(. give us a try.

[CECELIA ZEPPELIN ROBINS]

-------- one year. fifty two weeks. three hundred and sixty five days. twenty one thousand and nine hundred hours. one million , three hundred and fourteen thousand minutes. that's how long cecelia zeppelin robins knew levi owen jones. that's how long ago they first met. that was when they first slept together. she couldn't believe that she knew the boy that long. cece figured that a good way to celebrate this momentous occasion was to go out and have a little fun with him. just a few months ago , she was crazy drunk and got a tattoo of his name. cece had freaked out at the sight of it but she actually enjoyed it now. it was written in ornate and a kind of medivieal font. she usually traced thec ursive L on her lower hip , smiling as she remembered what happened that night.

-------- cece had gone out with a couple friends and got completely hammered. the more she drank , the more crazier she got. kissing her friends , putting on little shows , impersonaiting celebrities and just having a good time. at around three in the morning , the six drunk friends show up in a tattoo parlor and wanted to get something done. cece was the last one to get inked and she couldn't decide on what to get. one of her friends suggested a name and levi's name popped into her head. the drunken mess named cece told the tattoo artist and in twenty minutes , it was done. cece had grown to like but still hadn't told the older boy , thinking he might hate it.

-------- she stood in front of the mirror , disgusted by the small food baby she starting to have. cecelia ran a thin hand over her stomach , drumming her fingers over it and giving a small laugh as she pulled at the waistband of her underwear , hiking them up. cece stepped away from the mirror , trying to find something semi - decent to wear. the twenty two year old decided on a black and beige strapless dress. she slipped it on and took a quick glance at herself. cece smiled at her outer appearance and grabbed her phone , car keys , purse and a videocamera. you know , for posterity and such.

-------- she locked up and left , her heels clicking against the weird linoleum in the hallways. a few of her neighbors gave a wave and she gave a smile in return as she left the building. cece finally reached her vehicle , sighing as she saw a parking ticket underneath one of the windshield wipers. she muttered a few curses and go into the car before driving off , not really believing in buckling up or even taking the ticket out from underneath the wiper. cece headed to the nearest liquor store and walked in , getting a couple weird looks from the local boozers. she had no idea what levi actually drank , so she just chose a variety. tequila , wine , vodka , almost every type of liquor she could find , it was in her arms. cece headed towards the counter and paind the man before leaving , getting into her car and heading towards levi's apartment , turning up her loud music , pressing the accelerator to the floor , eager to get there.

-------- cece heard a familiar song on the radio , getting drawn back into that fateful night that she met levi owen jones. it was some random concert that she was dragged to by a couple of her friends. she didn't even want to go in the first place. cece heard the music was bad , the seating was terrible and the overall atmosphere was just atrocious. but of course , she had owed her friends big time for skipping out on the last show. cece dressed up in a denim skirt and some band t-shirt that she got when she last visited the united states. the minute she stepped into that crowded bar room , her mood went from bored to interested. there were so many people and it amazed her that this many people showed up to go see a shitty band. after a couple hours and a few tequila shots , she was dancing to the music and enjoying herself. cece's friends had ditched her around one a.m. , so she was alone for the rest of the night. a drunk cecelia is not a good cecelia. she starts believing that everybody is her friend and she'll fall head over heels for anyone that shows a little bit of interest in her. after another hour of just dancing and enjoying crap music , she headed back to the bar for a few more rounds of tequila shots. at the bar was a man with jet black hair , eyeliner and a few dozen tattoo's up and down his arms. cecelia bought him a drink and sat down , starting a conversation. they started talking for the next three hours. after the bar started emptying and the guy announced it was closing time , cece was disappointed. she figured that he would invite her back to his place for a few rounds of the horizontal tango. as she was leaving , she kissed him good night and didn't even find out his name. he invited her back to his place and she eventually did find out his name. levi owen jones. after making out , having sex , making out some more , having a little more sex , she left. cece , being the hot drunken mess that she was , left her phone there. he called her and she went back to his place and retrieved it. for the entire week , they hung out. talking , kissing , having a good old time. she did sneak him into her dorm a couple times and it was hilarious to her having him fall out the window so he wouldn't get caught. things were good for the two. or so she thought.

-------- cece managed to make it to his place in time , without getting another ticket for speeding and loud music. she turned on the video camera , grabbed on the liquor she could and walked up to his doorstep. the girl knocked rather obnoxiously and turned the camera to face her. " saturday , june sixth , two thousand and nine. party time." she laughed and pointed the camera at the door , waiting for him to open up.

