melancholic meanderings, open.

[CLAIRE ELIZABETH WALDGRAVE]

Her mother had sent her away again. Ashamed. That was the word she’d used to describe her feelings towards her. Ashamed. Well, that was far too bad for her, wasn’t it?

Of course, she’d always wanted a daughter like Anna. A little rough round the edges but, all in all, she was a good little girl who appreciated what she had as well as the lesser things in life. Pah. Little did she know that the golden girl was actually far worse than Claire had ever been. Not that she liked to remind her mother of the dark days when she’d been the one crying in her room till two am because of something her brother had said to her. Nor would she be the stupid little girl who brought to her mothers attentions the way in which Nate had beheaded all of her dolls and cut tiny little holes in her old dresses from London. Nope. Claire refused to be the one to tell her that.

Eyeing the dress that stood tall on a mannequin behind the glass of one of the more prestigious shops, Claire sighed. It was beautiful. Any girl would have wanted it but…there was something missing. Perhaps it was the way in which the appliqué looked as if it was misplaced. Or maybe it was the stitching along the hem of the dress, she couldn’t pin the problem. Instead, the girl carried on walking. She’d walk and walk until she had rid her mind of the incessant thoughts of her mother and the disappointment she’d shown in her. Disappointment. What a bitter word that could be.

Biting on the nail that hid beneath it the real stump of her own, Claire eyed the lingering figure on the other side of the street. She was heading towards downtown, she knew that she would be. Those were the people she could really identify with. The ones she could let her hair down in front of. Whilst she was there she wasn’t Claire Elizabeth Waldgrave. No. she was Claire, the Londoner who liked to party. And whilst her mother begged for her not to be seen down there, especially now at this fragile moment in their lives, Claire ignored her.

She had to.

Eyeing the vendor that was selling hotdogs, Claire quickly handed him the crumpled dollar bill that loitered in the deep pockets of her Vintage Chanel coat. Thank you. she said politely, each syllable pronounced with a thick accent from the student of a Hampshire private school. After all, that’s where she’d been most of her life. She hadn’t seen why she couldn’t have remained there. The students were the sons and daughters of prestigious Ladies and Lords. The Count’s had sent their dearly beloved offspring to the beautiful school that was set in the countryside. Claire hadn’t really fitted in there either. She wasn’t as rich as the other students, her money coming from her mother’s boyfriends and partners. Her clothes were worn and messy compared to those who went there. The labels sticking out the back of her casual wear displayed the names like Topshop, H&M and River Island. There was nothing prestigious about those clothes but she’d been comfortable in them. And whilst some of the girls had sneered at the gap toothed girl, a few were more welcoming.

Her cat like eyes fell to the pavement as she pulled the fur coat a little closer around her shoulders. She’d hated herself then and she’d not really grown to adore herself now. She hated the way her teeth were separated in the middle, like a train track. She hated it. There was nothing sexy about a girl that had bad orthodontistry. Her mother had simply patted her on the blonde head and told her not to worry, she was beautiful inside and out. Not that she felt it. And her cheeks were always chubbier, her cousin ridiculing her for it. stop with the bread and then maybe you’ll lose a few pounds, darling cousin. She’d simpered as she sat with her bowl of grapes, blue cat like eyes sparkling with triumph as she watched her words sink through her skin to the core of the younger girl.

Heels clicking to the rhythm of the city, Claire bit in to the hot dog and licked her lips free of any crumbs that had stuck to her lip gloss. Sorry. She apologised hesitantly as she felt her handbag clash with another body. Looking around, she smiled softly as she saw the Lower side of Manhatten greet her with it’s big, common, polluted smile.

