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╰┈➤❝ [then you became the skin of all i am.] ❞ ╰┈➤ elaine feinstein
A SOFT SIGH ESCAPED HER LIPS AS SHE SMOOTHED DOWN HER DRESS. It was an elegant silk periwinkle that hugged her curves - what little she had. You need to eat more, her father said. You need to stop eating so much, her mother said. Biting her bottom lip, she tugged at the soft fabric. Soft purple eyeshadow highlighted her brown eyes. She hated these events. They were always so shallow. Not that she wasn't shallow. She'd just rather not put on a show to the masses like she wasn't. It was hard not to be a little shallow when you were rich. Maybe that's why she didn't have many friends. Or maybe it was because no one liked her. So many possibilities.
"Siobhan!" Her father shouted from down the stairs. "We need to leave!" A deep sigh dripped from her lips as she neared her bedroom door, slipping on a pair of black heels and reaching for her perfume. It was floral and summery - one of her favorite seasons. As much as she loved the rain, she found herself yearning for the sun. Pushing pieces of her dark hair out of her face, she pulled her door open and made her way down the stairs. Both of her parents waited at the bottom of the stairs, their outfits more regal than hers. Her mother, quite a tall woman, wore a long black, velvety dress that accentuated the pearls her father had given her for Christmas ten years ago. Her father wore a classic black suit with his own father's silver cuff links. "We're already running late, Siobhan. Please do try to shorten your dressing process in the future."
Rolling her eyes, she followed them out of the mansion. Hers and her mother's heels clicked against the stone stairs that led towards the black cars waiting for them. Pulling out her phone, she opened a text from her friend - her only friend - Phoebe. 'This place sucks,' read the woman's text. A small smile grew on her glossy lips as she began typing her reply, climbing into the back of the car with her parents. 'Omw.'
"You'll never believe what Foster told me at the shareholder meeting." Her mother began. Her voice droned on and on as she recounted whatever business meeting she'd had earlier that day. None of it interested Siobhan. She didn't care about business. Her index finger reached up to gently rub the corners of her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. "You're gonna get wrinkles, Siobhan." Her mother lightly smacked the young woman's hand before returning to her story.
Settling against her seat, Siobhan watched the city pass by her window. It'd become nearly unrecognizable in recent times. With Thomas Wayne's 'Renewal' project thrown to the wayside, Gotham had become a rat's nest. A cesspool for the worst. But were they really the worst? Or were they just products of their environment? Before her mother yanked her from college, she'd taken a sociology class that almost felt targeted towards her - like they were trying to subliminally tell her to change the city for the better. But what power did she have? Until her parents kicked the bucket, she didn't have any power of her own. She hadn't even had enough power to stay in college. Her mother called it a waste of time and money, that she'd inherit the company when the time came anyway.
