↠drew tanaka↞

[ the model ]

"FUCK YOU."

It was only natural that Drew Tanaka was famous for her vulgar language. Something she liked to remind herself of whenever the tabloids went to directions she not only found annoying but extremely full of bullshit.

With her long, previously manicured nails that had crescent like points as they grazed the expensive mahogany desk, she held a leveled gaze at a reporter. Like many other reporters, they seemed intimidated by the tall, Asian model who had a sharper tongue than the most loudmouthed of paparazzi.

This one, however, was not an exception.

"Fuck you," she repeated, although more to herself this time, the acrimonious gaze of her eyes reflecting the fear of the reporter.

"It's t-true, though, isn't it?" they challenged, their voice shaking slightly as the camera was held clumsily in their hands. "You did kiss Jason Grace—"

"I didn't," she told them coolly, cupping their jaw with her sleek, cold fingers tightly. The sudden movement reminded them of a jaguar and the reporter gulped; victorious, Drew's hand went limp as it fell to her side. "I just spoke to him."

"Flirted."

"So what? Everyone flirts."

"I don't."

"You're flirting your way to be homeless," she informed her sharply. "So shut up—what's your name?" She knew it of course; this reporter was famous among the nightmares of many models.

"Eris," she answered, and as if there was a small button in the reporter's mind, she grinned widely, pearly teeth in full view. "Named from the goddess of chaos and discord."

Gritting her teeth while smoothing down the feathery dress, Drew forced herself to smile slightly at the corner of her lips. The words she uttered were poisonous sweet honey: "Hun, the only thing discord about you is your breath."

She grits her teeth and Drew takes a moment to value the anger radiating off the animalistic reporter. The day started out sour and negative, like any other and this is one of those precious moments that she treasures before a photo shoot.

She almost smiles at the thought.

Photo shoot to her means surgery.

Surgery, as in changing her face and maybe feeling less of a hideous creature that deserved to crawl in a hole. She let a small grin escape her, but it looked sardonic. Eris' hand gripped tighter to the pen as she wrote down notes and cleared her throat.

"I know you did something wrong—I can smell the guilt radiating off you," Eris hissed, out of earshot from the cameras. Her voice rang through Drew's skull as her words floated as poisonous clouds: "Everyone knows what you're going to do."

Her heart pounded as she grit her teeth, the words ringing. The guilt wouldn't leave, it wasn't a blemish or a pimple; it was a forever scarred mark of beauty, cracking and bringing in ugliness. Drew inhaled as she smiled.

A doll-like, perfect smile that surprised the reporter.

"Why, Eris, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Thee acrimonious tone was invisible, but Drew felt it as the words slipped from her tongue, familiar and foreign, poisonous and a cure—all at once. Brushing loose strands off hair from her face, she looked at the mirror.

"You can leave now and find news somewhere else." And leave my own privacy out of your business, she silently added, the bitter tone of her words impaling the once sweet smelling air now making it feel choked.

"No."

"No?" Drew laughed hollowly. "Oh, honey, yes. No is for those inconsiderate bigoted idiots who can't understand that I won't tell you." Lowering her voice, she grabbed the front of Eris' shirt while sneaking glances around the room. "Price?"

The reporter's breathe hitched as she answered with a low tone, "They said you would only have thirty three days instead of sixty six."

Drew nodded, satisfied with that—half the torture, plus a slap to the face of everyone who thought she'd go as low as sixty six. Leaning in, her lips an inch away from the reporter's ear, the gossip ready to pounce and words ready to escape throughout the air.

"Piper McLean is planning to kill herself because she was raped by Kronos."

And the information, juicy and morbid, disgusting and yet pleasing to Eris' ear, Drew couldn't help but realize how she ruined her sister's life just for the sake of her own selfishness. She shoved the churning guilt down, replacing it with the smug look that was reflected from Eris.

"Why thank you, Tanaka, your honesty is much appreciated."

And with that one look Eris gave her, the freezing raw ice inside of Drew shattered. It was replaced with melancholy, because the doubting look the reporter gave her told it all: I don't believe you, but since you're innocent and naive—even though you don't think so, you stupid thing!—I'll pretend to.

