Post by Haylie Raelin Clavell on Apr 8, 2009 10:44:49 GMT -5
Haylie had a permanent scowl on her face as she made her way into town, ignoring the phone that kept vibrating in her pocket. Yet again she’d had a phone call from home, with her mum trying to persuade her – or rather, force her – to come home and then go to university once the summer was over. She had the grades for it, she didn’t have to waste her life with some stupid little music group, she had been told. And then she’d been told how Kasper was missing her and kept asking where she was. That was when she’d ended the conversation. She refused to allow her parents to send her on a guilt trip. She was following her own path, not one that they had drawn out for her!
Feeling the vibration start up again she quickly took the phone out of her pocket and turned it off. She was tempted to throw it into the closest wall out of anger but really didn’t think that would be such a good idea. She didn’t have the money to buy another one.
A drink would be good... if she could avoid getting IDed. Normally she didn’t like trying to buy alcohol if she thought she might be IDed, but on this occasion, she really didn’t care. She really wasn’t dressed for clubbing... but that seemed the most convenient place to get drunk, since there was one just across the road. Glancing either way to check she wasn’t about to get run over, she headed over. Getting inside wasn’t an issue – she was eighteen, after all, even if she might not look it.
Heading straight to the bar she dipped into her pocket for some loose change to pay for her drink. ”Smirnoff ice, please,” she said to the bartender when he turned her way. A slightly surprised look came onto his face, which quickly turned to scepticism. [black]”ID please.”[/black] Haylie glared at him for a few moments before turning away. The annoyance at her parents had translated into annoyance at anyone who stopped her doing what she wanted right now, and at this moment that was the bartender. There was a definite hard edge to her voice when she replied that you wouldn’t normally hear from Haylie. ”Forget it.” So much for that. She couldn’t even get drunk like everyone else in this room. She stared disinterestedly around, not at all up for dancing herself – that wasn’t why she’d come here.
Outfit.
412 words.
Complete.
Open.
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