ll Topics- Nevertheless ll 
Just a bit of a starter story just so you could possibly feel a bit more connected to Cierra… just to understand her a bit better almost! I got bored, so I decided to write :)
Flashback; Age 10
"Mom!" I burst through the doors of my home, my backpack swinging on my tiny little back, my blonde waves bouncing as I skipped towards her office, throwing my backpack onto the marble covered floor.
I walked into her office, my head held high and a tight smile on my face. This was it. I was going to be recognized. My brilliance would finally be noticed. No more being shooed away, no more of being introduced as 'the other daughter', no more of that. 
I wouldn't feel worthless anymore, no way. It was my time. My time to shine and to make things right. 

"Mom!" I say to her excitedly, waving the white pressed envelope that held my report card, which had an A+ in every subject, with a 95% or even higher. I had also managed to pass all of my extracurriculars with an outstanding. Who was the smart daughter now, huh? I thought to myself. Me, I think silently, a grin perched on my face. 

My mother turned around in her leather chair, the family business phone pressed against her ear as she jotted something down in her agenda. "Give me a second, hun," She says to the person on the other line, then holding her hand to the receiver. "Honey, mommy's busy right now, I'm trying to organize things for your sister's party," She says to be through a tight smile. 

My smile fades and I look at her, "But I-" I was cut off as I waved the envelope around. 

"Run along now, I'll talk to you later," She says sweetly, but I had learned by now that her words were empty, nothing but empty promises that would never be fulfilled. 

I sigh, turning around and heading out of the office, and listening as my mother got back to her conversation. "Oh, wait, Cierra!" She says and I turn around, hopeful. Maybe she's going to say something. Maybe she's going to say that I look pretty, or that she's so proud of me. 
"Lay off the snacks, you're getting a little pudgy." She winks.
Definitely not the words I was expecting. 

I walked out of the office, heading upstairs to my room, my tiny ballet flats pounding the carpet covered stairs. I reached my room, all the way at the end of the hallway. I slipped my shoes off, and stared at myself in the full length mirror in the corner. I tilted my head to the side once, twice, three times, looking at my body. I looked from front-view, from the side, from different angles and from behind. I had always been thin, the same as my mother and my sisters. But as I glanced at myself in the mirror and as I stripped my clothes off and pinched the skin around my hip bones as well as my baby-faced cheeks, I saw nothing but fat. Great, this was yet another thing that set me off from my sisters. 
I sighed, then heading to the bathroom. I needed to shower and to brush my teeth, I needed some kind of way to clean off the taste of being a disappointment. I closed the bathroom door behind me, grabbing my toothbrush from the holder and getting some minty toothpaste onto it. I brushed my teeth hard and then once I was done, I stared at it. I stared at the bristles of it, and then down, to the somewhat pointy, tapered end of the toothbrush. My eyes averted to the porcelain toilet bowl that was scrubbed clean every single day by the maid. I stuck the toothbrush down my throat, then feeling whatever I had eaten come up. I covered my mouth with my hand, my cheeks big like a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter. I ran to the toilet, letting the nastiness that was in my mouth pour into the bowl and then coughing furiously as I pushed the handle, watching it swirl away. 

I went into the bathroom closet, getting the scale out. I ran the shower, stripping off my clothes once again and stepping onto it. I lost a pound. 
Hm, am I still considered pudgy, mom? I thought to myself as I looked down at the two-digit number lit on the screen. 
Present day; 
I let my bright blue eyes open, adjusting to the sunlight that was pouring through the windows. Someone had already been up, I was guessing, considering that the curtains had been closed for privacy just last night. I guess they had thought that using the curtains as a wake up call was a good idea. 

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, letting my smoky brown makeup from last night smear onto my hands, as well as my fake eyelashes, whose glue was peeling. Ugh, I thought to myself as I looked around. I was lying on the couch, some guy lying right next to me (or practically on top of me considering the small size of the couch.) His arm was thrown sloppily around me, and he was snoring lightly. Not to mention the fact that I could feel his bare b*ner next to my as*. 

I have to get out of here, I think to myself. I remove the guy's arm, not bothering to be gentle. I mean, it's not like I'll ever cross paths with him again… on second thought though, I might.. Nantucket is a pretty small island. 

I swing my legs over the couch standing up. 
The party last night had been wild, out of control. The type of parties I loved. Of course though, it was the type of party my mother and father would probably forbid me from going to, so I had to lie and tell her I was staying over a friend's house. She ate the lie up too, which was good. 

I was in my underwear. I had gotten a bit… er, cozy with that guy and had stripped down. Looking over the floor, I found our clothes in a pile. 
I grabbed my dress, tossing it over my head and stumbling over to where my sky-high Louboutin pumps were lying. My Valentino, leopard clutch was untouched on the table surprisingly, and my leather jacket was right there where I had left it. I shrugged it on and then stumbled out of the house, closing the door. I wanted to at least leave before whoever's parents returned home and found their house in complete astray. 

