[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JC6q4tkTH-8][img]https://i.imgur.com/A9FSVwe.png[/img][/url]

[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/zmbRAlPDXQVYA/giphy.gif[/img]

[color=slategray][sub][b]Location: Ophelia’s Room
Featuring:[/b] [color=eda946][b]Ophelia “I’m A Piece of Shit” Brycen[/b][/color]
[b]Interacting with:[/b] [color=F1CBFF][b]Cassandra Clark[/b][/color][@smarty0114] via text[/sub][/color][/center]
[hr][hr]
[indent][indent]Ophelia had a lot on her mind lately. She had come to the realization, maybe a few weeks ago, that manipulating the break up of Owen and Trixie was probably a bad thing. At the time, though, Ophelia hadn’t felt like she’d had much of a choice. Hailey had put pressure on her, like never before, and it had been kind of scary! Like, what was she to do? Tell Hailey to get bent and do it herself? Then, Ophelia [i]and[/i] Trixie would be sad and forlorn, because Hailey would have fucked them both. And not even in the good way.

She stared into the mirror she was seated in front of and ran a hand through her blonde hair. Looking into her own eyes, Ophelia had a sad a realization. She had a very real, very powerful guilty conscience. She suspected she got this from her mother. She didn’t know her parents [i]really[/i] well enough to judge, they were always off on adventures, but she knew her grandparents relatively well. Neither of her paternal grandparents was ever guilty, about anything. On the other hand? Her maternal grandparents were both almost always guilty about something. Ophelia assumed this was because of some dark secret they held, but it nonetheless pushed her to assume the guiltiness inside of her was from her mother.

The guilt over ruining what had made Trixie happy for so long was earth shattering for her. It didn’t help that she couldn’t really tell her friends about what she’d done — Cassie knew, but no one else did. If she told Marshall, what would he think!? He hated cheaters, and she’d engineered a fake cheating scenario to push Owen away from the love of his life. Marshall would hate her. Trixie would certainly hate her. Owen [i]already[/i] hated her, which made attending the Lyon family dinners rather awkward, and a [i]wee bit[/i] terrifying. If looks could kill, Ophelia would be pushing up daisies by now.

If it weren’t for Kylie getting angry with Grandpa Bash over something, and keeping her little family away from the family dinners, then Ophelia feared Owen would have ended it all for her by now. Luckily, the last few had been relatively peaceful! Just after school, though, she’d been told that Kylie’s family would be back at the next dinner. By Ophelia’s math, that gave her until Saturday to live a full and fruitful life!

At least she had a party to look forward to, that was a positive thing, right? Ophelia was waiting for the two people she was responsible for delivering to the party, sitting in front of her mirror and putting a few finishing touches on her look for evening. She was effortlessly attractive, yes, but with a bit of work, she upgraded into a blonde bombshell. However, the young woman knew enough about appearance to know that baseline looks weren’t everything.

What really mattered was how you carried yourself. Two people could be hot, but if one radiated self-confidence, and the other had a clear lack of self-esteem, then most people would flock to the confident one. It was a matter of charisma, who had the ‘it factor.’ Ophelia understood and acknowledged that. Plus, she had a fantastic teacher. Belle in her younger years had been a bit of a social chameleon, and being raised by her, Ophelia had adapted a lot of her tactics.

Ophelia looked into the mirror and saw herself maskless. She was a sad, guilt ridden, pathetic looking young woman, but she was an expert at social situations. No one ever knew she was sad, unless she wanted them to. She hid her emotions behind a perfect mask, and emulated and pretended like she was as confident and as proud as ever, when the reality was she had done something that no one should be proud of. She had ruined one of her best friend’s lives, and in the same breath created the monster of Owen Lyon that they’d seen at Damian’s party.

She wasn’t long for this world. By her reckoning, she had until Saturday before she faced, well, her [i]reckoning[/i]. If Owen’s attitude and general air at the beach party had been a show of things to come, then she was dead. She didn’t want to die holding this guilt. If, and only if, she had a chance at the party tonight to catch Trixie alone, then she would spill the beans. Maybe then Ophelia could be [i]really[/i] happy again.

[color=ea4664][b]“Miss Ophelia? There’s a young woman at the door for you.”[/b][/color] Ophelia’s Assistant spoke up, breaking the trance she’d found herself in. A young woman?

Oh, it must be Kit. Ophelia paused for a moment, taking a moment to compose herself, breathing slowly and deeply. After a few seconds of quietness, she smiled into the mirror, happy to see that once again, she had the mask of happiness back on her face. [color=eda946][b]“Okay, send her up. And can you give me a keyboard so I can text Cassie? She’s not here yet.”[/b][/color]

[color=ea4664][b]“Of course.”[/b][/color]

After the Assistant spoke again, the mirror glossed over, before revealing a small keyboard on the LCD screen. Ophelia reached out with a hand and smiled.

[color=eda946][b]“Thank you, Lara.”[/b][/color]

[quote][b]To:[/b] [color=F1CBFF][b]Bae[/b][/color]

[color=eda946][b]kit here. youre not here. kit too young to kiss. hurry.[/b][/color][/quote][/indent][/indent]