[/b] done..
attire, hot mess. but not the creeper hair.
notes, cute messing with people's head plot.
words, one thousand , one hundred and sixty five.
music, change your mind - boyce avenue
credit, to chelsea for layout.[/ul][/color]
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[LEVI OWEN JONES]

SPIN, spin, spin. Churn, churn, and churn. Feeling nauseous. Every time he watched the blades spin another never ending spin, Levi’s stomach dropped a little more. His vision was starting to blur around the edges, the black washout coming along with the jarring feeling in his stomach. This was why he needed a hobby. Not that sitting in his bed, in the dark, and watching the ceiling fan spin was a good leisurely pursuit, it was. Just not healthy. His doctor warned him he would wreck his eyesight even more if he kept up his habit of living like a hermit, scuttling around in the dark because he didn’t like mirrors anymore. Levi said hooey, and went home immediately after he’d badgered and hustled a prescription update from the doctor. He didn’t necessarily need the medicine anymore, but he needed something normal in his life. Something scheduled. Not nonstop chaos, as he saw it. Something it help him control his day to day routine. This consisted of waking up, or just getting up from his desk, his bones creaking and snapping, reminding him how long he’d been still. Then maybe some sort of dry toast, sit around more, go out, harass the public, go to work, come home. Do it again. He just wanted something a little different from being moody and lashing out on people in his spare time. Levi was ready for anything. The other day he’d taken Nyquil Nite during the day, just to see if he could fight the medicine, and stay away. He couldn’t. At least he’d found a sure way for sleeping now.

THE fan was up to no good. Every spin brought Levi a little closer to losing the water and pills he’d scarfed down earlier in a vain attempt to get rid of his headache. All the pills did was made him light headed, and when he tried to read the label of the bottle, it was a lost hope. All he could make out was the little winky eye on the label, and that sent him into a fit of giggles, not even caring what the fine print said. The fine print said “take two every four hours, if symptoms occur, daily maximum eight”. Levi had nearly surpassed that daily in take, give or take two. At least his headache had vacated his head. But he’d been so dizzy, he couldn’t even stand or think about standing, so it had been to bed for him. However now the fan was tormenting him, making his eyes roll back slightly in the delusion of the blades speeding up. No more lying down, he told himself, sitting up carefully and unreasonably slow, afraid of throwing up. But then he figured why bother, and sat up straight, the head rush hitting him head on like a fifty ton truck. The rush mostly felt good, despite the fact his vision blacked out completely, and his arms felt numb. Maybe he was dying. As promising as that sounded, what with his debts and how it would put an end to his constant cycle, Levi still had a few more things to do in his life. Like get up from where he’d fallen after his near black out, and try to get his legs to resemble flesh and bone, not jelly.

THE hallway still reeked of bleach. Whenever he was off from work, Levi would often lock himself into a room, and just clean until he was ready to pass out. Maybe that’s where he got his frequent headaches from. His knees still had grooves in them from kneeling on the tiles of his washroom for so long, using a toothbrush to scrub at the mildew in the cracks of the tiles. Ammonia does quite the trick on black mold and the sinuses. Even now, a few hours later, with the washroom fan running, Levi’s eyes still started to water when he wandered past the washroom, feeling weightless. Like he could float. Maybe something had just finally snapped in him. His body had enough of the drugs and the alcohol, and the never ending abuse from him. The lack of sleep and not showering enough had finally driven his body to give up, and fail. He considered it, dropping himself onto the couch, almost sitting on his cat. The cat mewled, trying to struggle away, it’s foot caught underneath his leg. Levi didn’t do anything to help the cat, but when it swiped at him, he just scooped up the cat. Cooing at it and cradling it to his chest, he got a paw against the cheek, the cat giving up, and leaning its head back, giving out a weak meow to signify it’s defeat. Perhaps his body was shutting down, because he swore his cat’s grey fur smelt…well, grey. Apparently synesthesia was a sign of him finally losing his marbles. The poor thing was shedding fur, and thrashing for dear life, so Levi decided enough was enough torture, and put Edgar down on the floor again. Edgar thanked him by slashing at his shins, and hightailed it away from his owner. Maybe to go sniff more fumes.

