Realistic or Modern 𝕃𝕀𝕄𝔼𝕃𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋

[lvcid]

drama kid.

ember clairmont.

Watch

location

the party

outfit

click me!

interactions

sharkie

tags

Historia Calamatium

“I’m deeply sorry for my actions.”

Ember’s pained voice echoed through her phone speaker as she watched her and Viva’s apology video yet again. She had it memorized now, as if living through it the first time wasn’t bad enough. The blonde’s stature was rigid as she sat next to the other girl on a sofa, too close together for either of their comfort in the moment. At the 01:51 mark, Ember’s pale eyes shifted to something off-camera—her mother mouthing the words off-camera of an apology she’d written for her.

Iris had lots of experience in pretending to be sorry for her mistakes.

The video had garnered quite a bit of attention, more than Ember cared for, yet she couldn’t stop herself from coming back once every few hours to scroll through the comments.

‘I don’t believe her. She doesn’t look sorry.’

‘I thought she was an actress?? This is the worst performance I’ve ever seen…’

With a frustrated groan, Ember tossed her phone aside.

Her life was so over.

The only reason Ember was being allowed out of the house for this party at all was because, technically-speaking, it was a family affair, and any Clairmont knew that skipping those were a criminal offense. Ember couldn’t say she always agreed with that sentiment, but tonight, she was grateful for the mindset. She’d grown weary of trudging through the daily routine that had become her exasperating lifestyle since the gala: wake up, go to school, come home—broken up only by meals and sleep. Every day was the same, from start to finish, and if not for tonight, Ember was sure she would’ve finally reached a breaking point, boredom and madness consuming her whole until she was nothing but a pile of tired, dusty bones.

Her own house was two doors down her cousins’—a decision Ember had never quite been able to understand, as she couldn’t wait for the day she could separate herself from her twin, but without a license or a car to her name, the convenience of proximity wasn’t lost on her now as she made the short walk.

Ember was as fashionably late as ever despite lack of distance being in her favor. The party was in full-swing, music blasting through the door each time it swung free from its place to let a drunken straggler out to join the few others that had already made a home for themselves on the lawn. Whether they were waiting for rides or simply in need of fresh air was unclear, but the blonde didn’t bother stopping to ask as she stomped by. Among the intoxicated teens, a few crumpled cups littered the yard as well, and Ember had to step over a crushed can on her way inside.

“God, this place is a mess,” she muttered disapprovingly.

Ember had been to the Caplan-Clairmont residence more times than she could count; she had no trouble finding her way around, even with the addition of people so adamantly blocking her way and one too many Halloween decorations.

“Hello? I said ‘move’!” The blonde shooed away the boy dressed in a badly-sewn Deadpool costume that’d been clinging to the refrigerator door like a lifeline. “If you’re gonna puke,” she called over her shoulder as she watched him stagger away, “do it outside!”

Ember wrenched open the fridge door, taking stock of her options. She finally settled on a strawberry Fanta—she couldn’t risk drinking tonight; she was already on the outskirts of her parents’ good graces, and she couldn’t bear the thought of being banished further. The blonde straightened, allowing the door to fall shut, and poised to take a sip, but she paused at the sight of a familiar face having suddenly materialized in the space the refrigerator door had been only moments prior.

“What do you want, Sharkboy?” Ember lowered the can with a scowl. “I mean, I know the pink is misleading and all, but if you’re looking for someone to be your Lavagirl, keep moving. Don’t you have some other poor, helpless girl to bother?” The blonde snapped the fingers of her free hand, as if coming to a sudden revelation. “You should go find my sister—if you squint your eyes, we look exactly alike, and you can pretend it’s me when she tells you to fuck off.” Ember’s faux smile dropped as she moved to shove past Mateo.

Of course, the blonde knew her cruel words would have little effect on Sharkie—they never seemed to. His incessant pestering was only ever met with insults, yet he kept coming back for more.

“Masochist.”