TAKE ME OUT.

i say take me out,

SO IF YOU'RE LONELY YOU KNOW I'M HERE WAITING FOR YOU I'M JUST A CROSSHAIR I'M JUST A SHOT AWAY FROM YOU AND IF YOU LEAVE HERE YOU LEAVE ME BROKEN SHATTERED I LIE I'M JUST A CROSSHAIR I'M JUST A SHOT THEN WE CAN DIE I KNOW I WON'T BE LEAVING HERE WITH YOU I SAY DON'T YOU KNOW - - - - - - - - - - - - TAG | BLAIR SCOUT REESE WORDS | 935 NOTES | this sucks but bona~

In the seven or so years that Mona had been living with her mother and stepfather in Ohio, her father had made some changes to the family restaurant. What had previously been a cramped and crowded little bistro, with a menu that never changed and the same clientele that came back week after week, had been revamped a little. It was more modern. It looked kind of cleaner than it used to. The special actually changed every day, and sometimes they got customers who weren’t family friends or other immigrants from around the neighbourhood. Business was a little better, but it was not good enough that money wasn't a problem. To compensate for the struggling restaurant, her father had begun to offer catering services. He did the occasional wedding, bar mitzvah, funeral, whatever. Mona had come along a couple of times, and she kind of enjoyed it. It was nice getting out and meeting different people. Circulating a room with a tray, eavesdropping, observing people’s little life moments. It was nice in a vaguely voyeuristic way. Most of all, it paid quite well though. That was the important thing. That’s all Mona wanted to get out of nights like tonight. As long as they were paying her dad well, she didn’t care what kind of Hell she had to work. And tonight was kind of Hell. They were catering some kind of posh socialite party, which was weird in and of itself. Her dad was very excited, because he thought this meant he was moving up in the world or something. It was funny how he could constitute working for people who were richer than normal as a sign of upward mobility, when ultimately he was still working the same job for the same pay and all, but Mona wasn’t going to argue with him. She was just trying to get through the evening without having an existential crisis. It probably hadn’t occurred to her father, but she was finding this really weird. She’d spent her teenage years going to parties like this, but sort of… from the other side. When you were the spoilt stepdaughter of a very conservative state governor, you went to fancy parties a lot. Wore fancy dresses. Real diamonds. Etc. You got used to being the one being served. Mona had never exactly felt comfortable in the role – her working class roots were way too strong to be glossed over by a very privileged adolescence – but it was still pretty jarring to fall from such great social heights. She’d gotten used to being treated well, and it now felt very odd to her to be waiting on the kind of pretty painted girls who’d used to be her friends. Who’d used to be her. It felt odd to be back on the lowest social rung, to be looked right through as though she weren’t even there. It was weird how she could suddenly become so invisible. Although being totally invisible would have had some perks, she decided as she started making her way back towards the kitchen and found her way blocked by some smug looking prep school boy. “Hi there.” He smiled, and Mona noted with wariness that he had a slightly glazed tipsy look in his eye. She hazarded a guess that he was drunk more on his own sense of entitlement than he was on the watered down champagne making the rounds, but that was even worse. Nothing more dangerous than a cocky rich white boy who thought he could get away with anything. She smiled tightly in response, then attempted to duck round him and disappear through the double doors to the kitchen. He side stepped to block her, smirking all the while: “I said hi there. What’s your name?” She shook her head, anxiously reaffirming her grip on the tray in her hands just in case she needed to viciously beat him with it. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to literally beat a boy away. “Mi dispiace, non parlo inglese. Scusi.” She mumbled apologetically. Luckily his ear for Italian clearly wasn’t that good, because he bought it. Mona was far too Americanised to be able to play the ‘sorry I am Italian and I don’t understand you’ card on anyone with half a brain, so she was lucky that most of the people here weren’t very bright. Or, you know, just didn’t listen that closely to the help. Whatever. She slid past her stupid companion and made it back into the kitchen, where she deposited her empty tray on the counter and then took a moment to shake the ache out of her wrist. “The people here suck.” She complained under her breath. There was no one in the kitchen to hear her – the party was now in full swing, so all her colleagues were out in amongst the crowd, being good servers and all that – but she needed to get it off her chest. Shuddering vaguely to herself at the thought of having to go back out there and face more rich people fuckery, she picked up a fully loaded tray of canapés, took a deep breath, and pushed her way back through the kitchen doors. The boy from moments ago was still skulking around nearby, so she put on a little burst of speed and hurried over to the opposite side of the room to get away from him. Unfortunately, her haste made her clumsy, and she almost collided with a statuesque blonde. “Oh shit.” She said by way of surprised apology, and then, regaining the use of her brain, “Uh… I mean, hors d’oeuvres?”

