"Harlot Scarlet" I read. Typical of my sister to wear shades like that.
Except somehow it would look classy instead of trashy. I put down the nail
varnish and walked across the open plan flat to the kitchen area, all
chrome and ash. Bright shiny and sleek. So her.
The whole flat was city chic. The wood of choice was varying shades of ash and the only separate rooms were the bedroom and bathroom. The colours were white, black and silver with slashes of colour here and there. Take where the sofa was. White and ash sofa, chrome table, black TV and a bright red circular red rug. Nothing seemed out of place though, all fitted like pieces of a puzzle. I'd always admired my sisters life because it always fitted. She moved from thing to thing seamlessly. Even when one part shattered she found solace in the rest, and moved on in days. No problem was unsolveble and no mountain unclimbable. Whether it was death, the end of a relationship, or losing her job, she'd cope. What didn't kill you etc. right?
With me though, well I couldn't bounce back like her, things affected me which is why I always admired, and envied my baby sis. Everything fell on her lap, jobs, relatioships, money. Me, I'd had to spend years working the indie feds, desperately clawing my way to the top, then she comes to WWE party, and gets spotted. I don't want to say it but..its so unfair. Even then I couldn't deny her this chance, which was why I was in New York on my day off, at the last known address of my younger sister.
Didn't look like she was in though. She's a fashion journalist which means she spends a lot of time shopping, partying and lazing then writes about it. Some how I don't think she'll want to give this up for what is being offered, but I do think the money may be better. And there's the fame thing, not that I enjoy being mobbed everywhere I go, but that always seemed like my sis's idea of fun.
On the table behind me I saw a picture of us, dressed for a charity ball. So she does love me. She'd probably just thought that she looked hot on it. As ever my sister outshone me. Her beauty is all natural. She had no tit job, doesn't dye her hair. Her hair is this amazing rich mahogany brown, with natural red low lights that caught the light sometimes. Her eyes aren't the dull musty brown that mine are, they are a deep brown with almost red flecks in them, and gold so they change colour even as you look at them That's why she's called Amber, because her eyes use to be almost orange. Unlike me surgery wasn't needed to enhance her figure, she was perfectly happy with her body, she was a cup size bigger than me to start.
At high school I used to be so jealous of her because if we went out it was always her who got hit on, not me, even though I was older. I still felt numbed by her presence, but she was my sister and I loved her. Now I wanted her help though and I knew she would play it up as much as she could. But then again I was used it. She knew how to make me squirm.
I turned back to the picture. I was in a long line pink dress, that slinkily clung to all the right places. It had made me feel so good, my hair and make up were all perfect, then the hired limo picked up Amber and she came down in this long blue shimmering vision, that seemed to be made of liquid, and fitted like a second skin without being too tight or trashy. Her hair was piled on the top of her head, carefully spun tendrils escaping around her face, and they were struck through with blue glitter, that twinkled and flashed in the light. As always she had outdone me!
I turned from the picture, my attention focusing on why I was here. Find Amber, ask her about the job, get an answer soon and get back to Vince before he found some one else. I wondered about where she could be, and almost jumped out of my skin when I heard a high pitched squeak.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a large metal cage. I looked in and jumped back letting out a little shriek of horror at the sight of the brown and white rat, lazily staring at me. The sound of the shriek must have been louder than I thought because it caused a stir form the adjoining bedroom. I looked up and saw my sister, Amber stood in the doorway, her hair a mess, random bits pointing everywhere. She rubbed her eyes then stretched her arms behind her head, causing the man's shirt she was wearing to rise even higher up. She blinked then looked at me again, finally recognising who I was. "Trish? What the MOF are you doing here?"
The whole flat was city chic. The wood of choice was varying shades of ash and the only separate rooms were the bedroom and bathroom. The colours were white, black and silver with slashes of colour here and there. Take where the sofa was. White and ash sofa, chrome table, black TV and a bright red circular red rug. Nothing seemed out of place though, all fitted like pieces of a puzzle. I'd always admired my sisters life because it always fitted. She moved from thing to thing seamlessly. Even when one part shattered she found solace in the rest, and moved on in days. No problem was unsolveble and no mountain unclimbable. Whether it was death, the end of a relationship, or losing her job, she'd cope. What didn't kill you etc. right?
With me though, well I couldn't bounce back like her, things affected me which is why I always admired, and envied my baby sis. Everything fell on her lap, jobs, relatioships, money. Me, I'd had to spend years working the indie feds, desperately clawing my way to the top, then she comes to WWE party, and gets spotted. I don't want to say it but..its so unfair. Even then I couldn't deny her this chance, which was why I was in New York on my day off, at the last known address of my younger sister.
Didn't look like she was in though. She's a fashion journalist which means she spends a lot of time shopping, partying and lazing then writes about it. Some how I don't think she'll want to give this up for what is being offered, but I do think the money may be better. And there's the fame thing, not that I enjoy being mobbed everywhere I go, but that always seemed like my sis's idea of fun.
On the table behind me I saw a picture of us, dressed for a charity ball. So she does love me. She'd probably just thought that she looked hot on it. As ever my sister outshone me. Her beauty is all natural. She had no tit job, doesn't dye her hair. Her hair is this amazing rich mahogany brown, with natural red low lights that caught the light sometimes. Her eyes aren't the dull musty brown that mine are, they are a deep brown with almost red flecks in them, and gold so they change colour even as you look at them That's why she's called Amber, because her eyes use to be almost orange. Unlike me surgery wasn't needed to enhance her figure, she was perfectly happy with her body, she was a cup size bigger than me to start.
At high school I used to be so jealous of her because if we went out it was always her who got hit on, not me, even though I was older. I still felt numbed by her presence, but she was my sister and I loved her. Now I wanted her help though and I knew she would play it up as much as she could. But then again I was used it. She knew how to make me squirm.
I turned back to the picture. I was in a long line pink dress, that slinkily clung to all the right places. It had made me feel so good, my hair and make up were all perfect, then the hired limo picked up Amber and she came down in this long blue shimmering vision, that seemed to be made of liquid, and fitted like a second skin without being too tight or trashy. Her hair was piled on the top of her head, carefully spun tendrils escaping around her face, and they were struck through with blue glitter, that twinkled and flashed in the light. As always she had outdone me!
I turned from the picture, my attention focusing on why I was here. Find Amber, ask her about the job, get an answer soon and get back to Vince before he found some one else. I wondered about where she could be, and almost jumped out of my skin when I heard a high pitched squeak.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a large metal cage. I looked in and jumped back letting out a little shriek of horror at the sight of the brown and white rat, lazily staring at me. The sound of the shriek must have been louder than I thought because it caused a stir form the adjoining bedroom. I looked up and saw my sister, Amber stood in the doorway, her hair a mess, random bits pointing everywhere. She rubbed her eyes then stretched her arms behind her head, causing the man's shirt she was wearing to rise even higher up. She blinked then looked at me again, finally recognising who I was. "Trish? What the MOF are you doing here?"