𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋; percy jackson

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

AUGUST 24th. 1959.

      BRANDY MONROE has been the talk of the town. With it only being two years into the beginning of her career the young star has acclaimed more popularity then some of the oldest Hollywood pioneers.

       Taken word for word from her interview regarding the newest film she starred in, Breakfast at Tiffany's, the renowned film which took the world by storm landed her an Oscar nominee and here's what the soft spoken beauty had to say about it. "I've never truly been the center of attention, as one would say, my life has solely been structured around my sister and for as long as I could remember I was fine with that. Popularity and my pure existence never made that much of a pair, if I'm being honest. I've always been quiet, you know, soft spoken."

      She was humble and chose her words with great care, like she was afraid of saying the wrong thing. From the moment she was the main article in the blinding spotlight there has been many attempts to try and bring her down. Some think that they have succeeded, with finding out the truth of this stars birth—

       Brandy slammed the article shut. A blushing mess in designer clothing, garments that cost thousands of dollars only seemingly constricting her blood flow. 
    
       Her red lips quivered at the last line because here she was, at the Oscars, hidden in a bathroom stall. She grasped at the pearls wrapped around her neck, each pink fossil could never be missing from her skin. The public signified it at innocence and faith, they thought that each pearl was a message from heaven, sent to bless her, to save her from the sin of being illegitimate. Bobbi had to refrain from ripping the necklace off her dainty neck but she couldn't be seen without them. She stared at her bruised palms, everyone wears pearls, where's their metaphorical analysis?

       She cursed her mother. She cursed her father for being so lousy. She cursed the press who where probably waiting outside the powder room as she clasped and unclasped her Chanel purse.

       It was true she was quiet, her life a practical mystery. Apparently Hollywood loved secrets, and despised them at the same time.

       She swallowed back a fearful tear, getting to her feet amongst the wobbles in her red bottom kitten heels.

       She looked at the mirror, a flushed mess staring back at her, an embarrassment. The young girl fished for powder out of her bag, hoping for the translucent shine to fix her broken complexion. Her fears breaking through the cracks of her foundation.

      As she swept the powder puff under her blue eyes she tried to settle her bone marrow, she was being juvenile, a brat, she felt foolish in her own flesh and as boundless as the infinite seas. A shaky hand reached down into her purse once more, fishing out her Bésame lipstick, hoping another coat would conceal whatever words tumble out her mouth if she has to go onto the stage and accept an award for something she didn't deserve.

She pouted, the moment the rouge touched her lips she was spoiled.

Then someone walked through the door.

      "Brandy Monroe," a sultry voice spoke over the echo her heels made. The woman walked behind her, brunette hair, eyes envy green, a celestial glow choking Brandy as she stared at her in the mirror.

      Brandy looked down at her lipstick, twisting it until it reached its full potential then drew it back. "May I help you?"

       The woman smiled, her white teeth blinding the suspicion in Brandy's brain. "Darling, you don't recognize me?"