πhispers have been following the two around for days now. Weeks, even. It seems Jennifer has a certain knack for disguise. It doesn't surprise her that she's able to fit in everywhere, [IT'S NOT LIKE IT WAS DIFFICULT BACK AT HOME EITHER.] But in a world full of limousine carpools to school every morning, Sunday obligations for nothing but brunch, and lingerie that costs more than her Mom's car, she can't help but surprise herself: fitting in with Louis Vuitton & Dior patrons, while dressed in Juicy Couture and Von Dutch. Appreciated by none other than, New York City's very own "IT-GIRL!", Jennifer finds it trivial to be doubting her own wardrobe choices. That's precisely why she's happy with her pink corset top, micro-denim Diesel skirt, and suede fringe-trimmed boots β although the latter doesn't count. [THEY WERE A GIFT FROM SERENA HERSELF.] Her hair is blow-dried bouncy tonight, in hopes that when photographed with Serena Van Der Woodsen, her raven locks will eclipse the blonde's effortless volume, and all eyes will swoon for her instead. A strange way of thanking her for her hospitality, taking Jennifer under her wing like that, but the blonde should already be familiar with: [THE SCORN OF A WICKED BRUNETTE.] *
π°t's not even midnight yet, and Jennifer's wasted. With a beast residing within, you'd think the lightweight could handle her liquor, but it's quite the opposite. The high is different to a human's however, considering that the room may be spinning, but she's still fully aware of her surroundings. She can tell Serena's past the point of no return, [IT'S NOT SO DIFFICULT TO GET SERENA AT THAT LEVEL!] but Jennifer finds it somewhat endearing. Perhaps it's the soft coo of her voice, or the way her eyes become siren-like once intoxicated, causing a flutter or two within the demon's stomach β she appreciates the way Serena looks at her. It reminds her of a past lover, (one she refuses to dwell on.)
@serenvy, πerena: " I'm way too drunk to lie to you. "
πlossy lips spread, a smile appearing onto fresh skin. The way her eyelashes flutter, cyans peer bright, & there's a sheen glow from her cheekbones β [JENNIFER'S RECENTLY FED.] Which means, tonight is purely for the sake of fun. β Whaaaaat. And here I thought, you would never lie to me. β Her voice becomes softer towards the end, not exactly quiet but more so, restrained & sweet. Their knees graze against eachother under the table, a hot-pink fingernail twirling around her cocktail straw. She's had four Cherry Tequila Swizzles, and is prepared for another, but not until she gets the nod from "S". Before anything can continue, Jennifer must distract once again, a mix of alcohol & a white powdery substance causing herself to play. β If it makes you feel any better, I never slept with him either. Last I heard, he took a charter back to LA. β [THAT'S NOT TRUE β HE'S ROTTING IN THE BACK OF HER APARTMENT.] Jennifer takes a maraschino cherry from the bottom of Serena's glass, and lets it hang between her two teeth, the gloss of her lips sticking to it tight. Cyans peer up at Serena once again, and she can see that someone's spotted the both of them from behind. She enjoys the chase, the (minor) fame, the decadent attention. So she milks it, the fuzzy warmth of the busy bar doubling.
β Looks like we've got an audience. β Voice is low, unamused, tamed. That is, until she gently slips the cherry out of her own lips, and lets it hang between herself and the blonde. Without realising, Jennifer's moved a little too close to Serena, lips inches apart. She doesn't mind, and she's sure the blonde doesn't either β [IT'S NOT LIKE THEY HAVEN'T DONE THIS BEFORE.] β What do ya' say, S? βββ
Shall we give them a show? β