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[CHARLIZE CECILIA RUTHERFORD]

Family was a funny thing. It was a part of live that - by nature's default - you couldn't be without. Even an orphan had a family, mother and father, though with the convenient benefit of not being aware of who they really were. Because in CeeCee's case, parents where the dry and matte rust on the shiny silver spoon that her life was supposed to be. A dark vision of a future she didn't want to perceive. People said if you wanted to know what a person would be like grownup, look at their parents, which was a frightening thought. All throughout her life Charlize had honored and loved Jonathan and Annette, had looked up to them, though all that slowly faltered and broke away as she grew older and more aware of what living on the Upper Westside meant. The pretenses and that smooth image that had to be upheld. Appearance before essence, an empty shell of sparkling diamonds like the city lights. Her mother's affair, her fathers unhappiness and following sidesteps of his own ... there was the time where the brunette tried to look past it but ultimately she had learned love wasn't going to make her parents better people.

It was something Carter and CeeCee had shared ... quite possibly THE fundamental solidarity that cast them together eternally like a crystal that you couldn't split without destroying it. They both knew what it was like to love an image of a parent that never really existed ... and how it felt to find out it all was one big lie, a fib going on their costs ... as the only children of selfish people. Their sole purpose being the continuation of a bloodline, American heritage, progression of an empire built with lies and deceit. They also knew what it was like to have a sibling being pushed onto you, one that you hadn't bargained for. At least in CeeCee's case that brother had turned out to be a great person, who only had shown her that growing up away from the influences of his 'real' family had allowed him to grow beyond anything his real father ever was. Something the brunette found similarly in Carter. The ability to be more than his father. Something she hoped she was sharing with him as well.

And then there was still Claire, the prodigal step sister from hicksville north slutshire. The delusional little blond that actually believed anyone would accept her as a Waldgrave ... anyone but those below her on the social ladder that was. Anyone but those who were dependent on her goodwill for their monthly piece of dry bread and outdated salami on their humble supper table. Of course the 18-year old knew about that dependency and never failed to exploit it. Luckily there were still those, including Carter and CeeCee, who couldn't see her and that surgically altered rag-doll of a mother to board a steam-boat of their choice back to the old country! Of course that was easier said than done ... else it'd be fish and chips all the way for the two again already. It was both Carter's reluctance to pull the final trigger - so Charlize thought - and the fact what it would look like to the public eye if the heir of the Waldgrave empire practically eradicated his entire family, or at least everyone who could succeed the bloodline besides himself. She understood that though ... CeeCee understood just fine.

Taking a turn on Madison Avenue the petite brunette with the long legs had reached the end of her usual shopping route today extending a little further south in order to maybe find some new and exciting hot spots of fashion or decoration. She had already ordered for a town car to pick her up as CeeCee got overrun by a few quick flashes and a guy coming out from in between two cars asking her to look his way. Squinting her eyes at the sudden change in lighting the girl accelerated her pace ... how many times did they need to ban her shopping trips on celluloid till they would realize it was a boring notion to keep her days occupied?! Her thoughts away from circling around the one thing that was on her mind since she could think so it seemed ... holding up one hand to shield her face in passing she strutted as fast as her ridiculous heels allowed. "Come on! One smile!" she heard the guy yell after her somewhat mocking. Turning a bit in her walk she barked back at him non chalant. "Bugger off man! Seriously!"

Stopping in motion the brunette decided to go on confrontation seeing as the guy lowered his camera already. "You know what? Why don't you go and photograph a lamp-post or a fire hydrant ... if you add a bit of artistic capability who knows you might get on a wall actually rather than recycled paper!" Putting her weight on one foot dominantly CeeCee waited for a somewhat witty response but all she actually got was a dumbfounded shrug. Rolling her eyes head shaking she turned quickly in anticipation to continue her exit when she almost stumbled over what appeared to be a seasoned designer handbag with custom trinkets dangling from it's handle. "Oh my god I am so ..." she stuttered with a gasp turning into an excusing smile turning into a face freeze. Claire! "... NOT sorry." Charlize concluded with a serious tone, her eyes soon switching to the handbag again that had almost triggered a 5 foot fall. Kicking it purposely the slightly taller brunette narrowed her eyes menacingly at the ex step sister in law. "Aren't you a little far away from the crack den designer outlet?!" she bitched condescendingly.

