The Chained Princess (h.s.)

Star VIII

(If you like this star, give it a star! [shut up, I think I'm clever] <3)

-Andromeda-

This week has gone by all too quickly, mostly because I really do not want Prom to come. All the pictures, videos, I'm so over it, honestly, but I was excited to finally meet Eleanor, to expand my friendship circle to a grand total of two. I'm still not sure about Charlie, I had to bail her out of juvie and she didn't even thank me for not getting my drunkard mother involved.

Pulling up to the driveway, Charlie wordlessly got out and went straight to her room. I followed in slowly, wearing a different pair of shoes everyday hurts immensely. My outfits keep catching attention though, today was a blue velvet crop top and a black tulle skirt. Cleavage feels so weird, it's very drafty up there, but that's where most of the eyes from those horndogs go. And if I can't be skinny, I can have a great rack, I guess.

"Mom, are you here?" I called. I'm surprised the woman hasn't had a heart attack from me not speaking to her for over 24 hours. Although, she has been drunk for 20 of them...when isn't she?

"Andromeda, lovely! I'm glad you're here! I'm in the kitchen preparing dinner."

I shoved my boots off and followed her shrill voice into the kitchen where she was barking the dinner order to Greta.

"Yes, Mees Cassondra." The stout woman curtsied and bumped into me trying to escape my mother, blonde hair flying out of her bun. She worriedly looked up, blue eyes frantic.

"Oh! Mees Andy!" The middle aged woman instantly calmed when she saw me.

"Always a pleasure, Greta." I smiled, being civil in front of my mother, who didn't notice as she poured herself a glass of wine. So I slipped Greta another ten and we fist bumped.

"Oh, Gret, same as always for dinner please," I smiled. Greta looked worried, but smiled. One thing I like about her is she doesn't ask any questions, even though I'm sure she knows, she trusts me to make my own choices.

She scurried off and my mom set her wine glass on the kitchen table, turning to me with a plastic smile that suddenly went dim.

"Dear," she spoke softly, "What on Earth are you wearing?"

I surveyed my own outfit, becoming a little anxious.

"Um, blue velvet. Funny, that's actually a song-"

"Why aren't you in Ralph Lauren? You might as well be wearing clothes from a-a thrift shop!" My mother's head shook slightly and I didn't know what else to do except smile awkwardly. Suddenly, Cassandra Arquette's expression turned into a loving, sympathetic one and she slowly walked towards me as if E.T. found home.

"I know why, I've been neglecting you. Oh honey, you don't need to dress like a-a-a floozy to get me to notice you! You are my little Drom-Drom, don't make yourself less than that!"

She enveloped me in a Chanel-scented hug and I fought the urge to groan as I patted her back. God, is she crying?

"I'm fine mom, I actually wanted to tell you, Prom is tomorrow-"

"Are you going?!" She gasped, desperately happy and detaching herself from me.

"Well, no, but I just wanted to let you know I'm going to Lou's to see him off, so, yeah."

My mother's face fell. "Oh, right, okay. I have to work, so send me pictures. You know, you'd probably get a date if you weren't so quiet, boys are probably intimidated by you."

She took a sip of wine, ignoring my facial expression.

"Have you put on a little around the waist?" She casually said.