"So this is the end of the story. Everything we had, everything we did is buried in dust." ESE

Eyes Wide Open, Gotye
Victorie 'Vicky' Reinerson Age: 15
Year: Freshman
Bio: Imported straight from the scenic coastline of Southern France, Victorie came from a small town to a grand city a little less than a year ago. And the Upper East locals where quick to take note of this French Belle to reckon with, though like most newbies, she isn't as thriving to make it on top. Victorie is more introverted and confides to her leather diary and Renaissance novels. She has an old European glamour to her that allures everyone who is confronted by her humble presence. People have taken notice to her suttle sex appeal and old glamour style. And even though her family is well-off, they are very conservative and subtle indulgences. Victorie doesn't know, you have to be a Machiavellian, back-stabbing, power bitchh and it's obvious Victorie won't come out alive with these viscous popularity starved Freshmen, will she put on her bitchh face and stiletto stabbing Choo's to survive the city.
Model: Frida Gustavsson
Taken by:

1. Victorie
2. Rain
3. Isabel
4. Hazel
5. Victorie
 

 

Story up! @mademoibelle @urban-barbie
"And you are going to be attending which school in New York? A good one I presume." My grandmother, Clara, asked while swirling the red wine around in her glass. She looked at me over her thin wire-framed glasses, her eyes as blue as they were thirty years ago capturing the young child within her. I had the same bright blue eyes.
"Constance Billard. It's the best on the Upper East Side." I crossed my legs properly afraid she would comment on how short my silk dress was or how I wasn't making complete eye contact. She wasn't very easy to please.
"Yes. I would spend any amount of money to get her the best education." My mother added. She cast me a side glance and motioned for me to sit up a little straighter. I sighed quietly through my teeth, but did what I was told. I was always a good listener.
"And do you know what courses you are taking?" Clara questioned as the waitress poured more ice water into my glass, the ice hitting the glass walls loudly.
"The normal classes for my age like Government, Spanish, and English." I answered again. I was forbidden to take French considering that was my first language and the thought of learning another language (I already knew two) made me frown.
"They already have her pre-placed in courses that most girls her age signed up for. It saves us time considering we will be moving into the house in New York a mere three days before the beginning of school." My mother patted my hand with hers. I shuddered at the thought of the move. It was only six days away and most of my belongings were already shoved and folded into cardboard boxes. I was sleeping on a single mattress with a fleece throw cover as a blanket because most of the furniture had already been shipped out.
"I don't want you to worry too much about your subjects though. You have always been bright and it is important to introduce yourself to your classmates and go to the social events. Make friends." Clara raised her eyebrows. I had plenty of friends at my private school on the French coast, but it had taken me long enough to open up to them. I preferred keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself. I wasn't too keen on making a new set of friends.
"I'm sure she will have no trouble with that. Right, Victorie?" My mother pressed. I nodded.
"Now, now Mary. No need to speak for your daughter." My grandmother corrected. "You will try to be more social, right?"
"Of course, Nan." I murmured, twisting my hands in my lap.
"Good, good." Clara smiled at me. "So is your new apartment in the good part of town?"
"Mother, of course it is. It's a pretty three bedroom, four bath loft with a great veiw of Central Park from the terrace." My mother, Mary, exclaimed, a little offended that my grandmother would even hit about that. "And there is plenty for Vic to do. Times Square, coffee shops on every corner, the Empire State, and the Statue of Liberty..." Mary ticked off an imaginary list on her finger tips. I held back the urge to roll my eyes. She must not know me at all. I didn't want to get caught up in the throng of tourists and would much rather spend my time in Centrail Park near the little pond with my journal and maybe a coffee. I had no intentions of picking up a 'I Love NYC' t-shirt on my daily rounds.
"Yes. Very exciting. And entertaining." I swallowed a gulp of water. I didn't want to talk about my soon-to-be-new life. I would live it when I needed to. For now, I wanted to enjoy my next few days left in France. But being cramped in this tiny over-priced restaurant which smelled of floraly old-woman perfumes and cigar smoke wasn't exactly what I planned. But, I didn't complain.
"Are you excited, Vic?" Clara asked, turning her attention back to me. She looked at me as if she was expecting me to fall right out of my chair with happiness.
I swallowed thickly and mustered up the best smile I could. "Very." I spoke out, my voice higher-pitched than normal.