[CLAIRE ELIZABETH WALDGRAVE]

Claire didn’t really hate her life here, it was by far a lot easier to deal with than the life back home. The constant moving and introductions to the new men…it had always been a bit tricky for the girl to deal with it. She could’ve turned out so much worse, or that’s at least what she thought. The only reason they’d stayed in New York was because her mother was so reluctant to let Felix go completely. He’d been the only man that she’d loved completely, or so it seemed. Fate would have it that once she’d found that man he’d been taken away from her in such a cruel turn of events. The stroke had hit the family like a tonne of bricks, Carter being so far home and so angry at the whole family because of Claire’s behaviour and her mother’s attempts to embrace the high society lifestyle that she had been so selfishly craving all her life. It had all been too much for the older Waldgrave. And for Claire?

Well she’d loved the life at first, the clothes and the shoes that had just sprouted in to her wardrobe. The latest bags and the freshest looks just coming to her in one big Happy Family catalogue of acceptance. But then it had gotten harder. She’d been needed to join in with the family business of bitching and whinging. She’d had to join in the same scene that her family had dropped themselves in to. The drug use without getting addicted because addictions weren’t cool. The inhalation of smoke and marijuana laced cigarettes. The sex and the scandals. The pregnancy scares and the attacking of those who threatened to overturn them on the throne. It had all been too much for Claire and so, with a lack of dignity on her side, she’d thrown herself in to the lifestyle of the lower Manhattaners.

Sometimes she missed the simplicity of her primary school. At least that had been somewhat of a normal memory for the girl. The uniform that had to be in a certain way and was never accessorised because no one could afford it, then there were the teachers that had actually cared. They wouldn’t be bribed for neither money nor love and they certainly wouldn’t favour their students of such a trivial thing. The other kids had all gotten along well with their simplistic games of hide and seek, the petty arguments were resolved by lunchtime and the sleepovers had been out of true friendship rather than a gaining of status upgrades.

Confused eyes looked up to see one of her biggest threats on the island staring at her. Small lips pulling in to an uncontrollable grimace, she wiped her fingers on the napkin from the hotdog and discarded the soiled thing in to the nearby litter bin before straightening her jacket and looking defiantly back at her enemy. Backing down was no longer an option or an act of heroic morality; it was a sign of weakness and cowardice. Full lips pulled in to a red lipped pout, the brown eyed Brigitte look-a-like raised a carefully threaded eyebrow at her nemesis and smirked slightly at the brunette. Crack den? Wow, aren’t you down with the ghetto kids. She replied lightly, her words dripping with venomous malice. For a second there I thought that I’d actually hurt you but then I realised it was all an act for your best friend. Her disapproving eyes rolled on to the paparazzi that were slowly picking up interest again at the sight of an altercation between the once bonded family.

Resigned the girl felt her energy drain away as she could sense the old games picking up again. She didn’t want this monarchy anymore, would rather retreat to her comfort zone and allow the problems be resolved by the night. The powdered substances dissolving in to her bloodstream and covering the black fairytales with little white lies as she allowed her senses overcome the power of thought. She longed for the silky touch of another males hands on her milky white skin, his fingers coursing through her blonde waves and his breath on her neck.

Comforting herself with men and narcotics had always been the simpler way of resolving problems. With the taste of bourbon on her lips she’d suck on the capsule like a sugar cube, taste the sweet melodic concoctions dripping in to her veins and altering her DNA. She was no longer the spoilt rich kid from the Upper East Side, she was the struggling to make ends meet kid from West Stanton. She was a waitress. A model or a wannabe actress. She could be anyone and she embraced that feeling with a feverish need for the simpler things in life. Whipping her top off and displaying the true her, a skin and bones figurine that liked the feeling of silks and velvet on her curvaceous frame, Claire would dance in her designer heels until the suns rays began to gawk in shock at her tumbling out the biker bars in the early hours with a stranger holding her up and promising her nothing but love for the next few hours.

Steely eyes stared at her once to be sister in law, she sighed with boredom as she awaited the predictably callous remarks thrown at her and the way she lived her life. All she could do these days was wait. Wait until the serpent struck once more, their venom injecting in to her skin and eating away at her confidence.

