing how to react, Brooklyn raised her eyebrows.

[Audrey Monroe]

Audrey Monroe was perhaps the farthest thing from perfect. She was a rebel. Meaning she didn't like the way things were. She made things complicated by refusing to do as told. It wasn't that hard to understand. If she didn't like something then she didn't follow through with it. You told her to do something and she'd keep doing whatever it was she was doing. You yelled at her and she'd yell back. You talk mess about her and sure enough you will find her in your face. You want to talk mess say it to her face, not to other people. Unless you're just talking the talk and can't walk the walk. Audrey didn't exactly like fighting. It was petty. And what did it prove, that you were childish and idiotic. No she refused to sink to such a low level. She would get in your face, yes, but it wasn't to talk mess about you, unless of course you really pissed her off. But no she'd confront you about it, funny thing is if you lied she knew. She had a little ability to read people. Though she didn't do it often, she thought it was a stupid thing. So she just left it alone. Not even worrying about it.

She was the kind of girl no one tended to mess with. Sure they talked mess, sure they said all their little lies and such about her. That fine, she didn't really care. They were always confronted. She didn't take that kinda bull. No. Audrey preferred to keep her name as clean as possible. She went to far lengths to do so. No one, and she meant no one, knew about her home life. They knew her father had died and her mother had remarried. They knew he was a lawyer and that he drank. Yes. But they didn't know of his violent attacks on her almost every night. Few nights she escapsed his beating by a) not being there or b) him passing out as soon as he was home. No one say the bruises, no one saw the cuts. No one heard the real story. They knew Audrey to be clumsy and an utter klutz. That could have been why, when a bruise was discovered they never suspected a thing. They always ended up in common places. Oh I fell, I hit something. So on and so forth. The lies flowed, and she'd spoken them so much that they actually seemed real. She liked to look at things differently. She liked to believe that the bruises she had were not from Alex, but from an accident. That's just how she preferred to think of things. Once she believed them, the lies came, and so then everyone would believe her. When you believe something you have that conviction, and that is what fools everyone. The tone of voice, the facial expression, the strength of your words, and the conviction. Though too much and you would see the lie for what it was. She had perfected the art of lying. After all why else would she be a compulsive liar. She had to be good at it. And that was what she was, good at lying.

Audrey looked around, she'd heard something, speaking, a whispering. What was it? Her eyes moved and suddenly she found the source. Her eyes lingered for a fraction of a second before moving yet again. She pushed herself up off the ground, now standing. She turned to face the new arrival. "Well if it isn't Miss Queen Bee herself." Audrey muttered. Though her expression was much the same as earlier. Quite cheerful. She glanced at the girl. "And what do I owe the honor of your presence Miss Bee?"

[/color] she questioned. Her hands moving to her hips. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the right. She bit her bottom lip and sighed slightly, though her smile never faultered and her eyes never changed. No she looked just the same as before.[/size][/color][/center]

[Brooklyn Gellar]

Brooklyn stared off absent mindedly as this girl seemed to react and turn around to face her. Brooklyn had forgotten that she was currently on the phone with her sister’s voicemail…and it was currently recording. But maybe it was actually a good thing that her sister hadn’t picked up…if she had then Brooklyn would have probably been overheard.
“Well if it isn’t Miss Queen Bee herself.”
Ah, so it was one of these. Brooklyn Gellar was fully aware of her popularity, sometimes too aware, but she never liked it when others (particularly those out of her circle) acknowledged it to her face. It made things seem…awkward; like she wasn’t a real human and was incapable of feeling real emotions. But hey, she didn’t expect others to understand her; especially people she didn’t hang out with. She was used to living as “the mean girl” and she was used to the prejudices that went along with it. And as much as people claimed that she “looked down on people” she felt she was the victim of similar circumstances. Other people were “too good for her” because they “weren’t in to all that popularity stuff.”
But what annoyed her the most were the people who tried to push all her buttons just and try to get her to react just because she was popular and they weren’t. Brooklyn supposed that another fight would help curve their unhappiness with life. But fortunately enough for Brooklyn, she rarely had to deal with these people. She was usually surrounded by friends, and off in her own world; away from all the rebellious kids who hated her for it.
Well, she didn’t really think this girl entirely fitted into this category of people. She looked happy, not like she wanted to kill or her or get into a fist fight just because she could.
“And what do I owe the honor of your presence, Miss Queen Bee?”
So this was just another girl that judged her; or was she? Ah well, this was typical, but why should she really care? She was used to this.
But Brooklyn remained poised and appeared under control, like she didn’t even care. She stared this girl up and down, a few seconds passing before she spoke quietly but still hearable. She rested her phone on her shoulder.
“No honor, just coincidence.”
She played her part perfectly; stuck up snob, who only cared about what was going on in her own world. That was definitely something Brooklyn Gellar would say... But yet, it wasn’t really demeaning; she wasn’t looking for a fight. Brooklyn Gellar had had a great day so far and planned to keep it that way…And it wasn’t like this girl had done anything to hurt her.
After speaking, she put her phone back up to her ear.
“Hey, Sis, just calling you back. Much love, bye.”

