The very last thing that Christine Hill expected was the exponential success of Mötley Crüe-the band she loved to hate.
And she never would've surmised that she'd be dragged-kicking and fucking screaming, by the nape of her neck-along for the wilde...
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Warning: mentions of abuse, bodily harm.
It was growing on her, now. Red had always been her color, and she surmised that it wasn't that awful to see hues of cherry and crimson whenever she passed a mirror.
She quite liked it, actually.
She liked the comments and compliments heaved her way by the people that usually wouldn't have given her a second thought, and she especially liked how her hair harmonized with her signature glossy nails.
It was an accidental rebrand that she wasn't hating, though her mother most definitely was.
But Lilian's opinion didn't matter to her, then. Christine wasn't abiding by her rules, or answering to that wretched woman anymore, and she hardly found it in herself to care about what her mom said.
She didn't care what anybody said.
Not even Beth. Not anymore.
Regardless of how much she adored that woman, how much she yearned for her whilst she was away, Christine had somehow forgotten how neurotic her best friend had the propensity to be.
How she was so domineering and obstinate when it came to Vince, or Christine, or even anything, really.
That woman--despite her occasional altruism--was full of nothing but pure, torrid bitterness.
"You crazy fuckin' bitch!" Vince yelled, backing into the living room barefoot--careful to mind the trash lining the carpet.
The unrest had conveniently ignited mere moments before Beth had pushed Vince out of their bedroom, urging him to "get out" before she erupted further.
Christine had been resting her head against Tommy's shoulder amidst the chaos, flicking through a community college brochure she had picked up this morning on her walk back home.
When she first flicked through the glossy red pages, her heart sank at the prospect of having to put herself through two years of that.
But, the more she read--the more she considered and scrutinized each potential pro to attending--her mind was hastily made up, and each downside to immersing herself into that environment was discarded.
Christine didn't mind applying for Los Angeles City College, now.
What she did mind, however, was the fucking noise coming from that room as she tried to reconsider each positive.
"I'd rather be a "crazy bitch" than a lying, cheating cunt!" Beth hurled at him, pointing a finger in his face. "You make me sick, Vincent!"
"The fuck did I do now?!"
"The fuck did you do?!" She repeated, yelling. "More like the fuck didn't you do, asshole!"
Christine closed her pamphlet and locked eyes with Nikki from across the room, lifting an eyebrow when Beth started to fume. And cry, too. Tears of fucking rage.