Instead of the tears that were slowly building up from unimaginable pain that would soon bring her pride tumbling, she straightened her posture, grinned widely, and let the venom escape her words like never before.

"Of course, if only honesty saved your relationship."

Eris was vain. She was a cheater. She thought of chaos like her best friend when only it thought of her as a stick, charred and leaving behind ashes, soon to disintegrate when the fire burns her wholesome. When she slept with people other than her husband, she relished in it.

So it shouldn't have been a surprise when he saw it posted on Facebook. And she shouldn't have seen it as a surprise when karma hit her.

Of course, Drew Tanaka was famous for her vulgar language as she was beautiful.

[ arrival reason : signified ]

"STOP IT," she hissed.

"What?" the fellow teenager, although less fortunate than Drew with riches and beauty, was no less spiteful. Her hand dangled above the cup of clear, clean water that Drew had barely enough energy to take. "You want the water, oh well, I'm sorry, your majesty."

Lou Ellen, a sassy, sarcastic, cynical asshole—or in Drew Tanaka's words. Other people might find her entertaining or hilarious, although it may have been because her and Drew were like lost sisters with their spiteful personalities.

With dark, almost clear skin scarce for the acne, and curly fro that was, with difficulty, in a gelled ponytail, Lou Ellen was attractive—although her dark eyes could've made up almost all of it before, basically screaming temptation with the long lashes and dark eye that could stare through you; now bloodshot and almost dead.

"Just give it, Lou Ellen, or I won't be half as nice when it's your turn," she hissed, the hoarse tone of her voice scratchy and raspy, almost screaming for the water.

"Mm hm." She sounded dazed, and her bloodshot gaze finally eased as she handed the cup to the Asian model. "Don't enjoy it too much or you can't handle the feast tonight." She winked at Drew, who looked away in disgust as she drank the water.

Annoyingly, it didn't ease the churning that didn't relent as she finished the water. However, she felt more easy as she sighed, the lingering effects of that time—that time she…God, she thought, that was sick.

"Problem in paradise?"

"Yeah, it's called Lou Ellen."

Said person snorted and looked at the time, a sardonic smile growing on their lips. "Hey, half an hour until our first dinner here—awesome, right?" Standing up, she clapped suddenly, her gaze faltering as it landed on Drew.

"What."

"You're going to look like that in front of the cameras?"

"Hey." She brushed back her stray hairs, formerly glossy and straight, now slightly frizzy and in front of her face. "You're the junkie who's suffering from murderer's withdrawal."

Lou Ellen rolled her eyes, obviously not shocked at the slightest at the mention of her bloody job and the things she did for the sake of alcohol and crime. Instead, she cleared her throat, the sunken cheeks prominent.

"Oh, please, you're the one who let the whole world know about your younger sister's rape and depression."

She grinned falsely.

"I'm not a backstabber; it's too messy."

Snorting, Drew Tanaka took a brush from the table next to her sterilized chair, brushing her hair. A few hours in this process, and she was already looking less of herself and more like someone who was cosplaying a junkie who was a skunk hybrid that lived in the slumps of New York.

She just wanted to be over with this and it wasn't even the first day in. Looking around the white room that had startling white hospital ceiling lights hanging above them, she looked at the table with disgust.

"Seriously?" she hissed under her breath but Lou Ellen caught it.

"Yeah. There's cotton balls, I have no idea what they're for. Do you know?" she asked innocently, her voice lathered with artificial sweetness. Adding on to it, she bitchfully—that wasn't a word, but now it is—fluttered her eyelashes.

"No," Drew lied, the image burning in her mind.

Days—hours of it—inhaling cotton balls and washing it down with orange juice. Rulers and measurements, weights, scanning, surgeries—beauty. Obsession. Cotton balls, throwing up, your insides outside now, and toilets suffocating in the puke. Inhaling sharply, she took the note that had her name fancily written on the paper.

Opening the note, she read it.

no need to fancy yourself up! just leave & get ready for dinner to meet your fellow special guests!

-1:00 AM

"Well, I mean, fuck you too," she mumbled and Lou Ellen snickered. "Fellow special guests? Like, what. More noisy reporters and shit? I didn't sign up for this—I'm just innocent, only wanting to get this over with! I don't kill people, I don't cheat, I don't scam!"

"You ruin lives; such inspiration."

