disclaimer: i'm really a nice person, so nothing against anyone personally. i wanted to include a lot of you ladies...and i thought my character needed a bit of drama *shrugs* so with that being said...here's my story. =| 
and credit to a violent delight for the layout


I walked into the kitchen where all the girls where located, baking. I headed straight to the refrigerator for my bottle, containing my special breakfast, and then took a seat on the counter. I didn’t bake, nor was I going to pretend I did. Besides, I didn’t like pesky brats anyhow. 
“Your help would be appreciated,” said August. If I wasn’t mistaken, I heard sarcasm in her tone.
I shrugged it off. 
“I came for moral support. Ask Alicia,” I pointed to the quiet beauty standing at the stove.
She just smiled. I always wondered about that girl. Anyone that quiet…well, something had to be wrong with her.
“Besides, I’m not a baker. I’m a dancer, that’s what I do.”
“That’s what we all do,” Anya rolled her eyes.
“Some more than others,” I stared at her. 
“You’re just jealous because I’m more in demand than you are.”
“Hardly.” Well, it wasn’t entirely true; I had a handful of customers that loved me. But no, not as many as Anya. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Alright, I’m here. Let’s get to baking,” Addison announced as she walked into the kitchen.
“Uhm, you’re late Addi,” I giggled at her.
“I’m not late, you all are just early,” she joked, placing her hands on her slender hips.
“Why are we baking for kids anyway,” I asked no one in particular.
“To keep a smile on the children’s faces,” Ariella perked up.
“Couldn’t we all just pitch in money and called it a day.”
“Money doesn’t by happiness, silly,” Ariella laughed.
“It buys my happiness,” I giggled raising my bottle. 

I don’t know how, but somehow, I was dragged along to the children’s charity. I didn’t understand why we were here. What was the point of cooking at the mansion, if we were coming here to cook more cookies, cakes, and Allisah’s yummy cupcakes. 
I picked up a cupcake and headed out the kitchen where the Barbies and few of the other girls were. I took a seat on a tattered couch and pulled out my phone as I bit into the yummy goodness. 
I looked up to see a small, brunette girl standing before me. “Goodbye.”
“Uhm, you’re sitting on my jacket,” she said smartly.
I looked down to see I was sitting on a thin, red jacket. I leaned over pulling the jacket from under me. Suddenly, it was like déjà vu. 

I stood off to the side as I watched the blonde beauty write on paper. She was sitting on my jacket, and I really wanted it. It was the only one I had, and the only thing I had left that belonged to my mother. I let out a heavy breath; here goes nothing.
“Hello.” I said softly.
“Goodbye,” she said without looking up.
I immediately became angry. Who was this b.tch to come in our home and have an attitude. “What crawled up you’re a.ss and died?”
She glanced up, looking me over. “Look, little girl, I don’t have time for you; go pest someone else.”
“I was trying to let you know you had your huge a.ss on my jacket.”
She looked down to see I was seating on the brown, thin jacket. She leaned to the side, pulling the jacket from under her and placed it in her lap. “What’s your name?”
“How old are you, Amy?”
“Why?” I asked crossing my arms. I still had an attitude.
She shrugged, “Just making conversation.”
“But I thought-,” I paused. “17.”
“Come here.” 
Slowly, and skeptically, I took a seat beside her.
“You see that man right there?” she pointed to a handsome man talking to Ms. Beez.
“Yeah?” It came out as a question.
“Now, you see what I have on?”
I looked at her clothing. I did. It seemed very expensive. I figured the old man was her lover or something. “Yeah,” I said somewhat embarrassed. I looked down at my own clothing: a shirt with a few coffee stains and jeans two sizes to big.
“Well, what if I told you, you could have something like this…”
My eyes widen, “How so?”
“Can you keep a secret,” she staged whispered.
I nodded my head vigorously, “Yes, I can keep a secret.”
“I’m a stripper.”
“No way,” I gasped, “but, but you look so…normal.”
She laughed. “My boss,” she pointed to the man looking our way, “likes to keep up appearances.”
She stood up, grabbing my hand, “I’ll introduce you.”
I removed my hand from hers, “I can’t be a stripper!”
She looked around, “Would you rather stay here?”
I looked around and thought about it. “Fine. What’s his name?”


I shook my head, getting rid of the memory. I looked around for the little girl, she was in the corner playing with a Barbie. 
“You okay?”
I looked up and saw Addison standing in front of me.
“Oh, uhm, yeah, I’m fine.” I smiled.
“Well we are ready to go,” she smiled.
“Good, cause I need a drink.”
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