Post by Sutton Francis on Aug 24, 2013 15:04:55 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-image:URL(http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy284/brooklynlolli/x0r3w0.png); border-left: 10px solid #1e1e1e; border-right: 10px solid #1e1e1e;] Sutton Elizabeth Francis  | Sutton | 19 | English | ------------------------------------------------- WELCOME, TAKE A SEAT. START OFF WITH YOUR NAME, HOW OLD ARE YOU? Sutton Francis strutted across the room, hips swaying ever so slightly, and took her seat, crossing her legs. Her signature beautiful smile reserved for the public's eyes set itself in place effortlessly. Most people struggled with interviews and maintaining poised appearances, but to Sutton, it all came naturally. This person, whoever it was, wasn't like everyone else, though. Just about anyone would've begun with something along the lines of 'That was quite an entrance, Miss Sutton. You're very beautiful.' To which, she would have replied with a charming grin, a rehearsed hair toss, and a thank-you. This person got straight to the point, and Sutton had to suppress her disappointment with this restriction to her coquettish antics and brilliant social mechanisms. "Sutton Francis, a name you'd recognize, no doubt. Christopher Francis' pretty little daughter of nineteen years? The unforgettable one? Just wait, it'll come to you sooner or later." And if you don't know me now, you certainly will soon enough. ------------------------------------------------- AWESOME. ARE YOU A LOCAL? "Quite the contrary. I'm actually from New York. The Upper East Side can be a bit - how should I put this? - stuffy after over eighteen years. Too many people want you know remember their name, try to get on your good side and associate themselves with one of Manhattan's finest." A bubbly giggle deliberately escaped her lips, and her coy smiled lifted into something brighter, something more childish. It was a part of an act that rarely let her down. "I lived there all my life, basking in the admiration of my peers and turning heads wherever I walked. It was a wonderful time, but now, I've moved on. Besides, how's a girl like me going to see Cali, long-term?" she continued with false lightness, determined not to let this person see right through her, no matter how imposing this current environment felt to her. ------------------------------------------------- NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED. GOT A BIG FAMILY? I'M AN ONLY CHILD. Sutton slightly inclined her head to the side, her blonde locks cascading in front of her shoulders once more. She knew this interview was heading towards a deeper conversation, so the 'little girl' act wouldn't last much longer. It was time for something new, something she was more talented with. "Ah, prying on the details of mine, are you? I suppose you're quite audacious, considering that I know nothing about you yet you strive to know more and more about me. I'd say that goes to show who's the more intriguing of the two of us," remarked Sutton with a voice like velvet, and snickered subtly. Her blue eyes portrayed a gleam of satisfaction with how smooth and even her words came out. Placing one hand by her cheek, Sutton shifted weight to the side, leaning towards her left and resting her elbow against the arm of the chair. Her legs remained crossed, her voice still smooth as silk. "Elise Bellefort-Francis is my mother. Indescribable beauties such as myself traditionally inherit their gorgeous appearance from their mothers, and I wish I could say the same in my case, but unfortunately, saying so would be lying. At least by most people's standards, she's what would be considered average-looking. Regardless of how graceful and poised she may be, it's all for little if she doesn't have the beauty to match, which is why she underwent extensive cosmetic surgery in order to appear as a magnificent yet artificial beauty." "I'm the youngest of the two daughters of the Francis family. My father Christopher runs the family like a king, or so he likes to think. The physical resemblance between us is remarkable, as everyone likes to point out, and it's very obvious whose good looks I take after. Honestly, he's always had his dreams of fame, fortune, and great power, and he's drawn in each member of the family into his big picture, but we get no say in how we work our way in. He always said, 'If you can't play your part, get the hell out of my house.' No matter how much money he has in his bank accounts, it's never as much as the man next door, but that's a story for another time. Perhaps even later in this discussion." And with a sly wink, she moved along. "My older sister Jacquelyn is nothing remarkable, and I say that out of honesty rather than cruelty. If she had been born into an average family, no one would know who she is. She has my father's attitude and my mother's looks - a dreadful combination, I know. She may be taller than me, but her darker hair, less desirable complexion, and less pronounced charm cause her to blend in with the background. Jackie and I never got on well. Over the years, she built what I could only jokingly call a superiority complex. As the oldest, she assumes the title of father's heir, but even I know we're not prominent enough of a family to afford extravagant dowries or run within the highest echelons of Upper East society. But I let her do what she likes, even though I take pleasure in riling her up. Of the two Francis daughters, she is the more egotistical and deluded. Like I said, she's nothing special." The contempt in her voice was intentionally made perceptible. There was no deception in how she described her less than admirable sister. A nonchalant hair toss and a small sigh, and Sutton had finished her details and views on Jackie. "If you were expecting something romantic or grand, I know this wasn't up to your expectations, but it is what it is, and not even