[Audrey Monroe]

Audrey was honestly by no means at all looking for a fight. Hello the girl was smiling. She was simply acknowledging the girl as she heard her called. Though her real name elluded her. Audrey sighed a little, she began to walk and move. The girl was obviously busy. So why not entertain herself until she was actually spoken too. She put her hands in the air and leaned forward, her hands leaving the ground and her hands replacing them. She stayed like that for a few seconds before she turned slightly and landed facing the opposite direction. It wasn't a full cartwheel. No. More like a roundoff. Those were quite fun to do, though she hadn't done one in years. She looked around. Well now that that was out of her system what to do, what to do? She walked to the left wings, she disappeared behind the curtains.

Audrey had managed to find a ball. Though why on earth there was a ball on stage she didn't know. It was rather large and one of those bouncy ones. She smiled lightly as she re-emerged from the wings, holding her find. She threw it in the air, seeing as it wasn't very heavy or anything. She put her hands together and bumped it. Yes this rebel knew full well how to play Volleyball. She was actually quite good at it too. But what was the point in playing on a school team? They only ruined it with all their rules and such. A bunch of rubbish. She then set the ball. Watching as it flew into the air, perfect for any spiker. She swung her arm back and when it came back her hand connected with the ball. She smiled as she watched it go. Just then she heard the girl say something. "Oh I see."

[/color] she muttered, her eyes growing wide. Opps. "Watch out."[/color] she yelled. The ball seeming to be on a crash collison course with the girl.[/size][/center]

[Brooklyn Gellar]

Brooklyn thought it a little odd as the girl did an interesting sort of roundoff after she had spoken. It was like she wasn't even paying attention to Brooklyn! Now this, was weird...
Brooklyn wasn't used to this. She thrived on attention; that's what she always received from most people. But this girl was different. Brooklyn didn't know if she should be insulted, or just amused. It was...a new experience for her...Well, not exactly. Her mother used to do the same thing; when she was a child her mother would ask her a question only to start doing something else and get annoyed when Brooklyn would actually answer it. Of course, as a child this hurt Brooklyn, but she quickly learned to get used to it. Now, it didn't even matter to Brooklyn. And since she didn't live with her mom, she didn't get that from her that much anymore...
Wow, what was this girl doing now? She had a lot of confidence to treat B in this way. By now she'd emerged with a ball or something...Brooklyn had kind of spaced out and hadn't paid too much attention to the details of what she was up too. But now she heard her mutter something. Brooklyn felt a little guilty about not paying that too much attention to her, and began to try and analyze her actions.
But this only made her space out again...
She was back to thinking about all the people she'd had weird encounters with, and how she'd tried to analyze each other their personalties. At the time she was angry or embarrassed, but now that she was thinking about it, they were quite comical...
"Watch out!"
Brooklyn quickly put her hands up as to block it. It hit against her hands hard, a sound erupting throughout the stage. But at least it hadn't hit something else...
"Excuse me?" She exclaimed, shocked that had just happened. She ran a finger from her right hand through her hair. Now she looked down at her left hand and the realization of the pain she was feeling dawned on her.
"Uh!" She rubbed her wrist, clearly over-exaggerating but that was something Brooklyn Gellar was notorious for. "Oh...my...g..." She didn't even finish her sentence, she'd gotten too distracted by the pain.
"This can't be sprained." She said desperately to herself, as if terrified of the thought. "It just can't be!" She was looking more frantic by the second.