OKAY. It was definitely synesthesia. The vapors that had travelled down the hallway, down his nose, and into his throat had a distinct white taste about them. White usually wasn’t good. But then again, it probably wasn’t good if he tasted things in color]. But that was just Levi Jones. Asking him to not be irrational and insane for a minute was like asking the sky to be green. Or asking an ostrich to try and fly. Or asking him to choose between ambient and Zoloft. He couldn’t just depend on one. He needed both. Day and night, love and hate, insane and sane. You couldn’t have one without the other. Levi and hospital trips. There were too many examples he could pull off the top of his head. The loud knocking at the door seemed to echo in his under furnished, and quiet apartment. He sat for a few moments, thinking about answering the door. If he did, that meant he’d have to turn on lights. Lights meant mirrors were visible. And he didn’t feel like explaining his new superfluous hate for mirrors, and his own reflection. It was just his flavor of the week. The new thing for him to use an excuse to feel terrible. Levi had dozens of reasons to be happy and content, but he felt like it was easier to be a shitty person. Fighting against those extra muscles it took to frown, he would rather grimace. Maybe he just wanted attention. Look up attention whore in a dictionary, and you’d find a picture of him, and sob story for your attention.

THE thought of attention and someone to pretend they could nurse him into feeling better or just even caring made him drag himself to his feet. Edgar had already slinked back into the room, seeing if the coast was clear, his yellow eyes the last things flashing at Levi before he turned on the light. Because he didn’t want to come as a complete hermit. Just for safe measures, he turned on the television, leaving it on a high enough setting to make it seem like he’d had it up high so he could pay attention. There was a dozen more tricks he could do to make his house seem inhibited, and not just some empty shell of a home, he just settled for the television, and flicked on more lights as he headed to the door, ignoring the mirror propped up against the wall near the door. He was sure he looked like hell ran over him twice, because god forbid he not be in one of his moods. His “moods” could be defined as periods of time in which Levi turns into a little pratt who sucks the life out of anyone who strays too close, and all he could do in this time frame is bitch and whine. But then, when wasn’t he in one of those funks?

HE pulled open the door, a little startled at the camera pointing in his general direction. He huffed out a sigh, and batted the camera away, shoving her hand to point it at the floor. “Come on, I look like crap.” No hello. It was usually how he started conversations. He was ready to put on a pouty face, and silently demand for attention, but then he eyed the bottles cluttering her arm. His eyes flashed with something close to need, and he leaned over, casually plucking out from out of her grasp, before propping the door open for her to come in. he tried to tear open the top of the bottle by cramming it into the side of his mouth, clenching his teeth, and twisting the bottle. “It’s kind of like a clubhouse. Except no passwords,” he murmured, slurring out around the metal, drooling a little. He gave up on being barbaric, and slipped the bottle out of his mouth. “You just bring booze, and you can come in.”

_{wordcount, 1520. buuuh. rambled.
outfit, im so lazy. uh. here, just you know. minus the bike and sunglasses.
notes, uh, so that took me like. a week and a half |: sorry. also, sucky. blegh.
muzac, fairweather friend - cash cash.}

[CECELIA ZEPPELIN ROBINS]

-------- She had a neat , exquisite face , deep , dim eyes , and a sensitive , swollen mouth. If she pouted just right , she would appear to be on the verge of tears. Cece dropped her smile when he opened the door. Afraid he would th ink she was too happy or too alive. She wanted acceptance. She wanted someone to need her , love her , respect her. Cece wasn't getting that from Levi. On the stage , she was a bolt of lightning in a white Chanel dress. She turned and gave a look. T humping music took you into the lower body , where the valves and pistons were working. Most days you could catch a dark whiff of mint , the sweetness of cherries, and the anger of an abandoned girl. Cece was like her mother in a lot of ways. Elegance and ugliness together. She'd take a sip of her coffee , properly dab her lips , and call her boyfriend a cunt. But the sad thing was that her mother was a cheater. Her mother was going for elegance and ugliness when she dressed her adultery in earrings , fancy pantsuits , and heels. But she couldn't do it right. Her mother went with her to her first meeting with her agent. They had arrived at a building of gold and glass. In the elevator , they stared silently at the numbers above the automatic door as they lighted up and dimmed in a quick sideways motion. The secretary was a lady with a pulled back , noisy face. Her suit looked like an artistic vase she'd been placed in up to her neck. The first man Cece had ever worked with and loved was Rene Gaitskill. He was a French actor and she fell head over heels for him. It was Cece's first show in a foreign country and her mother had just died. When she had arrived at the airport , invisible speakers filled the airport with huge voices she couldn't understand. Cece walked with a great mass of people through a cloud of voices , aiming for the baggage claim. She was distracted by a man in a suit coming towards her with a bouquet of roses and a white bag that looked like a miniature pillowcase half full of sugar. His body was slim and his head was big. Deep furrows in his lower face pulled his small lips into a fleshy beak. His lips made her think of a spider drinking blood with pure blank bliss. Suddenly , he saw her. He stopped , and his beak burst into a beauitful broad smile that transformed him from a spider into a gentleman. ” I am Rene,” he said. ”You are for Chalque Agency , no ?” Yes , she was. He took one of her bags and handed her the roses. He took her other bag , put it on the floor , and kissed her hand. In a flash , she understood. Seeing her had made him a gentleman and he loved her for it. She loved him , too. ”It is Cynthia , yes ?” ” No. “ she said. ”Cecelia.”

