Title: Fashionista
Blood Type: Burt's Bees. Man that stuff is good.
Disclaimer: I don't own Code Lyoko. There is nothing witty to read here; move on.
Warnings: Nil.
Author's Note: This is the first of 20 pieces written for the LJ community otp20. However, as short as this piece is, it is not a one-shot.
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If there was one thing Elisabeth Delmas—known as Sissi to all but her close relations, who refused to call her by anything but her given name—loved, it was herself. And why shouldn't she? She was, after all, pretty, popular and well on her way to being the co-captain of Kadic Academy's cheerleading squad. Not to mention, she was on the cutting edge of fashion.
She smiled; she admired that same smile in the mirror, the smile she had spent weeks perfecting. Satisfied with her smile, she gave her long hair a toss. Perfect! Sissi allowed a brief moment of unregulated joy to cross her face before she took a deep breath and cleared her expression. After all, smiling too much led to nasty wrinkles around the eyes. She took another deep breath and cleared her mind. It was time to meditate.
Sissi sat cross-legged on her bed and pulled out the latest issue of Face, the fashion magazine that covered the cutting edge—and hottest—trends. Sissi was determined to be on that edge. Everything was perfect.
Sissi opened her magazine; she let out a horrendously horrified and horrendously loud shriek.
She dropped the magazine in shock. Though it landed on the floor, the magazine seemed to have willed itself to stay open. There, in glossy color, worn by supermodels almost as svelte and stunning as Sissi herself, were Odd Della Robbia's pants. Odd's pants were tragically unfashionable, being dark purple down the right leg and lavender down the left, and Sissi never missed an opportunity to remind him of that fact. Odd's pants had no right being in any fashion magazine, least of all, hers.
Sissi fumed. There was no way in anywhere that Odd's tragic fashion faux pas could be considered a fashion trend! She picked up the magazine with shaking hands. She had, unfortunately, not been mistaken. There, under the heading "New Hotness," were Odd's pants. Odd's—tragically—fashionable pants.
The only alternative left was that she wasn't actually awake. Sissi gave herself the lightest of pinches just to be sure. After all, there was no point in damaging her perfect skin cells in either case. Her perfect skin squished together, making wrinkles that thankfully smoothed themselves out the moment she released her hold.
If she wasn't dreaming, then why did her life suddenly feel like a nightmare?