I remember when we were kids; she had the most beautiful smile, unlike me who had braces for three years. Her hair was this beautiful dark brown that shown lightly in the sun and was always soft like silk. Her eyes were of the purist blue and they brought a smile to my face even thinking of her now.
“Collin, sweety.” Rosalyn called from her room, strapping on her new stiletto heels. I was amazed she could walk in them.
Rosalyn was nothing like Wren. Wren was a meek girl and so patient you could leave her waiting for her date for hours on end until where they were supposed to meet was closed and she would still not be mad when you made it there with roses in hand. She was a short, plain, typical girl next door.
Rosalyn had legs that went on forever and the perfect supermodel body and the perfect porcelain face. She knew she looked good as she fluffed up her unnatural, curly red hair and finished putting on her green eyeliner. I hated that eyeliner. It made her eyes all the more beautiful but that just made it worse when I had to drag her away from guys once she had had one to many beers. They flocked to her like she was a princess.
Her dress for tonight’s events was so short I had a feeling it wouldn’t stay down for long. It was a sickly yellow at the top and faded to a blue. There were bows on the bottom of each side, making it all the more tacky and the giant heart she wore looked more like the kind of decoration you’d put on the mirror of your car. I found it rather strange but some designer friend had made it for her. I think his name is Josh but I may be mistaken. But this was fashion in her life.
I opted for the typical suit. I don’t even know why I agreed to go to this party with her. It was already inevitable that I would be the one to drive her home once she was to stoned to walk, her dressy shoes thrown somewhere in one room or another.
“Are you ready, Collin? We have to be there at 8 o’clock!” She straightened her dress for the hundredth time like it would actually stay in place. “Do you have my purse? What about my cigarettes?” Yet another thing I hated about her.
“Yes. I have everything. Can we go now?” I probably sounded like I was two but when you were near Rosalyn you had to make yourself as simple as possible. She wasn’t stupid, far from it. She was just a bit to slow to wrap things into her head. I had already told her twice since we began to get ready that I had put her cigarettes in her purse.
As she ran over with some mousse I almost wanted to push her away. My hair was fine the way it was, unruly and covering my ears so I could listen to music as the party members listened to their music that sounded like a dieing cat. She pushed my hair down with the nasty foam, making it look more wavy then I’d ever prefer.
“Okay! Looks good.” She grabbed her purse from my hands and bolted towards the door. I’m surprised she didn’t trip over those horrid shoes that matched the blue in her dress. When I hesitated she waved her hand, urging me forward.
Why had I even started dating this woman? I was lonely… I always thought of Wren. How could I not? Even during sex I thought of Wren and not Rosalyn. I think somewhere inside her head she understood that I didn’t love her and it suited us both fine considering she slept around on me on so many occasions that I was surprised she could even go about life without feeling guilty. But I guess some women are like that.
I don’t know why on this particular day I had been thinking of Wren. I just remember walking down the street and smelling that horrid cologne that she liked and smiled to myself, thinking of the necklace I had made for her. I found myself wondering about that time, if she even still had it. I liked to think she did.
I may look her up tonight when Rosalyn is passed out in our bed; see if I can find her beautiful face again. If I find her I can finally send her the picture I had drawn for her so long ago. The picture of herself surrounded by butterflies had been wasting away in the closet with all my art supplies and sketchpads I hadn’t picked up since I moved in with the soon to be drunken vixen. I think it’s time for a bit of a change.
We reached the limo outside and Rosalyn squealed with joy to see her friends, Victoria and Zoey. They were hanging all over each other, drinks in hand. Both girls handed us glasses of wine when we sat down inside. Victoria and Zoey were the girls you knew had to be feminists.
Victoria couldn’t ever help looking like a whored doll. Short, frilly skirts and tight corsets were her major choice for an outfit and her tattoos across her chest and down her arms were all of dragons and flowers. Her chosen colors for the night seemed to be black and pink, perfect for her baby face. She is the perfect doll. Men loved her. She loved women. One thing I did like about Victoria was that she has always been loyal to Zoey.
Zoey is defiantly a character. She is a noble girl with droopy brown eyes that see all and are always happy. Her fine, wavy, blonde hair is shoulder-length and is worn in a delicate coronet at the back of her head. She is tall and has a thin build, not used to a heavy days work. Her skin is so pale. She has small hands that she uses in all of her fashion designs. Her wardrobe is always simple, and today she had chosen a black dress with a red belt. Her earrings are too big and look like giant jewels but they match her colorful tattoos, she looks pretty.
These are the people I am always with, pampered toys for the masses to admire. I am just an accessory for Rosalyn’s arm. These really aren’t the people I care for.
I miss Wren and the small town we lived in together for eighteen wonderful years, next-door neighbors, best friends and lovers. The lover part had only happened once right before she left for college. I was so afraid to lose her.