you or I could change that." ------------------------------------------------- GO FIGURE. DO YOU THINK YOUR FAMILY SHAPED WHO YOU ARE AS A PERSON? Her silky light-blonde curls were tossed back nonchalantly, her fingertips gently brushing against the porcelain skin of her neck, and she placed her hands on the arms of the chair and arched her back. The pretty and poised girl her mother had dreamed of raising. "I think you're taking your role as my interviewer a little too seriously," she replied with a false lightness. "As long as you know as much about me as everyone else does, then your job is done." Sutton sat in silence for a few minutes, pretending to take an interest in her perfectly manicured nails, and she later averted her attention to her designer skirt, smoothening out the imaginary creases in the expensive fabric. It was true, she was testing this person's patience. Sly delays and passive-aggression composed her second interview antic. It was another pretense she used to conceal herself from others trying to see through her. Once she felt she had put off the answer long enough, Sutton smiled slightly and continued, her façade never faltering. "What shaped me into the beautiful woman I am today was not my family; if anything, they showed me what not to become. You'll never hear me admit having an ego problem because that would suggest there isn't justification to the conceited nature. Admiration was once like air to me; I lived off it and sought out all the praise I could garner. But eventually, all the compliments and the adoration became trivial, repetitive. 'Oh, you're so beautiful, Sutton!' and 'I love your hair and your eyes and the way you walk and charm!' Girls who single-mindedly praise you every moment of the day clearly only desire a share of your popularity, and the boys just want to share a bed. Residing on the Upper East Side didn't change the fact that they were all as subtle as a sledgehammer." "I'll shamelessly admit that even after my transformation from the superficial girl to the more matured woman I am today, I'm still the Sutton who brushes her hair and counts out two-hundred strokes in the morning and two-hundred before bed. I love my hair, and I can't bear to see it ruined! Then again, I love every part of my appearance, and I intensely groom myself so that I'm always presentable to the point where one of my greatest fears is receiving a scar." She shivered. "I suppose for men, scars are trivial. But for women, it mars our beauty, permanently tarnishing the first thing we see when we stare into a mirror." "I'm quite the social butterfly. Wrapping anyone and everyone around my finger is always great, but sometimes I just talk because I like to, and I do have friends who aren't sycophants. It's in my nature to carry conversations when I can, and I'm more observant than most. Learn enough about others to discover their true character. And reveal enough about myself to make me unforgettable. Despite everything, I am my father's daughter, and he always said, 'If someone ever forgets you, I will too.'" Her egotistic appearance faded, and she abruptly decided to try a more common angle, one less elusive, but still somewhat reserved. "Believe it or not, I'm actually a party girl, though that's still just one side of me. Galas where I dress up in French couture are elegant, but college parties with unrestricted chatter, unchoreographed dancing, and club attire are so much more fun! I always have to find a way to stand out, though it's never difficult for me. Stand out, or be forgotten, and like I said before, my father doesn't tolerate dry personalities." "I don't have my father's delusional mind or my mother's submissive nature. Instead, I have a love for shopping, clothes, perfumes, cosmetics, and anything else savored by a girl who once spent money as if it grew on trees. I started ballet when I was four, and I danced all the way through my childhood and past high school. It's more of a pleasure and a hobby than a fervent passion, but ballet really helps me forget the struggles in my life, even if only temporarily. Before, only shopping did that for me, but I can no longer rely on abusing my credit card. I'll explain why very soon." ------------------------------------------------- THATS DEEP, MAN. YOU SEEM PRETTY INTERESTING, YOU MUST HAVE AN INTERESTING BACK STORY, HM? "I always stood out in the crowd. It was all because of my natural looks at first, which were only enhanced with time. But as time went on, people began to think of me as 'pretty, bubbly, dumb Sutton' and there was no chance of me allowing that. So I improved my character, trained myself to impress others with my words and not just with my appearance. Subtlety is one of my many talents; it makes it more difficult for others to read you. People always want to know as much about you as they can. Don't give them the satisfaction." "As I've said, I was born and raised in Manhattan to an ambitious father, who cared much less for my being than he did for how I could be of use to him. When I was born and he saw how beautiful I was, he seemed as joyful as my mother because he would have a gorgeous daughter to show off to his associates, but his 'love' for me was, quite literally, only skin deep. I'm the second daughter, the spare child who, by tradition, will not inherit a cent of the family's wealth. But I'm actually content with that. Jacquelyn is the eldest, so by definition, she is Father's heiress." "Jacquelyn has always been jealous of me, and I can tell by the look in her eyes whenever I receive admiration and praise in her presence. She's too proud to admit it, but she does a poor job hiding her covetousness of my beauty, my popularity, and my social nature. When she thinks I'm not looking, she shops at the same stores I do and sprays on my perfume. And if you look in her gaudy wardrobe, you'll find that she wears her dresses two sizes too