She wasn't even being sarcastic; Lou Ellen relished the ideas of ruining someone's life especially if it was one of those snobby, rich models who were Barbies and envy of half the teen girl population. Drew knew how much Lou Ellen hated her and she didn't even feel remorse to say it was mutual.

Scrutinizing the pristine white tiles, she looked at the dirty slippers she was wearing and scrunched up her nose with disgust. Seriously? Ugh. She hated acting. Especially for this, with a murderer as a roommate—that must've been illegal somewhere.

"Where should we go?" Drew inquired, choking down the annoyance of having to relive that moment again. They told her they just wanted to study models and why not her, the most beautiful of them? Plus, a documentary of her—more money, win win, right?

Wrong.

This was getting annoying and she was only hours in. Scowling, she sucked in her breath, and turned to Lou Ellen, "Well?"

"This way, Your Majesty," the African American commented sarcastically, walking past Drew as she opened the door with ease, picking the lock in a second as if it was nothing. Not recoiling as it slammed against the wall, opening, she stormed off into the hallway.

"How do you know?" Drew demanded.

"Well, darling, they told me once I came. I'm supposed to help you and shit, yeah?" She grinned plausibly, knowing fully well that Drew wasn't those type of people who went loner—it just wasn't her style. "So follow me if you don't want to die."

She couldn't tell if Lou Ellen was joking, but then again, the girl was incredibly morbid. Shooting the wall a dirty look, she followed her, walking past familiar a hotel-seeming hallway that was so unlike the room she awoke from.

The shabby green carpet was smooth under the thin material of the slippers and the cheap light ceiling accented the whole "I'm-On-A-Road-Trip-And-I'm-So-Fucking-Desperate" look. Surveying the hall with disgust, she followed Lou Ellen reluctantly.

Then she stopped in front of a door suddenly, with Drew close behind, slightly smirking at Lou Ellen's slight tumbling.

"What's so funny?" said girl hissed and Drew recoiled. Smug, Lou Ellen knocked on the door loudly, prideful of the fact that she even made Drew listen to her. "Open up! Open up right now!" she yelled, knocking on it violently, her gloved hands making sharp contact with the dark wood that fit against her dark skin.

"Well, that's polite," Drew commented loudly, her sarcasm thick. "Wouldn't want to scare them, huh, Hun?"

"You don't even know who they are, Princess. They can kill you."

That shut her up, much to the delight of Lou Ellen. The door opened, revealing a thin, tall teenager that had a shifty look in his eyes. His cheekbones were high and his skin was deadly pale, with crescents under his eyes, bloodshot and scrutinizing the two girls in front of him.

His shirt was ripped across his shoulder and it was a dirty orange, large on his skinny frame as well as the blue jeans he wore.

"Hey?" his voice was scratchy and Drew looked at him with disgust at the smell of drugs that radiated from his breath. "Well? And who's the Asian?"

She recoiled at the comment, not detecting any sarcasm or signs of any racism. Trying to seem as intimidating as possible, she said, "I'm Drew Tanaka, daughter of Aphrodite, heard of me? Or by the looks at it, people don't talk about fashion where you're from?"

He locked his jaw tightly, "Where I'm from, girls like you can't survive a day."

"Can't imagine that, Hun. I mean, who heard of awful breath killing anyone?" she smiled sardonically, the words shooting at him like fire, burning up his already heated up anger. Next to her, Lou Ellen stepped between, defensive.

"Drew. Stop it. For fuck's sake, your bitchy attitude might have got you around places—"

"Like some guy's pants," Cecil coughed and Drew snarled at him, immediately disliking the druggie washed out ferret.

"—but not here." She flashed Drew a sarcastic smile. "Because you don't want Cecil to be your enemy, unless you like the idea of being cheated off your life?"

She snorted. Him? As her enemy? As if, she scoffed. He couldn't cheat people as good as her; she could practically ruin everyone's reputation with just one sentence; she could make him do anything. Smiling, she finally said, "Oh, Cecil doesn't mind, do you?"

Her silky voice was one of her greatest weapons; it was a cannon, and she knew best how to fire it. He shook his head and Lou Ellen surveyed him aghast, as if he betrayed her.