She wanted to go to college, see the world, have her name spoken by complete strangers because of her accomplishments. She wanted to be a writer, an artist, a model, a movie star, a singer and the perfect illustration for children to love.
I remember finding her sitting in the woods on a dead stump that I had carved our names on. She always seemed at peace near nature and animals. Like my very own Snow White. She had brought her ferret with her that day; he was trying to bury himself in the grass as she watched with that beautiful smile of hers. I had never liked the rodent but because she loved him so much I tolerated him, for her, for the girl I loved so much.
It’s kind of sad to say but I miss Nevan too. My little brother had always had a crush on Wren’s best friend Abigail so the four of us were always together at school. His hair wasn’t as wild as mine and his eyes were prettier. When his hair had been long everyone had mistaken him for a girl so he cut it all off. Abigail had chastised him for it because deep down she loved him too.
They had never gone out on a date and I doubt they have even now. Nevan has told me they live together as “friends” but that’s as much detail as he’ll give me. Abigail and Nevan actually lived right down the street from the college Wren went to and it was now just the three of them. I had been cut from the picture.
Abigail has apparently opened a club where she and her friends play guitar and sing for her customers. I plan to go there someday. She had never been a normal girl. Her gothic attire had scared most people away but Wren had never seen her differences, just her sweet nature. Abigail has never done drugs or drink as far as I know which makes me happy that I know she’ll never try to get Wren to start anything.
Nevan goes to her club every night to have one drink. It’s a strange ritual he started just so he could watch her. I had started calling him a stalker just after high school when he told me they had moved in together. He had denied it as much as he could but the blush had always told me differently.
It wasn’t like the club was that far away from the party we were going to go to now. Maybe about an hour. I don’t know why I had never traveled the short distance to find Abigail and Nevan, have them reunite me with Wren. Silly idea but it would be better then sitting around a bunch of uptight celebrities all night. Rosalyn wouldn’t notice anyway, Zoey and Victoria would keep her busy enough for me.
The car ride was pretty short and I was glad of it. Hearing girl’s gossip isn’t something I want to listen to everyday. The sex part of the conversation was interesting though. There is no guy in this world that wouldn’t want to hear about a lesbian’s escapades.
The crowd outside the club was loud and bothersome as they all tried to push into the seemingly already packed party. We didn’t even need to wait in line with Zoey being the big designer she was and Rosalyn being the ultimate symbol of sex. There were some perks to being friends with them. I still didn’t enjoy their music and having my headphones wasn’t working to well. I think it was actually worse than usual considering I had to be around so many strangers. It was uncomfortable and I felt like any minute I’d be pick pocketed.
I looked up on stage and saw some band I had never heard of. Their music was loud and obnoxious but the lead singer was a beautiful girl, similar in appearance to Rosalyn. As I looked around I realized it would be a long night. In one corner there were already druggies snorting some white substance that I couldn’t name and next to the bar the populous were already drunk off their asses.
When I felt someone tap me on the shoulder I decided to look even though I probably wouldn’t even know the person annoying me. Turning I saw the smiling face of a young Goth girl, Abigail. She smiled sweetly and hugged me with all her might.
“I didn’t know you’d be here!” She said, almost exasperated. “You should have told me.”
She was just as stunning as ever and her long black hair was pulled back with what looked like black pearls. She had contacts in that had turned her eyes a blood red color, which was a bit unsettling for me. She twirled to show me her dress; strapless and flowing down to her knees just above her combat boots. I think she’s had them since high school. It was actually a little showier than what she used to wear.
“What are you doing here?” I was a bit anxious, wondering if I might see Wren and not have to go looking for her. “Is Wren with you?”
She laughed a sweet little laugh that was rather girlish but sort of cute on her. Her dimples were illustrated on her perfect schoolgirl face as she looked around. I was hoping she was looking for Wren.
“Actually I’m here to play. The manager wanted me to sing in the show tonight.” She could tell I didn’t really care about that and she sighed heavily. “No. Wren isn’t here. Nevan is somewhere though. I brought him here with me.”
I let out a groan of frustration and she was a bit surprised.
“You really miss her don’t you?”
“Yeah. I really do. Where is my little brother? Are you guys going out yet?” I put my arm around her shoulder as she started leading me in the direction I guessed Nevan was in. She smiled at the floor and I could tell she was blushing.
“No, but we finally went on a date about three weeks ago.” She paused, trying to think of what to say next. “And we’ve started sleeping together. But it’s not official! We never actually said we were dating or anything.”
When we got close to the bar she skipped away and wrapped her arms around the shoulders of some guy. It wasn’t hard to tell it was Nevan. He looked like a younger me. It kind of made me feel old. She whispered something in his ear and he turned to look at me.
_________

Author's Note: This is not the finished first part. It's only what I have so far. I really hope I get some feedback on this becuase I need to know where to take this and any critics I would get would help a lot!
Love,
Damita

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