Monday Morning Mahem (open)

[Ruby Isabella Ault]

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Ruby woke up with a start on a Monday morning. 3:30 a.m exactly. With a groan she reached out and slammed her hand down on to the alarm clock. Slowly she sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Trying to wake herself up more. Looking around her bedroom it had aged over the years. No more boy band posters. But posters of places around the world. And a giant world map sitting above her computer desk. Her old Apple lap top open up with travel plans. Papers scattered around her room along with her dirty cloths. She usually got off about 7 at night and put her tip money in the jar under her bed and then worked on her travel plans. Which lately she felt she was getting closer and closer. To her goal. Reaching over to the picture next to her bed, she slowly ran her fingers along it. Morning big bro…We are almost there.

Slowly she stood up and stretched with another yawn. Kicking around her room she grabbed apron and threw it on the bed before grabbing a pair of clean white shorts and her black tank top. Moving out into the hall quietly tip toeing past her parents room to the bedroom of their flat. Turning on the hot water, she peeled off her pajamas and stepped in. The hot water spreading over her body. Waking her up fully with a nice long sigh. Yes, it probably would be sad if a 25 year old woman still lived with her parents. But they knew her dreams. To travel the world. Along with paying half the rent, which they secretly put in a bank account for her trip, she brought food home for dinner every night. After her shower, Ruby stepped out wrapping a towel around herself before sneaking back out to her room. Sure her family didn’t have much. She had lived in the Bronx all her life. Living in the same run down flat for her entire life. She never wanted to have anything else. No money in the world would ever come close to how great her childhood was. How great her family was. She loved it and never wanted anything more.

Pulling on her tank top and shorts she threw her apron over her shoulder before pulling on her tennis shoes. Letting out another yawn she looked over at the clock. 4 a.m. She had thirty minutes to get to work. Slowly she moved out of her room and down the stairs. Popping into the small kitchen nook and grabbed a breakfast bar before sneaking out the back door to the small yard. Smiling she let out a whistle. Not a moment later her large Doberman Pincher, Little, was out of her dog house and running towards her. Jumping up and giving her a big hug. Good morning, Little. It’s time for breakfast. She stated happily before grabbing the bag of dog food and filling her bowl before filling it with water. Petting her dog one last time she moved out the back gate, locking it and making her way down the side walk to the Coffee Shop on the corner. Pulling out her keys she unlocking the door and turning on the open sign just as it hit four thirty. Making her way around the small shop she unlocked the door to the art room and pushed it open for those who want to visit the artists work.

She loved working at the coffee shop. She had for years. She has meet some of the greatest artists of her time here. And she wouldn’t trade a day of it. Sure she gets minimum wage but she never had a bad day at work. Quickly she turned on all the machines and the lights. Opening the blinds just as the sun was coming up shinning through the tall sky scrapers. She let out a soft smile. This was her home. Turning, she tightly the apron around her waist and made her way behind the counter to get ready for the morning rush. Once 5 hit, she would be busier than ever since it is Monday morning. Grabbing her own cup of coffee she took a long sip. Staring at the door waiting for her first customer to begin the morning rush for her long 12 hour day of work. Like she does 7 days a week.

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•tags• Open/737 !
•status• done !
•outfit• rawr!
•lyrics• Crush by Paramore !
•credit• angelbymistake from Caution 2.0 ![/center]

[avi marciela walker]

Platinum blonde hair bouncing around in the ponytail between her narrow, flushed shoulders, Avi stepped high and distanced, sneakers pounding against the treadmill with a resolve that could move a thousand soldiers in war. It'd been an hour since she started running, the same hour she ran every morning to burn off whatever calories she did manage to ingest and keep her physically fit. It was a wonder she hadn't had a heart attack and collapsed yet, and somehow she managed to make it through the day on a copious amount of energy for someone's who's daily allowance was around a single apple and maybe a bowl of low-calorie soup. Lips curling up in a determined snarl, she ran the last few paces in her three mile jog and hit the button to turn the treadmill off, ridiculously narrow body hopping sideways off of the treadmill and a slender, fragile hand sliding through platinum blonde locks. The routine somehow never tired her out, somehow never made her any more world-weary then someone who'd been through what she'd been through should be. Coughing lightly, she stripped the sports bra that held her relatively non-existent chest in place, the tiny shorts that she barely had to bother with off of her bottom half and showered briefly, taking the ten minutes necessary to scrub in a two in one shampoo and run a washcloth over her skin.

Getting dressed was simplistic as well, something she was used to doing and usually staying as uncomplicated as possible. A pair of monstrous heels, and something easy to put on on top. The rest was history.

The model was, surprisingly, entirely enticed with the prospect of sitting on a coffee shop and sketching away on a blank piece of paper. On her rare days off, that's exactly what she did, and seeing as there was a local shop where not too many people ever went at one time to stay, she made it her own and brought in a couple of things to make herself comfortable, including her laptop and some paper, a couple of colored pencils. Portraits were her favorite kind of drawing and she was damn good at them, she always had been, despite how awkward they could be when someone didn't know you were sketching them. Lips turned up at the corners with the idea of free time, she'd been ten seconds away from heading out the door when her hand rested on her phone to put it in her back pocket, and it vibrated. “Fuck.” she muttered aimlessly, staring at it as if it would stop vibrating just because she was glaring with full force. No such luck. It continued, one ring away from going into voice mail when she finally picked the cursed thing up. Nineteen year old eyes rolling as her agent scolded her for being so late when it came to accepting the call, “Yeah, yeah. Fuck off, Nanc.” she stated before clicking the phone closed and looking back towards the window, as if someone would swoop through and help her out. Nope. That wasn't happening either. Turning so she was looking at her side, the nineteen year old female frowned once more and hung her satchel over her too-narrow shoulders, out the door just as soon as she was supposed to be before. Six thirty seven. She should be able to make to the first shoot by eight if she stopped for a quick drawing at the cafe, a coffee not something she could indulge in without feeling very guilty about the transaction later in the evening, when her evening run wasn't enough to keep herself placated. Maybe she'd go for two hours instead of just one. Maybe.

Pulling open the door after some vague effort, she stared into the depths of the coffee shop and let her eyes fall on a girl, medium height, blue eyes, black hair. “Ruby.” she greeted, casual in her tone but slightly maniacal and angered underneath the slight pleasantry. She hated her. The girl was everything she promised she'd never be and it was driving her to her breaking point to see someone who was never going to leave long island. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked, the same pleasant tone in her voice as she took the five steps from the door to the counter.

click for outfit.

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