-------- He had her get into his sleek white car and he opened the white silk bag. He brought his car key out and scooped cocaine out. He placed the key under one winged nostril and briskly inhaled. They passed the key back and forth for a few moments. Finally , he licked it and put it in the ignition. He said , ”Cecelia , you are a beautiful girl. And now you are in a country that understands beauty. Enjoy it.” He started the car. The drug hit her heart. Its hard pounding spread through her body in long dark ripples and for a second , she was afraid. Then she stepped inside the electrical current and let it knock her out. They pulled out of the lot and into the Parisian traffic. Cece had read about paris in school. It was a place where ladies wore jewels and branches of flowers , even live birds in tiny cages woven into their huge wigs. The whipping boy sometimes played chess with the prince. The Marquis de Sade painted asylum inmates with liquid gold and made them recite poety until they died. Charlotte Corday stabbed Marat butt naked in the tub. Cece looked at the car speeding next to them , a plain girl with glasses on the end of her nose frowned and hunched forward. She cut them off and Rene muttered a soft curse. American pop music came out of her car in a blur. Huge office complexes sat silent in fields brimming with bright green desire. Rene asked what she wanted to do. She told him she wanted to swim. On the street , people waiting for the light to change frowned and glanced at their watches. Rene waited for her in the car while she went into the agency. It was a medium-sized building with a shiny door on a cobbled street. The doorman had mad blue eyes and a beautiful white gloves The halls were carpeted in aqua. Voices and laughter came from behind a door. It opened and there was a woman with one kind eye and one cruel eye. Behind her was a man looking at her from inside an office. His look held her like a powerful hand. A girl's small white face peeped around the corner of the same office. The hand let go of her. The girl blinked and withdrew. ”Where is your luggage ?” asked the double – eyed woman. ”With Rene , outside.” Cece replied. ”Rene ?” She rolled her eyes back in her head. When they came forward again , they were both cruel. ”Very well. Here.” She handed her a piece of paper. ”This is a list of all the things you need to do for tomorrow and Wednesday.” That year and a half changed her life.

-------- She pouted with a defeated look as he pushed her hand away. When his skin made contact with her's , endorphins rushed throughout her and she gave a nod. Her skin ultra-sensitive. ” Noooo. You are looking adorable.” She whined , disagreeing with him and licking her lip. Cece always disagreed with him , knowing it made him feel better. Anything to please the boy in front of her. She watched him closely for any sign that he would compliment her. He made a grab for a bottle and let her in. Cece watched him struggle with the bottle and stepped in , removing her heels and becoming the same height as him. He said something and nodded. ”Figured that much. I'm afraid I might not have known the password. Shame if I couldn't see you.” She whispered the last part , almost ashamed. He removed the bottle and spoke. Cece didn't look at him and placed the booze on the couch and opened the videocamera back up. ”Do you know what tonight is ?” She asked , watching the red dot shine. Cece didn't let him answer and smiled. ”It has been one year since we met. One year since we slept together.” She let out a giggle and moved around the room in her bare feet , filming him from every angle. ” I wanted to celebrate. If that's alright with you.” She ran a hand over where her tattoo was and smiled to herself.

[/b] done..
attire, hot mess. but not the creeper hair.
notes, this shall be bad. c:
words, one thousand and three hundred and forty seven.
music, some johnny cash song.
credit, to chelsea for layout & caution for text.[/ul][/color]
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