Damn that Lynn.
Damn her.
She planned this.
I Goddess damnit know it.
I bet she was the one that planned this whole damn guilt trip for Father to plan this whole damned thing. Just to get me a damn boyfriend. I mean damn...
I storm down the stairs unaware of my surroundings and I almost slam right into Margaret and Rebecca, returning from our parents' seperate brunches.
Rebecca rushes past me, her face red in what seems like shame. Margaret visibly looks drained but she still pats Rebecca on the shoulder sympathetically and flashes me a empathetic smile. She lets Rebecca rush past me, she'll most likely scold her later for not adressing me.
"Rebecca!" Lynn screeches from her room and Marge and I both jump. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!" She resumes to scold in a quieter and more sinister voice. I hear a quiet sound that sounds like choked sobs that I know comes from Rebecca. Poor girl.
I sigh and Marge notices. Her face contorts in a sort of concern. "My love, are you well?" she places a hand on either side of my face, stroking my cheeks with her pudgy thumbs. And as degrading a position it might seem, I love the protection this motion covers me with. My face flushes and I smile dreamily.
"I need to take a walk, Marge-" Before I could get my request out of my mouth, Margaret nods in understanding.
"And you need me to cover for you, I know, Poppet" She gives me her heart-warming smile and she kisses me on the forehead quickly before heading upstairs.
God I love that woman.
"LYNN." I call from the bottom of the stairs loudly, not caring who hears. The silence is deafening as Rebecca and Lynn have both shut up. Lynn pops her head around the corner that leads to the stairs.
"What? I'm busy." Lynn snaps at me, apparently still fuming.
"We're going out." I say simply, lowering my voice for any snitch workers that Lynn hasn't filtered out of here.
Her eyes lighten as much as the tone of her voice. "Give me..." she looks back to her room and the hard cruelness reappears in her eyes, but she shakes it off and looks back at me. "Fifteen minutes? Meet you outside?"
I nod and give her a thumbs up. She leaves through her window, down a hatch that only us and our nurses know of. Today might be different. I can feel it.
I head down the stairs, not bothering to ask how Margaret'll manage to keep my disappearance a secret from my parents. As I reach the foyer, a thin, wispy voice comes from behind me, startling me. "Ashley? Is that you darling?"
I sigh and push a lock of messy curls behind my ear, fixing my posture and facing the terror that is my mother, the queen, Louisa Puivent DeCroise II.
I manage to surpress the shudder creeping along my neck when she adresses me by my supposed birth name. I've always resented it because I knew that I wasn't planned. Neither of us were. We were just a pregnancy scare that became twins. My parents named us Ashlynn before they found out that there was two of us in there. They just broke the name in two and pretended that they had planned the whole thing.
Damn liars.
Without missing a beat I reply, "Yes, Mom, it's me." with my beaming smile, I can bullshit my way through anything.
"Where are you off to in such a precarious time, love?" she croons almost drunkenly. I doubt she knows what being precarious means. I don't.
"Shrift." I reply almost mechanically. Shrift is almost identical to confession. It's one of the only places I can be out by myself. "Then I might run some errands." I add to the end. Mother loves when I get shit done for her. Even though she hires people for that.
She grins and snorts gleefully. "Excellent, look for a new dress while you're out. There are outstanding tailors amongst the commoners. I will see you tonight for the Masque. Look... decent." she comments, giving me a one-over before waving me off as I head out of the house. I'm wearing my deep brown cloak with the hood up over my head. My sundress still flashes brightly around the skirt. I feel her eyes bore into my back as I turn from her and head out.
I'm not all to sure where, but out.