It was sunny out, but it had to be morning. The air had this chill to it, and the sky was a bit eerie looking. I took my Dior sunglasses out of my clutch, using them to cover my hungover and makeup smeared eyes. 
My car was parked down the block and after stumbling towards it, I finally got in it, starting it up and driving home. I barely even knew where this house was or where I was, but I knew Nantucket like the back of my hand, so I quickly found myself maneuvering through the streets and towards my house. The gate to my long driveway opened up with ease, and I drove my car through, parking it in it's spot then getting out. 

I wondered if anyone was up and if so, if they'd ask any questions about my night last night. I'd gotten to be somewhat of a good liar over the years, even to myself, but I was too hungover to even discuss anything. 
Pushing my key into it's slot and opening the front door, I quickly grabbed my heels off my feet, holding them in my hands. My head was pounding and my house echoed badly, meaning that if my heels were to clack on the expensive marble floors, well, it would be loud. 

I looked around the house, taking my sunglasses off and putting them back inside my bag. It seemed empty, but I wandered into the kitchen, looking to see Camille sitting at the island, reading the newspaper, a class of orange juice already set there. I stared at her. I didn't necessarily dislike Camille, but she just always seemed to hate most of us, so I had grown… wary of her. After awhile, she looked up, a fake smile perched on her face. 

"Late night last night at your 'friend's house'?" She asks. 

I rolled my eyes, heading to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of Fiji water. "No," I answer. 

"Yeah, right," She says as I turn around. "You know, I'm sure your mommy wouldn't be pleased to hear you lied to her." 

"How do you know I lied?" I raise an arched eyebrow.

She let out a snort, "Please, you're hungover.. I can see straight through you."

I roll my eyes once again, taking a sip of my water, "Just don't tell her, okay?" I say to her, suddenly tired. I wanted to roll under my covers and sleep away my hangover. 

"Whatever you say, Cierra," She says. 

I walk away, trudging up the steps towards my room. I still had the same room as I always did, at the end of the hallway, but it had changed as the years went by, exactly as I had.
I'd come a long way from the little ten year-old girl that was just wanting to please mommy and be the perfect little girl. I had always wanted the attention, to be loved and cared for, for them to be proud of me. 

Were they proud of me now? Probably not. 
But I was recognized. Now I don't have to fight for attention. Now, I don't even have to try. I'm the center of their universe (along with the other girls), but I had claimed my spot perfectly. I had it all, the attention, the love, the everything. I wasn't in the shadows anymore.
But… why did I still not feel good enough? Why, why, why? 

Maybe it's because compared to my lovely sisters, compared to their tall, slender frames, and compared to their sculptured cheekbones, and compared to their academic knowledge, and compared to their perfect relationships, compared to everything about them… I'm just nothing. 
I'm not smart, I'm not pretty, I'm not skinny, I'm nothing… I don't even measure up. The only way I had gotten attention was by acting out… I didn't have stellar accomplishments that had gotten me noticed, nor did I have good lucks, I had to rebel, which was sad. 

I throw my heels onto the ground, taking my jacket off and looking in the mirror. My face… ugh, I think to myself, staring at my pouty lips and deep set eyes. I run my hands over my collarbones… you could feel it, yet, but you could barely see them. I sigh, looking at myself. Why couldn't I be pretty like them? Why, why, why? I hated myself. I really did. 
Not that I would ever let it show. 

If I let my real thoughts about me show, then I would be labelled as weak. And I just couldn't let that happen. I just couldn't. 
So, I drink, I smoke, I party, just to try and drown those feelings out… everyone probably still thinks I'm fighting to get noticed, but I'm not… I'm just trying to make myself numb to the feelings of myself that I've come accustomed to. 

I turn away from the mirror. I couldn't even look at myself. Instead, I fall into my king sized bed, curling up into a ball and not even bothering to pull the covers around myself as I drifted to sleep, somehow thinking that maybe when I wake up everything will be different. 
I hope. 
OKAY! So, just to better explain some things because I almost feel like either A) Cierra is a very complex, and very difficult character to understand or B) I can't portray her right… I'm not sure which one, but to better understand Cierra, let me explain a few things. 
The bulimia thing when she was ten was just a thing that she would do when she was younger. Don't worry, I'm not going down the whole bulimic character road again. It's just going to be something she did/does occasionally. For the most part, the sisters don't really know, because they don't know how low she feels of herself. 
Also, Cierra acts really confident and strong. When she was young, she was /always/ pushed to the side and she never felt that she was good enough, so, to make up for it so to speak, she started rebelling, which caught her parent's eyes. Now though, she parties and things because she tries to numb out how low her confidence level is. 
Got it? If you need any more information, you can read her bio here- http://www.polyvore.com/girls_girls/set?id=52244258

Also, make sure to join TRR if you're interested!- http://www.polyvore.com/rich_reckless_trr/group.show?id=144533 

And yes, I know that the outfit is a bit, er, mismatched, but Cierra is kinda gonna be one of those girls that can just throw on whatever and still look flawless xD
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