HEARTLESS AND IN LOVE.
An almost exemplary juxtaposition that is entirely Juna Van der Heeney. Incapable of emotion, all the while flooded with love and adoration. The fact still stands, however, that Juna is Queen Bitch. Not exactly a bully, per say, more so a perfectionist.
Lumped together in the back seat of her Daddy's limo, Juna and her two and a half friends sipped on the finest champagne she could smuggle without her mother noticing. The teenagers were entirely absent-minded, enjoying the company of one another. Not Juna.
She felt smothered in the presence of Keeley's brother (the half friend previously mentioned). Dimitri's ego itself was ostentatious enough to make her feel naesous—it was practically palpable. Slitting her eyes at the well-built boy, she begrudgingly slurped another drink of Veuve Clicquot and ground her teeth into her bottom lip ferociously.
It was entirely too stuffy in there with Dmitri.
"Juna, what's wrong?" Amelia, her most trusted companion inquired. Juna lifted a single blonde eyebrow before swallowing another serving of champagne. She hesitated, then returned to her conversation with the twins.
Her gown was entirely too Marilyn Monroe for her taste. Too provocative, in her opinion. The risqué of the haltered straps and low-dipping V-neck diverged far from my conservative wardrobe. Pearls and heart-shaped necklines were her forte.
Grace Kelly, galvanizer.
Dmitri had yet to even spare her a glance—he'd never. Not in front of anyone of upmost importance, anyways. Juna wished she could say she was disappointed, however the growing hole in her heart vaporized any responsibility to nurture her relationship with him. He was entirely too time-consuming, especially with high school graduation looming over their heads like storm clouds.
Instead of precipitation, it was the college experience.
The question of nurture versus nature had always rubbed Juna the wrong way; was she vindictive, cunning, and too cruel to be accepted by anyone outside her small circle because of her Daddy's neglect, or did sociopathic tendencies run through her veins?
She always chose the latter in the end.
Finally, the limo came to a halt in front of the Capitol. Discarding her glass, Juna waited for no one, not even the valet boy before she threw the door open and stepped onto the cobble sidewalk with the elegance of a swan. She was the epitome of perfection—a sneak peak into Heaven, as her past lovers would say.
Juna reeked confidence as she swayed her rounded hips, the white silk material sashaying with every click of her heels—Versace, a gift from her sister.
She completely disregarding her Amelia and Keeley. Juna was a very important guest and the moment security was alerted of her arrival, she was personally escorted into the ballroom. Hungry, affluent figures in American politics and co. flounced across the white marble floor, chit chattering about nothing.
She was completely uninterested.
Daddy told her to be here, and everyone does what Daddy tells them to do.
"Miss Van der Heeney," a familiar, although unregistering waitress curtsied at her. Juna barely acknowledged her and continued on her way towards the table she occupied once a year.
The annual Hemblers Gala was the biggest event in modern day politics—a close second to the election of the president. Anyone who was anybody in D.C. politics attended. Daddy, being a pretentious fool, requested her attendance every year since she could discreetly spread word on his campaign.