They were interrupted by someone that fell on the hallway behind Cecil. As if he knew who it was, he sighed deeply, an exasperated look on his face. Seeing it as a chance to ignore Lou Ellen, she walked past Cecil and bent down to a lanky blonde teenager that was scrawled on the floor.

When he looked up as she was crouching down, his grey eyes drowsily looking up at her, scanning her with a sort of intensity that reminded her of the genius named Athena. His blonde hair was brushed to neatness and barely reaching his ears, out of place.

His mouth opened slightly, in a wondrous sort of expression, "Why are there angels in hell?" he asked tiredly.

First thought: was this who she thought who he was? Second thought: God, he's cute—like, really adorable, like a puppy? A golden retriever. Yeah.

"We're called beautiful devils," she replied, with a tone of amusement and flirtatious. Hey, she thought, she could use advantage of this situation? "Name?"

"Malcolm Chase?"

Well.

The little good-boy of Athena, that had an IQ almost as high as Drew's standards. Who probably was as innocent as he was intelligent. His half-sister was Annabeth Chase, and she remembered vaguely of his birth father that died of suicide from extreme pressure.

Ironic.

"Why are you here, Chase? Chasing after some dreams, as usual?" she jokingly asked.

"No—uh. Wait. Dang it. You're…you're Drew! Drew Tanaka! That model that—why are you even here?" Gasping, he looked away from her with shock. "You…the incident! They found out about—"

"No." Hm. Nevermind. He was seriously annoying—too smart, honestly, yelling out her business. "They want to make a documentary about me, a model." She smiled sweetly and smartly. "How about you?"

"I…I, uh, cheated." He swallowed with shame, his pale face burning with shame. "I thought I could get away with it…but…"

She crowed, hardly believing it. Golden boy? Cheating? This was hilarious! "Oh my God!" she laughed loudly. "You cheated! On what? On some practice vocabulary pre-test? Because you studied?"

"No. I changed my records. My legal…life records."

Holy shit. He hacked? This was insane. She could use it…huh, use it to get a ticket out of here? she thought wistfully, sneaking another flirtatious look at the boy who was laying down still. This won't be hard, she thought gleefully.

First, trick him.

She done it before to oh so many people it was hard to count now, honestly. And this bait? This would be easier than walking across a catwalk with two inch heels in bright LED lights with her mother's mouth taped.

"Well. Malcolm, I must've underestimated you then, huh?" She stood up like a swan, straight and gracefully after many years of modeling. Holding out a hand for him to take, she gripped it tightly as his weight was pushed to her, standing up clumsily with difficulty.

His hand was soft and it sent warm waves throughout her arm. God, she was so deprived of people she understood it felt foreign.

Groaning suddenly, she realized how much a few hours changed her.

His face was an infrared color as he stood up, brushing his pants. "Thanks, Drew."

Suddenly, Lou Ellen scoffed, "Well, I see you met Ms. I'm-Perfect, Malcolm. Back off, she'll probably snatch upon you like a junkie to morphine."

"Don't you know all about that?" Drew asked sweetly, her voice laced with sarcasm. Her gaze wandered around the room, spotting a small camera. She hid the pride at finding; of course there would be cameras, why wouldn't there be? They were recording them? Good. She'll give them a show.

"Yeah. We do," Cecil agreed sardonically, clearly accepting the blunt truth. "Ad you must know all about cotton balls, huh?"

Clearly, some fucked up murderer informed him that and Drew silently relished the idea of locking her hands around her throat and suffocating her. Flipping her hair, trying to shove away the thought of being embarrassed, she grinned.

An A-Model grin that brought even Malcolm blushing even though it wasn't directed about that.

"Hun, at least I know about things besides how many milligrams I should take of pills to not kill myself. Word of advice." She leaned in to Cecil, a glint in her eye that could be matched to a murderer. "Do it anyways."

There was a deadly, lingering silence before Malcolm's voice broke it, like a stop to a record: "Well, shouldn't we go eat dinner now, huh?"

.

.

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a/n: first chapter in! whooop! awesome! anyways, i hope you enjoyed this chapter and story so far! the chapters will have two parts each, example:

1:00 AM [legal]

1:00 PM [illegal]

and so on? review, favorite, and follow if you enjoyed it bc feedback would be great! allonsy!