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[CHARLIZE CECILIA RUTHERFORD]

If CeeCee would've ever had a sister ... she could've imagined her to be as annoying as Claire. Well, surely with better breeding and of course a fashion sense that didn't revolve around the catch phrase: 'Less is more!'. But the way her childhood had been, her parents were behaving and the life on the Upper Westside generally progressed that girl would've been a downright annoyance. High maintenance and so full of herself she'd literally start dripping confidence from her ear canal. Sisters always were totally difference, it was the whole black swan / white swan thing in nature. And to be honest, Claire and Charlize couldn't be anymore different, if not only bay appearance. The brunette had never been one to take women serious who wore skirts so short their tampon string was showing. Nor did she have any favor for working class offsprings whose whorish mothers bought their way into society funneling rich guys through their parted legs. The blond with the gaping teeth was the epitome of the hobo turned millionaire. Or at least the beneficial millionaires daughter.

Watching her almost step sister in law discarding the remains of her common roadside food CeeCee pulled a slightly disgusted face. Sure, she was all for trying new things or taking it casual with a nice guy at the burger stand but walking the streets alone with a greasy wiener in her bun was OBVIOUSLY only a thing Claire Waldgrave would dare to do. There was clearly no step to low, no bar to shabby, no random stranger to run down for her to take advantage of. She was like the Courtney Love of the Upper Eastside only that Claire had never been able to bag a successful man but countless lowlife dead-beats. The list of her conquests read like the 'Who you didn't need to know' of New Yorks lower crust. At least if Charlize went out to get banned on film with some guy she made sure he was on the fortune 500's. It was about upping one selfs social value ... all that the blond girl did was bartering away the good name generations of Waldgraves had built up. Pulling the decorum and dignity into the dirt that the family stood for. She would've never done this when Felix was still alive, therefor she was to scared!

"Listen ... Leftover-Barbie ... you may have gone from zero to hero because some New York billionaire with a libido that would make Jude Law lower his pate in shame took a liking to your once decent looking trollop of a mother but that doesn't mean you gained class. Because class is - despite your weak efforts and platinum credit card - not something you can buy, it comes from heritage, history, behavior and - well - dignity. Feel free to consult your little dictionary any time you get lost on my words dear." Shooting a cold smile at Claire the petite brunette was obviously on a roll. Letting out so many repressed emotions and anger towards the girl that was so easy to be blamed with all the bad things that had haunted the Waldgrave name recently. The demise of the enterprise, the death of it's figurehead, the end of her relationship with Carter ... because reasonable or not, Claire was the perfect scapegoat. "So you may think you are the oh so unfairly treated Cinderella here that HAS to act out because everyone is weighing down on her with their insults and disrespect but face it Moonshine: People liked you a lot better when you were to shy to get out of your room and to embarrassed to smile. The latter being a major upside period since ... well, let's face it you could give a blow-job and not even open your jaws. But I got a newsflash for you! The whole 911 cry for help number with the drugs, guys and parties may work for Miley Cyrus but every woman with common sense and at least a semblance of dignity would steer clear of that. Yet I know it's a lot to ask to know decorum from a British townie."

Shouldering her bag again CeeCee felt as if she had said enough, bringing her point across. More than quite possibly though, not much would go through the hair-spray enforced straw of Claire's ... at least it wasn't very likely. Given their past she couldn't even blame the girl. Charlize had never taken her for full ... always had loathed the little blond who had been scurrying her way into their lives threatening to take over Carter's attention with her sole existence. Every time the tall blond took Claire's side or only talked protectively off her the brunette had felt this unnatural sting in her chest like a little jealous bee digging it's way out of that rib cage. Shaking her hair out snobbishly CeeCee concluded. "It's funny you called me worthless now that I am no longer with Carter nor running the social system of a school for that matter ... but you should ask yourself, could people only go on without you or wouldn't they actually sigh in relief. Because quite frankly, the world may miss a Rutherford ... but I am sure they could live without a Smith. Because you may flatter yourself into the delusion of being a Waldgrave but the truth of the matter is, someone who's run-of-the-mill birth-name is sold on bumper stickers has no place on the Upper Eastside!"