riot

Wait, I thought you were on them — considering the fact that you’re dumb.

I am totally dumb, but not on drugs, sadly. It'd be way easier talking to you if I was tripping on some shit right now. 

But if we’re being literal, no. I don’t think the librarian wants to murder me. Still, she does give me the creeps.

I still don't get why you think she's creepy though. 

Just wondering, are you on any drugs? If so, where can I get said drugs because that shit seems strong as hell. 

Exactly how I know nothing about your bank account, you don’t know anything about my earnings. You really need to work on your comebacks, ASAP. I’ll write you up your own check, so then maybe you can go find a good plastic surgeon. It’s okay if you want to be me.

Do you know what dyslexia is? I don't think you do. I know you're a greedy child living off her parent's backs, that I know. If anyone needs to work on their comebacks it's you, but I suppose you could just have daddy pay someone to write them for you. 

I’m here to clearly earn my degree in fashion. It’ll be much easier for me to become a famous stylist and take over the spot of Jeanie Mai on The Real, because I’m better. Don’t hate me because your bank account isn’t filled with a couple of thousand dollars.

That...didn't make any sense. Is this a fake account? Am I talking to some lonely stoner or something? Fashion, huh, do they even accept delusional people as fashion designers? But I don't hate you for being rich or anything, I don't hate you at all, it's kind of annoying how you're just relying on money you didn't earn, and you know nothing about my bank account. I actually have a job and my parents don't totally hate me. 

Well, obviously. Who would want to be in a pair of shoes from Payless? Unless you have Red Bottoms on, you bet I’d love to be in your shoes. But just like everybody else here, you cannot afford Red Bottoms.

Do you actually think that I thought you were a female dog? Do you seriously think that? You do know dogs can't type, right? I sure as hell can't afford to buy fancy ass shoes, not all of us lives off our parent's backs y'know. Why are you even in school anyways? You could just stay at home and die alone in your stupid louboutins rather than stress yourself out with finals and actual work. 

Ohoho, bitch can bark, probably can't bite though. My life is plenty interesting, and it kind of pleases me to know you wouldn't last a day in my shoes. And I'm betting you're thinking 'well yeah, because my shoes are versace and yours aren't' and blah blah blah. Am I right?

A piece of paper sticking out from underneath Lauren’s bed catches Brook’s attention, as well as her interest. She tries to be sneaky about it as she kneels onto the floor and tugs at the paper, spotting that it was a draft of an essay, and there it was in the heading, in all its glory. Brookyln finally had a name. Lauren Voss. Even her name was attractive. “Lauren?” Brook called out, giving it a test-run, just in case, for whatever reason, she was holding that draft person for someone else. It could have been her roommate’s for all Brook knew. Brook swung her backpack off her shoulders and onto the ground, waiting to hear what she hoped would be a positive response.

“So,” Lauren’s focus went to taking the cap off of the rum bottle, she could never quite get it off with ease “tell me about yourself. What’s your major, backstory, family life, favorite movies, anything.” Her words moved smoothly and softly even while she looked like she was about to break the bottle before finally flipping off the cap. Her next move was to take a swig of it and move her gaze to the girl in front of her.

Judgmental, greedy, and bitchy aren't great ones either. Again, those traits are your problem, not mine. 

  You’re so weird.

It was sarcasm. Do you not understand sarcasm? Would you like me to be fully literal with what I mean?