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Wren had to hand it to her PA; he had an efficient organizational system and an enviable eye for interior design. Her room had a regal look about it, with its lavish furnishings, all with ornate golden trims. The walls were lined with all of her favorite movie posters as well, all cased in custom-made embellished frames. She smiled at the sight and walked over to the most precious one in her collection, the one that had her mother staring fiercely ahead, poised like the freaking queen. It was the movie that made her mother a legend. She swelled in pride and zeal and determination all at once, as she always did whenever she thought about her mother, then moved on to inspect the rest of her room with a slight giddiness. Wren took a moment to familiarize herself with everything, looking over and sorting through her wardrobe, vanity, and bathroom, before rejoining her new roommate outside. 

The rest of the week went by in a flash. Wren fell into routine almost immediately: up by 5:45, exercise, shower, skin regimen, painstakingly choose outfit, breakfast. If she still has some time to kill before she needs to head out, then she would do little acting exercises or reply to some fan tweets (reaching out to the fans was absolutely necessary!). Most of the day was then spent socializing, with Julie or her other friends, and every once in a while, she would have to touch base with her agent or her publicist. 

[center]… ★ …[/center]

Sunday arrived sooner than she expected, and although the day's festivities got her excited, the sweltering heat that was forecasted was less than ideal. She had to be extra careful under the sun— it was explicitly stated in one of her contracts, which meant she was actually obligated to follow—so constant application of sunscreen was imminent. The weather also severely limited her outfit selection, but Wren took as long to pick out her clothes as she normally would. She decided after careful deliberation to already don her bikini, a simple black set given to her after a photoshoot, and wore form-fitting denim short shorts and a loose pale pink tank top. Wren felt rather short without heels, but anything other than flats would only be an inconvenience today. She planned on enjoying as many activities as she could, and she'll be damned if she let shoes cost her some fun. There was no need for make-up as well, although she had incredibly effective waterproof ones. Finally, her hair was up in a purposely messy bun, with a few wavy strands framing her face elegantly. 

Wren smiled at her reflection in approval and then applied the first of many layers of sunscreen. She was embarrassingly super pumped up for this picnic. Was she acting too much like a child? But you can run around with water guns and get a chance to dunk one of the teachers! It was the best way to start a potentially stressful year of school. Smiling again at the thought, Wren grabbed a pair of oversized sunglasses and finally set off.

"See you down there, Jules!" she called as she passed through the living room. "I have to check if the snow cone machine I rented got set up."

By the time she got to the picnic area, there were already quite a number of people there, student and teachers alike. She found that her snow cone machine was indeed set up next to the potluck table, so she was now free to socialize as she pleased. It hurt to admit that her eyes were instantly drawn to the British native hanging around the infamous prank master—because, [i]seriously[/i], what the hell was wrong with her?!—but she immediately looked away and scanned for someone else she could talk to. Mr. Hawthorne was off by the grill with her favorite no-nonsense Australian teacher, and although she hadn't a clue what they were talking about, Wren only had to follow the vice principal's gaze to find out where Acacia was. She giggled when it worked, and was content to find the girl in question dallying by the parking lot with none other than Eliza. 

"Hey!" Wren said, already running toward the two older girls excitedly. She hadn't seen them in quite a while! In her haste to join them, unfortunately, she had crashed against a solid frame with a tuft of messy back hair. She barely stumbled from the impact, but in her attempt to save the cornbread she accidentally knocked from his hand, she slipped and fell with a thud.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Aldrin... or is it Principal Aldrin? Mr. Principal?" she laughed a little, clearly a bit disoriented from the fall. "I successfully saved your cornbread, though!"