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Trillion Dollar What?
by SpartanLea June 12th 2013, 12:33 am
“Got my first six string, bought it at the Five-and-Dime. Played it ‘til my fingers bled, it was the summer of ‘69...” c’mon, who doesn’t know the Bryan Adams classic? Probably the self proclaimed Trillion Dollar Princess or what the fuck ever she’s calling herself. Little Miss Mommy and Daddy bought me everything I ever wanted. It’s almost vomit inducing honestly, maybe more so due to the fact that if circumstances had been even a little bit different...she could have turned out just like the spoiled little twat. Fortunately for everyone involved, the lovely, buxom, bombshell is made of sterner stuff. The apartment could just as easily be some kind of music memorabilia museum. Every inch of wall space is covered by album artwork, autographed photographs, concert posters. There are at least four instrument racks currently visible, each one hosting three different guitars each, well, except for one which holds only two. That would of course be because the third is currently in the hands of the buxom beauty. Although she’s not the ‘conventional’ beauty, oh no. Lea Idas, five foot six, one hundred and forty five pounds of tattooed, pierced, pink haired awesome. The bass in her hands is a work of art, painted in a whimsical fantasy scene full of mermaids, butterfly winged fairies, dragons and unicorns against a backdrop of vibrant colors. And it’s fairly obvious that she’s more than familiar with it, no idle string picking for this girl. Of course not, after all, she’s a self proclaimed rockstar, with a fairly popular little band. But to ninety nine percent of the people here? She’s nobody. But that? Oh that’s about to change. The tank top is bright pink, the jeans old, worn and faded, ripped across one knee. From the Bryan Adams classic, she transitions into a song that Godsmack fans will know all too well. “Strut on by like a king, telling everybody they know nothing. And long live what you thought you were. And time ain’t on your side anymore.”
That’s right, Godsmack’s ‘Cryin’ like a Bitch’, which, let’s face it, given the circumstances, it’s kind of fitting. We’re only treated to that opening refrain though before Lea stops, wearing an amused little smirk as she moves to return the instrument to it’s proper place. “You know, it’s funny, it really is. I mean, I could have been you...okay, so that’s not funny, it’s sickening. We’ve got a similar backgrounds. We both from money. My parents are practically rolling in cash. And growing up? I had every single luxury a kid could want. When I was sixteen they bought me a brand new Benz, private school, designer clothes, the works. Thing is? I never wanted any of it. And that’s the difference between you, and me. You’re weak. Weak willed, weak minded. You’re blinded by the dollar signs so you lead and empty, hollow, miserable, pathetic shell of a life. And me? Well let’s see. You’re twenty four, I’m twenty five, and let’s just run a few comparisons shall we? Your parents handed you a business on a silver platter. Me? I busted my ass, got my piloting license, and built a lucrative career chartering the rich and famous. Which has, by the way, afforded me a substantial list of connections you couldn’t even begin to dream of. I, busted my ass at fifteen, to buy my first bass, because I, decided at thirteen that I was going to be a rock star. My parents hated that idea. No, if they’re had it their heads that darling, precious little Lea, their youngest, she was going to be a debutante. A demure, well spoken, cultured young lady who actually cared what those idiots on the social page had to say...God did they ever get a rude awakening. You see, where you, were apparently content to be a stupid cunt and buy your way into being the stereotypical high school mean girl, I was busy kicking back mocking the dumb bitches like you. I mean let’s face it, you’re just another dime a dozen, bottle blonde, oversexed Barbie wannabe who doesn’t have an original bone in her fucking body. Natural Born Goddess? Really? Out of all the possibilities that’s what you choose to go with? Shit, could you get anymore unoriginal? Okay look, let me break this down for you. I don’t care what you think about me. Because I’ve been dealing with stupid cunts like you since grade school. I’m not here to impress you, I’m not here to impress the fans, management, or pretty much anyone behind the curtain. I’m here to impress one person, and that’s it. Because honestly? He’s the only person here worth trying to impress. So spare me okay? Spare me the stereotypical bullshit talk of “I’m better than you, blah blah blah” because I’ve heard it all before...fuck we’ve all heard it all before, and no one’s impressed.
