#imogenprinz

✫ / @imogen-prinz ›› making imogen’s parents believe that she’s bringing around her homework for a few subjects and going to help her study is easy; when you spend your weekends lying and playing a numerous amount of people a night, it doesn’t take long to perfect false sweetness and improvisation. as soon as scar shuts the door to her best friend’s room, she’s scoffing and quickly heading towards her needing to know exactly what went wrong in the big scheme of things. “girl, what the fuck went down? everything was fine and next i hear is geles attacked you.” she says it dramatically as if imogen hasn’t done anything wrong in the first place, considering that no matter what the blonde did scar would stick up for her. 

@imogen-prinz    /   standing in front of a beer pong table, there’s a small ball already sitting between two of her fingers.  if she counted on one hand how many times she’s played this game, the answer would be once.  and despite being no good at it, it’s a game she’s learned to enjoy  - and one easier on the iphone.  it took one glance at someone else eyeing the table to convince the brunette to raise her voice.  “imogen!”  it wasn’t out of anger or irritation, although she admits it was strange yelling that name in actual enjoyment.   but here she was.  she uses the palm of her hand to bang on the white table.  “you and me.”  two fingers used to point from her own eyes, directed towards the blond, a grin sliding over her pinks. “one v one, biatch ! i’ve been watching my fair share of youtube tutorials so, watch out.”

the emoji sent with her text message was merely used to soften the request but irene wouldn’t be surprised if it did the opposite.  pushing her phone in the pocket of her denim jacket, she leans her back on the bench and awaits a reply.

@imogen-prinz the fear that resided in irene at the thought of another queen bee hosted party was trembling, but it all seemed to disappear now.  for the time being she can exude nothing but mere happiness, the barriers that made her anxious once before were overran by joy, or ecstasy, rather. focused eyes zoom in on imogen from afar,  if she weren’t so filled to the brim with positivity she would have turned a corner and avoided the girl like she often does.  whilst the blonde queen bee was nice for a few weeks after the first party incident, it looked like things were going back to how they used to be. either way, instead she saunters towards her.  right now all she can think about is how soft imogen’s skin felt the first and last time they hugged, and she’s overwhelmed with a need to feel that softness again. so when she finally approaches she immediately grabs her into an embrace. “i missed you so much, immy.”

@imogen-prinz watching a true crime documentary about families who kill together didn’t do well for irene’s anxiety, especially since she was approaching the prinz residence, but she hoped it would prepare her.   she took extra measures to ensure if she gets murdered, it won’t be thrown along with the others.  her mom dropped her off, she sent her dad the address and told him what she’d be wearing, she told pj where she’d be at and put ‘it was the prinz’ in a drafted e-mail.  it was theatrical, sure, but it made her feel as safe as she can get.  she can only imagine the monsters who sat on the other side. anyone who had a hand in raising the blonde cheerleader who made walking down the halls a nightmare must have been just as evil, if not worse.  a blue folder is held in her hand, containing the chemistry homework, as she, with shaky fingers and an even shakier breath, uses one hand to text and send HERE to the blonde.

IRENE: Sorry for being a dick to you on twitter. I was practically antagonizing you and it was wrong. You've been serial-killer nice to me lately.