alright, come close

let me show you everything i know. the jungle slang spinning 'round my head and i just stare while my naked fool fresh out of an icky gooey womb, a woozy youth dopes upon her silky smooth perfume---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner parties were always her favorite kind of party. Don't get her wrong, the classic sleazy kind of party you find a nightclubs were also a good time, but fucking with the rich and famous when they were attempting to be charitable was always the best. Blair would always show up with her prettiest of faces painted on, smiling off the arm of her father while he whisked her around from table to table and they made uninteresting conversation about how well she was doing now that she was in recover. She would make nice with strangers, perhaps even befriend a few, but the highlight of each evening for her was whenever she snagged the arm of some actor's son or a director's daughter and fucked them in the coatroom or perhaps the pantry. There were a lot of places scattered about that could land her into a whole world of trouble and publicly humiliate her father, but that's where she found the thrill in it. Blair liked to test her cunning skill by doing the dirtiest thing she could think of when the consequences were running at their highest. It was a dangerous and shameful game she played, but she was the kind of girl who just couldn't keep her hands out of the cookie jar even though she'd been repeatedly scolded for it time and time again. Tonight she had already made her rounds around the table. Everyone congratulated her on her eight months of sobriety, though she'd stopped being sober around five. Regardless, she thanked them and moved on to the next group until finally there was no one left to greet and everyone sat around enjoying their over priced drinks and genuine Italian cuisine. She, on the other hand, was looking for her next bedmate.  It had been at least three days since she last had a lay with someone, so she was feeling particularly strung out tonight. The real tragic thing about it was that no one seemed to be sparking her interest tonight. All the lords and ladies pegged her as boring do-gooders. Maybe there was a young lady or two she could corrupt with a few carefully picked words, but Blair decided to wait it out and lounge around for a little while first. Her father hadn't even gotten up to the stage to make his speech yet, thanking everyone for their kind donations that would be going to whatever charity he was promoting this month. If she waited a little while, perhaps someone would come to her and the fun could continue on after that. Of course, the odds of that happening were pretty slim considering she was the one who usually had to strike up conversation, but a girl could dream. And sometimes, dreams really do come true. By some chance, a pretty little serving girl happened to stumble her way right into Blair's web. She came off as a little flustered and sputtered something out in nervous Italian. Though Blair didn't know the language, she was familiar with the accent. "Come again? Your accent is very alluring, but I'm not quite familiar with the language." A dazzling smile appeared on her lips. She'd used this very expression to charm countless victims before. The first thing the blonde did was carefully take in the woman's uniquely crafted face, deciding relatively quickly that she was stunning. Then, briefly after, a leisurely stroll from her head, to her toes, then up again brought her to the conclusion that the rest of her was likely to be just as stunning despite the unflattering nature of her uniform. "Are you in some kind of hurry? You look a little flustered." Blair arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and leaned in a little closer to the exotic stranger. Her smile morphed into something a little more... suggestive. Flirty. Of course she managed to keep it harmless enough, just in case this woman was the type to get insulted at homosexual implications. Starting a fuss in the middle of a high class social party wouldn't be ideal, though some serving girl's discomfort probably wouldn't ruin the whole evening. Still, Blair didn't like to step on people's toes in that sense. She could respect a person's boundaries and limitations. It was just a little unfortunate when a pretty face like this wasn't willing to try something a little new because... well, Blair could think of a whole list of things she'd like to do to the pretty face in front of her.