small, just because she wants my Size 2 figure, but she isn't fooling anybody, and she certainly isn't fooling me. Although she likes to think she holds dominance over me as the elder child of four years, I have no respect for her position. Jacquelyn is uncharismatic and unjustifiably conceited, and the irritated reactions I get from her when I call her Jackie bring me a lot of satisfaction. Her fits of anger are quite amusing to watch." "We may be an impressive family, but my father has been unsuccessfully striving to break into the highest echelons of society, and like everyone else, he's capable of envy. My father has observed the man next door so closely for as long as I can remember. The man who has always been that slight bit wealthier than my father, whose wife and mistress were more beautiful, whose estate was that much larger. His only pride over that man was me. I'm the daughter he shows off at all the parties and events in hopes that I will seduce some son of a multimillionaire or even a billionaire, and he completely undermines my efforts to be more than a pretty girl with a tiny waist, perfect hair, and a magnetic air to her. I wasn't going to let him define me, and much to his anger, I was not a whore, and I never will be." "When I was sixteen, I noticed my father's luxurious taste showed less prominently in what he brought home. The diamond jewelry sets he bought for my mother became less expensive; his car was downgraded; and we dined in highly refined and prestigious restaurants far less often. I could tell our family's wealth was depleting quickly, and considering my father's unrealistically lavish taste that overshadowed the amount of money he actually possessed, I wasn't surprised for very long. However, he was too stubborn to make any blatantly obvious changes to our lifestyle." "It was my seventeenth birthday when my father slapped my face for the very first time. For my 'present', he had laid a marriage contract in front of me and revealed he was in negotiations with a multimillionaire business mogul for me to marry his eldest son. I was seventeen, for God's sake! Hell would freeze over before I gave up what freedom I had left to marry some boy who would only see me as a prize. And for what? So Father could have everything he wanted at the cost of mine? I outright refused to accept, and I didn't even care to be subtle then. 'No' was my answer; it's the same now; and even if he had done the same to me when I was eight, I still would have defied him to my last breath. He had always feared tarnishing my natural beauty, but I suppose he felt there wouldn't be any physically-permanent damages that would result from him slapping me so hard my head snapped to the side and my hair flew wildly around to cover the stinging mark left on my cheek by his hand." "After that experience, my father put an end to all false efforts of deluding me into viewing him as a loving man. Not that he ever did well in the first place. Even my mother tried to avoid being near me for too long, fearing that she might be drawn into any confrontation between Father and I. Jackie was as aloof as always, but I didn't let her satisfaction of seeing me slapped get the best of me. However, my continuous victory over my sister didn't make up for the fact that my life in Father's home went from tiresome to unbearable." "After I finished high school, my father had the audacity to present the contract once more. He received a similar response, except this time, I replied with more than just a passive-aggressive rejection. I slapped the documents out of his hand and let them fall to the floor, and when he demanded I pick them up, I refused. I didn't care about appearing collected in front of my family anymore; they never cared for me like a family should. I was a bargaining chip to my father, a pretty face to my mother, and a brat to my pushover of a sister. I was a beloved daughter to no one, a cherished sister to not even my only sister. So when I declared I was leaving for California and never looking back, my father set the timer on his iPhone for one hour and told me I had to be fully packed and out of his sight by the time the bell chimed. I still remember my mother's eyes filled with tears, and at that moment, I felt remorseful for neglecting her thoughts. But those feelings immediately dissipated when I overheard her crying to Jackie how her only beautiful daughter grew up to be so rebellious. She had my cold shoulder at 'rebellious.' She had Jackie's at 'her only beautiful daughter.'" "So here I am, living off of the money I saved up from allowances, birthdays, and other events. The students here all view me as the pampered and spoiled girl I once was, as glamorous as I once saw myself everyday in the mirror. As stunningly beautiful as I know I still am, I'm not quite what they all see, but this secret dies with me." ------------------------------------------------- MAYBE I SHOULDN'T HAVE ASKED. ANYWAY, THATS IT. THANKS FOR YOUR TIME. Sutton uncurled her legs and placed her hands on her hips in response to her interviewer's somewhat dismissive attitude. She probably revealed more than she should have, but she had antagonized her heartless family more than she had herself. Her voice was still smooth and even; not even her revelations could rob her of that at this moment. "You seemed so much more fascinated in me than yourself, so I thought I'd entertain you for what it's worth. I have friends waiting on me at the mall now, so I hope you'll understand when I say 'It's been a pleasure, but a social butterfly cannot stay in one place forever!'" ------------------------------------------------- THE PERSON BEHIND THIS WONDERFUL CHARACTER IS GENERALLY CALLED TIFFANY AND SITS AT SEVENTEEN. SHE LIVES IN THE U.S. EASTERN TIMEZONE. ALSO, THIS CHARACTER LOOKS PRETTY SIMILAR TO CANDICE SWANEPOEL, DON'T YOU THINK? |
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