- Eugine Marienne
Likes: Designer frocks, cute things, quiet, calmness
Hates: Violence, Loud Noise, Hatred
Eugine has always had semi-perfect life. That is if you include that she has a hard time breaking out of her Lanvin dressed shell. Ever since Eugine was small she has always loved designer clothes. When her mother, rich socialite Madame Marienne let her daughter touch her silky Chanel dress, Eugine was mesmerized by the beauty of the Elite world. Soon, she started sketching out long evening gowns and dressing up her kittens in lace bows and scarves. By the time she was attending her elite high school, Eugine soon saw reality in a different light that what she was used to back in her world of quiet and comfort. She was bullied by most of the under elite because of her mesmerizing beauty and her fashion sense, which pertained of long pastel skirts and frilly tops. She was soon taken in by the elite and started experiencing a life of drugs, mainly prescription pills. One day she almost OD'd right in school from popping too many vicadins casually, and was oddly famed for it. Now, a whole different person mentally after wards, Eugine is frequented by severe migraines because of the brain damage done to her after she almost OD's, which was only 2 years ago. Now she's trying to follow in the footsteps of her mother, who now harbors anger and disgust towards her daughter after that little "incident" in high school. But will just being another average socialite help Eugine be an elite?
Model: Lauren Conrad
Taken by: OPEN (Hopefully me!)
Story: As I stomped down the sidewalks back to my home, I stepped on a piece of gum, grimacing in disgust as it stuck to the bottom of my 5-inch pump. "Ew!" I yell, everybody around me glaring at me. I casually walk over to a curb, trying to scrape the dirty & chewed gum off of my heel, attempting over and over as I get more and more frustrated.
A man walks by, and as my eyes dart over to him, I actually kind of recognize him. My head starts to hurt, the gears in my brain turning, pondering who the man is. As soon as the name and meaning of this man come to my mind, my whole body tingles a little. "Vicadin," I whisper to myself, hungrily.
I catch up with the man, looking like he's in his mid-20's or so; in my mind, I'm thinking, "Wow, he's pretty hot. Mm," but then I come back to reality. I look at him, and say, "Don't I know you from somewhere?" My head hurts, but inside, I'm thrilled and anxious all at the same time. He stops, looks down at my 5' 7" stature and grunts strangely, "Uh.. yeah. I think so." He looks like he's in a hurry, like he's on the run. I look up at him, responding, "Don't you.. um.. sell the stuff?" The man looks around, checking if anybody is listening in on this conversation, "Yes.. I do. Why, do you need something?"
My heart says, "NO! DON'T!" But my brain is too stupid to function and says, "YES! BUY IT!" I stand there for a second or two, looking around just as he did before. "Well.." I say. "What?" he looks at me, a little angrier now. "Y-yes, I need to buy," I say, stuttering as I speak. "Alright. For the right amount, it'll be.. seventy dollars," he counts in his head. I get a little shaky, a little afraid. I send a hand to my purse, grabbing the money quickly as I put it in his hand. We exchange, and I then stick the Vicadin inside my purse as I quickly walk away without thanking the man.
I arrive home at the usual time, surprisingly. I was worried I would be late because of you-know-what. I push open the glass door, entering my mother's vast entrance room as I hear her call my name. "EUGINE!" she yells. "Y-y-yes, Mom?" I stutter nervously as I walk up the marble-tiled stairs into my room. She looks at me, "Your room is a COMPLETE mess. Clean it this INSTANT!" I roll my oceanic eyes, then saying, "Fine," pouting a bit.
As she exits my room, I creep over to the door, turning my fingers to lock it. I throw myself onto the king-sized bed, decked in goose-feather comforters, Egyptian cotton sheets, and feather pillows galore. My hand moves over to my purse, trembling a bit. I grab the Vicadin bottle. My brain begins to turn the gears in delight and excitement, and the blood pumps fast through my heart's veins. I open it gently, being aware of shaking it. I grab 4 pills, my pupils widening in pleasure. My hand instantly sends the pills to my wide-open mouth, my throat then almost instinctively swallowing them.
I plop myself back onto my pillows, then falling into a deep, deep sleep. Oh, Vicodin. You are finally back.