TAG: MONA AGNESE LOMBARDI OUTFIT: CLICK WORDS: words NOTES: lol she's horny.

i say take me out,

SO IF YOU'RE LONELY YOU KNOW I'M HERE WAITING FOR YOU I'M JUST A CROSSHAIR I'M JUST A SHOT AWAY FROM YOU AND IF YOU LEAVE HERE YOU LEAVE ME BROKEN SHATTERED I LIE I'M JUST A CROSSHAIR I'M JUST A SHOT THEN WE CAN DIE I KNOW I WON'T BE LEAVING HERE WITH YOU I SAY DON'T YOU KNOW - - - - - - - - - - - - TAG | BLAIR SCOUT REESE WORDS | 897 NOTES | whoops mona's intimidated

Mona had really not been paying much attention to the guests at this party. To be honest, she kind of didn’t care who was in attendance. There was a time when she would have, but she was sort of over her pretentious rich bitch stage. She’d never been good at that whole persona anyway, so no great loss. She’d just been keeping her head down and trying not to find the role reversal weird and occasionally dodging boys with amorous intentions like the one she’d just escaped. Besides, there was always the problem of there being a multitude of gorgeous ladies at parties like this, and Mona was trying very hard not to look. After all, her father was somewhere around here, and the absolute worst thing in the world would be for him to catch her checking someone out. When Mona had fled her other family in Ohio and turned up on her father’s doorstep in New York, she’d not exactly told him… why her other parents had kicked her out. She’d not wanted to. After the way her mom and Richard had reacted to her being outed, she didn’t… Well, she didn’t want to think her dad would reject her too, but she had no way of knowing. It was better to stay in the closet for now, until she was back on her feet and at least had a plan of where to go if he turned his back on her too. So, yes, while her dad was around it was for the best if Mona kept her eyes down and hands to herself, just in case she accidentally outed herself again. It wasn’t worth the drama. This was easier said than done, however, especially when she chose this moment to run into a total goddess. “Come again? Your accent is very alluring, but I’m not quite familiar with the language.” The goddess said, and Mona cringed internally. Oh shit, she must still be in Italian mode. Mona was as American as apple pie most of the time – well, imported apple pie, maybe – but she supposed she’d slipped into her old accent by mistake when she’d been trying to rebuff that boy a minute ago and had forgotten to slip out of it again. Crap. Did that mean she had to fake an Italian accent for this whole conversation? Double crap. “You don’t know what hors d’oeuvres mean?” She replied with an over innocent blink, instead of correcting her on the whole accent / nationality thing. She was pretty sure that was the standard rich people word for ‘appertisers’, but maybe it was just a case of guests not really listening to the help again. Or the fact that Mona had forgotten to turn off her accent and been mumbling or something. “Are you sure you’re at the right party?” Whoops. That had slipped out by accident. Rule number one of working these things was ‘don’t sass the guests’, but sometimes it happened. Usually she got away with it, because… as she’d already thoroughly established, people here didn’t really listen to their servers. But this girl was looking at her quite intensely, studying her almost, and she felt her face flush slightly under the force of her gaze. “Are you in some kind of hurry? You look a little flustered.” She leant in, her mouth curving suggestively up at one corner. Mona swallowed involuntarily. She wasn’t naturally an anxious person, but it was probably natural to get a little flustered when a pretty girl was looking at you like you were a meal. She was still at the stage in her life where she was inexperienced enough in romantic endeavours that any kind of attention made her nervous and spastic. It probably wasn’t even like that. The girl was probably straight, or just messing with her or something. That was always how it went down. Mona was rarely lucky in that regard – all the hot and / or nice girls were always straight. “I – I’m working.” Mona replied in a tentative mumble, as a vague explanation for why she might be in a hurry. There was a bad taste in her mouth at the weirdness of uttering that phrase. She was still not over the fact that she would usually be the one being served at this kind of thing. And there was something piercing and judgmental about the other girl’s gaze that had made a tight knot of shame form in the pit of her stomach. It was like she could see right through her – it was like she knew what she was thinking or something. Mona wasn’t sure whether she liked that or not, whether the heat rising up past her collar was purely discomfort or if there was some dim sense of pleasure in being viewed so intently by such a lovely creature. “Um… are you sure I can’t tempt you?” She lifted her tray slightly with a little flourish. “To a… uh, to a thing, I mean?” Fuck, she’d forgotten the word ‘arancini’. Her father would be outraged. She’d grown up in an Italian kitchen – how could she forget what the food they served was called? She blamed the blonde. She was pretty sure it was possible to forget her own name when you were being looked at like that by someone like her. “’Cos I should, um… keep circulating, you know. ‘Cos it’s my job, so…” She awkwardly offered her the tray again, and wondered why she had to be such an idiot around pretty girls.