Quite frankly, you’re a outright slap in the face to every woman who’s ever tried to succeed in anything based on merit of talent, ability, and skill. Because you fall into the cliche. All the people that want to treat women like they’re nothing more than eye candy? You just validate their opinions. Because that’s what you rely on. Your money, and your body to be your selling points. “Trillion Dollar Princess”? Well sweetheart, you’re about to have that diamond encrusted tiara knocked right the fuck off your head. Natural Born Goddess? Mmm, nah. Not in my book. You see, there’s something in your little bio page that caught my attention. You’ve been competing for just three years, and in that three year period, your name has been signed to eight different companies. You know what that tells me? You have no staying power. You’re a flash in the pan, and then you’re done. Which isn’t surprising really. People like you usually are. So let me tell you how this is going to work. You’re going to do your little catwalk strut down to the ring to your ridiculously awful music. People are going to boo because dear god, they’re going to have to sit through another one of your lackluster matches. And once you’re done boring them with what I’m sure you feel is a suitably snobbish little entrance, I’m going to come down that ramp like a woman on fucking fire and show you how it’s supposed to be done. It’s just that simple.”
OOC: Alright guys. I’m apologizing. A lot. This is not my best quality. They had me working stupid straight, and I’ve been having a lot of problems this week with my hands randomly going numb. Next one that goes up will be a million times better. Cross my heart.
That’s right, Godsmack’s ‘Cryin’ like a Bitch’, which, let’s face it, given the circumstances, it’s kind of fitting. We’re only treated to that opening refrain though before Lea stops, wearing an amused little smirk as she moves to return the instrument to it’s proper place. “You know, it’s funny, it really is. I mean, I could have been you...okay, so that’s not funny, it’s sickening. We’ve got a similar backgrounds. We both from money. My parents are practically rolling in cash. And growing up? I had every single luxury a kid could want. When I was sixteen they bought me a brand new Benz, private school, designer clothes, the works. Thing is? I never wanted any of it. And that’s the difference between you, and me. You’re weak. Weak willed, weak minded. You’re blinded by the dollar signs so you lead and empty, hollow, miserable, pathetic shell of a life. And me? Well let’s see. You’re twenty four, I’m twenty five, and let’s just run a few comparisons shall we? Your parents handed you a business on a silver platter. Me? I busted my ass, got my piloting license, and built a lucrative career chartering the rich and famous. Which has, by the way, afforded me a substantial list of connections you couldn’t even begin to dream of. I, busted my ass at fifteen, to buy my first bass, because I, decided at thirteen that I was going to be a rock star. My parents hated that idea. No, if they’re had it their heads that darling, precious little Lea, their youngest, she was going to be a debutante. A demure, well spoken, cultured young lady who actually cared what those idiots on the social page had to say...God did they ever get a rude awakening. You see, where you, were apparently content to be a stupid cunt and buy your way into being the stereotypical high school mean girl, I was busy kicking back mocking the dumb bitches like you. I mean let’s face it, you’re just another dime a dozen, bottle blonde, oversexed Barbie wannabe who doesn’t have an original bone in her fucking body. Natural Born Goddess? Really? Out of all the possibilities that’s what you choose to go with? Shit, could you get anymore unoriginal? Okay look, let me break this down for you. I don’t care what you think about me. Because I’ve been dealing with stupid cunts like you since grade school. I’m not here to impress you, I’m not here to impress the fans, management, or pretty much anyone behind the curtain. I’m here to impress one person, and that’s it. Because honestly? He’s the only person here worth trying to impress. So spare me okay? Spare me the stereotypical bullshit talk of “I’m better than you, blah blah blah” because I’ve heard it all before...fuck we’ve all heard it all before, and no one’s impressed.
Quite frankly, you’re a outright slap in the face to every woman who’s ever tried to succeed in anything based on merit of talent, ability, and skill. Because you fall into the cliche. All the people that want to treat women like they’re nothing more than eye candy? You just validate their opinions. Because that’s what you rely on. Your money, and your body to be your selling points. “Trillion Dollar Princess”? Well sweetheart, you’re about to have that diamond encrusted tiara knocked right the fuck off your head. Natural Born Goddess? Mmm, nah. Not in my book. You see, there’s something in your little bio page that caught my attention. You’ve been competing for just three years, and in that three year period, your name has been signed to eight different companies. You know what that tells me? You have no staying power. You’re a flash in the pan, and then you’re done. Which isn’t surprising really. People like you usually are. So let me tell you how this is going to work. You’re going to do your little catwalk strut down to the ring to your ridiculously awful music. People are going to boo because dear god, they’re going to have to sit through another one of your lackluster matches. And once you’re done boring them with what I’m sure you feel is a suitably snobbish little entrance, I’m going to come down that ramp like a woman on fucking fire and show you how it’s supposed to be done. It’s just that simple.”
OOC: Alright guys. I’m apologizing. A lot. This is not my best quality. They had me working stupid straight, and I’ve been having a lot of problems this week with my hands randomly going numb. Next one that goes up will be a million times better. Cross my heart.
SpartanLea- Proving Ground
-
Birthday : 1983-07-14
Age : 40
Zodiac :
Chinese Zodiac :
Location : USA
Number of posts : 3
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