JOIN THE GROUP : http://www.polyvore.com/russias_elite/group.show?id=154324

Brooklyn Woodsey. {16}
Hometown: NYC, New York.
Host: The Tchaikoskaya Family
Brooke, Brooke, Brooke. How to even start with this girl? Well, for starters, she hails from the glamorous city that never sleeps so she has inherited all the traits of a young socialite: confidence, a million dollar smile that can get her anything and of course an endless supply of b-tchiness. Brooklyn butts heads with basically anyone who appears to be a threat and is not afraid to go against someone else’s order just to make sure she stays on top. However, the tables are starting to turn. Brooke thought she would take on Moscow by storm. One look at the other exchange students and it was practically confirmed right there! But we all know that when two queens are put in one castle, there is only one who can sit in the throne, and Vasilisa Tchaikoskaya made it quite clear that the throne has already been claimed. Things aren't exactly going as planned, but anyone who has ever met Brooklyn knows that it will take a lot more to stop her. Unfortunately, she doesn't know Vasilisa as well as she thinks she does because her new strategy to take down the enemy? Break her from the outside. Brooke’s planning to take Vasilisa’s friends, position as the head b-tch of Russia’s elite, and eventually snake her way into /becoming/ her…and I’m not just talking about putting on a wig and sunglasses and forging a signature every once in a while. Brooklyn always goes big or goes home. Apparently she can do both now, after all her home is in the heart of Moscow! It’s the giant white estate, the Tchaikoskaya household. She’s lived there all her life. Didn't you know?
Model: Cara Delevigne
Taken by: @elaine-elizabethxo

{ PROLOUGE i guess }

Brooke shrieked at her dad. "EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT?!" She yelled, frustrated. "You're going making me go to WHERE?!" She added. Her father, Alexander smoothed the top of his head, impatient. "You're going to Moskow, Russia." "WHY THOUGH?" She screamed in a whiny tone, "I was supposed to go to Stephanie's party tonight!" "Well too bad, pack your bags and start thinking about the reasons why I'm sending you to Moskow in the first place." Brooke stomped her foot on the floor and ran up the stairs. Whatever, she was still going to the party anyway. She threw on her gold embellished Herve Leger bandage dress and added a Phillip Lim motorcycle jacket to edge it up. For accessories, she added her Alexander Mcqueen baroque clutch and had assorted stacked bracelets. She slipped on her Carlos Santana cutout shoes. After that, she opened her bedroom window and climbed out. Brooke snuck out of her house through the backyard, and personally asked her driver to meet her there. (um idk like let's say the backyard is freaking huge and there's driveways, k) Her chauffeur pulled up in a shiny, black Mercedes Benz. Brooke hopped in and flipped her naturally straight/messy hair. A devious smile came across her face. She always got what she wanted, anyway. (i think i said anyway like 456645456 times)
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