alright, come close

let me show you everything i know. the jungle slang spinning 'round my head and i just stare while my naked fool fresh out of an icky gooey womb, a woozy youth dopes upon her silky smooth perfume---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Truth be told, Blair wasn't completely sure what tonight's party was even for. She imagined a few rich guys set it up and plastered "charity event" all over the posters but there was no doubt in her mind that at least a handful of them would pocket some of the cash. That's just how this whole thing worked. People tried to talk themselves up and look like a genuinely good natured citizens that are trying to share some of their fortune with the less fortunate, but in reality, they were just attempting to fill their own pockets a little more. Blair wasn't interested in the politics and scheming of it all. Her main priority was to find someone to entertain herself with. Tonight's crowd seemed a little dry. There weren't very many pretty or handsome faces or intriguing personalities that were drawing in her attention. It was tragic really, because she was feeling a certain type of way that was making her restless. She smiled kindly and laughed charmingly whenever she someone approached her, but conversation never stretched out for too long because no one could hold her attention. Her father would no doubt be disappointed. He was always gently nudging her during these types of gatherings, hoping that she would make nice conversation with a nice boy who had nice parents and a nice college degree. Perhaps some day that might happen, but there was a chance that it might not. Men weren't strictly meant for romantic relations. Women could also tickle her fancy just fine. It was all about the personality really. That's what drew her in the most.  While she was in the middle of mulling over her options, the stars aligned and this cute little Italian girl ran straight into her. It appeared as if she startled herself and forgot her place, shooting back some thoughtless sarcasm in reply. Perhaps this should have offended Blair, but it only made her arch an eyebrow curiously. Now, this was something she could find herself becoming interested in. A pretty little servant girl who didn't know her place. Blair licked her lips and let a smile curl them back, flashing her teeth very briefly. "Perhaps not. This isn't exactly my type of party, but I'm expected to make appearances." Smiling again, Blair stared the other girl down with a wildfire blazing behind her eyes and even dared herself to lean in a little closer. "Probably not such a good idea to sass the VIPs right after you knocked into them with a tray full of food." The threat was a weak one, but she wasn't trying to make the girl piss herself right then and there. It looked as if she was already frightened enough. Best no overdo it. Usually Blair wasn't the type to find amusement in picking people apart, but this was the most entertainment she'd found all night. This girl, so stunningly beautiful, fell right into her lap and seemed as if she was afraid of her own shadow. Of course, it always could have been the fact that the vibes she gave off were intimidating. Plenty of people had told her that before. Her confidence was overpowering, making other people question their own. That was never her intention really, but it just seemed to happen that way. It didn't help that she was much lower on the social ladder than she was as well. "Trying to anyway." Blair chuckled, hoping that her slight dig at her poor work performance might make her squirm a little bit more. Not enough to make her run away, but enough to make her just a little more anxious. Fortunately for her, the lovely lady didn't leave so quickly and instead set herself up for more suggestive comments and glances. "You could tempt me with a lot of things, sweetheart." Her voice took on a sort of purr as she leaned extremely close to her. For a moment her eyes locked with the girl's, then she glanced at the tray and picked something up before popping it into her mouth. "If you don't want to go, you don't have to. We could steal away to some other room and finish the tray ourselves. I won't tell anyone, I promise." The purr was still there but a new wild light flickered in her eyes. It would be wrong for them to leave, but there would be no denying the excitement in it as well. Blair grinned at her, and lightly trailed her fingertips along the length of her arm. "what do you say?"

TAG: MONA AGNESE LOMBARDI OUTFIT: CLICK WORDS: words NOTES: good times xD