HOW COULD YOU BE SO HEARTLESS ?

[rebekah everett sinclaire]

please pay attention tonight ,
BECAUSE IT IS THE BEGINNING OF ALWAYS

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all her life, rebekah had always been comfortable in who she was. a sinclaire, thoroughly australian in upbringing, and possessing a very upright moral compass. she'd been taught from the time she could barely walk that you catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar, and that was a major part of who she was today. her mother had been a very important woman in her life, her guiding light, while her father had been her stable and protective rock. it was hard to go wrong with the two of them for parents, creating an image for their only child she longed to keep with her. but how was she able to trust when it seemed as though everything they'd been telling as she grew up was a lie? she could remember the day very well. it had been a tuesday, a few days after she'd gotten her acceptance letter to the New York Academy for the Arts, under a full scholarship. She'd been sitting in the studio they'd made for her out back, staring at blank music sheets as she struggled to pull the notes for a composition straight out of her soul. She'd just put her fingers to the black and ivory of the piano when the door opened, and she'd turned to see both her parents standing there.

now, there were a lot of things that rebekah might have expected them to say. like, we're so proud of you, here's a car for your going away present! or we've decided to help you pay your rent for a while, until you get on your feet!. not, sweetheart, there's something we need to talk to you about... we know you'll probably be upset with us, but please know that anything we ever do is just to protect you and we keep you in our best interests. at that point, bex was prepared for them to tell her that one of them was dying or something. she was prepared for the worst her gentle heart could take... but it seemed like those preparations had been in vain when they had told her quietly that she was adopted. at first, she wasn't sure she'd heard them right. that was impossible. people told her all the time that she looked exactly like her mother, that it was the same pale skin and fragile look they had to them. but then they quietly explained everything. adopted by a family that moved to new york city shortly after, that they didn't know much about save for that their name was 'sanders'. well gee, that was a load of help. the only thing they told her other than that was that they thought she should know if she was going there for college, and she wanted to try and find them.

they'd tried to justify their actions, and bex, in an act that was so unlike her, gave them the cold shoulder the rest of the week as she packed for college and new york... except, she had a whole new purpose there, now. they really couldn't think that if they told her that, she would just not even attempt to look up her biological parents. she had questions. like, why did they give her up? why would they want to give up a helpless little baby? the more she thought about it, the more she understood why they might. at a very young age, she'd suffered from a series of heart problems when she'd attempted to play soccer during the summer. her parents had taken her in, and they'd diagnosed her with a heart disease called HCM. she was able to take medicine for it, to keep it at bay for a while, but it didn't make her feel alive. she felt slow, sluggish on the medication, and after a while, she'd stopped taking it, taking a pill out and flushing it down the toilet when she was supposed to be taking it. it wouldn't bother her anymore, she told herself. bex wasn't going to play anymore sports, she had her music to worry about. so, she wouldn't have to worry about this heart disease... but had her biological parents? had they known that she would have this disease, and so that was why they got rid of her?

bex didn't have any of the answers she wanted, and she wasn't satisfied with the ones her parent kept on trying to give her. however, by the time she left home two fridays later, she had made up with her parents and she had a sense of peace that time when she boarded the flight to NYC. a sense of peace that no matter what type of people she found in new york, she'd still have her identity wich belonged to the people she knew for certain loved her back in sydney. the relief was short lived, however. the moment she stepped off the plane, picked up her baggage, and tried to find her way to the apartment she was renting, the atrocity called traffic made her as tight as an uncurled yo-yo. crazy drivers in new york, she remembered thinking to herself as they drove through the crowded streets, as she stared up at the towering sky scrapers. when she saw her apartment for the first time, it was all she could do to keep from jumping up and down with delight. this was the beginning of something new and exciting, no matter how things turned out with her search for her biological parents. new york was big. she never had to run into them again.

immediately, bex got a job with a catering company to help scrounge some extra cash together. her first job was the coming saturday, so she had time to continue unpacking and exploring the city. her first shock came that friday evening, after a long day out in the city of getting lost, when she'd logged on the internet and started a chat with a girl called savannah. that had to have been one of the most shocking conversations of her life. really, the long and short of it was that apparently... she had a twin. according to this girl she'd never met, she had a twin named carter marie sanders. unless this girl was just a cruel human being, she had no reason not to believe her when she said that her best friend looked exactly like bex. that was certainly more than she had bargained for, and it had opened up a strange hole in her heart: why keep one daughter when you could have had both? the thought plagued her every waking minute, no matter how hard she tried to push it from her mind, even when she went to that hotel dressed in her black pants, red and white striped vest, white shirt.. the whole 'waitress' outfit completely down. she tucked a white towel into her pocket just in case she tripped or something: normally she was very graceful, but occasionally she had bouts of clutziness she wished didn't exist. it seemed like in no time at all, the upper class of the new york seemed to be flooding into the hotel, and her job was beginning. rebekah pulled her dark hair back into a pony tail, letting some strands fall back into her face, as she picked up a tray of glasses of champagne, and swept into the crowded room. it was as if in no time flat, all the glasses were gone. they really knew how to drink here, apparently. bex sighed, and made her way back to the bar to get some more drinks for her tray. it was going to be a long night, she was sure of it.

---

TAGGED freddie clarke (kiki bby!)
STATUS done!
LISTENING TO heartless by kris allen
NOTES RAWR! this makes me excited. like.. hardcore. bwaha.
CLOTHES click the picture, fool.

[frederick mercury clarke]

Today was supposed to be just like any other day, and if you were Freddie Clarke then that was a pretty damn good day.

He woke up to a gourmet breakfast, tailored down to each detail to suit him. That was his favorite part of the morning, eating exactly what he wanted, prepared to near perfection. After he shook off most of his sleepiness, he went to the bathroom and took a shower, changing into the clothes that his personal stylist had laid out for him. In the time that he'd been taking a shower, his bed had already been made and his room had been tidied, all by the cleaning staff in the employment of the family. Freddie casually strolled to the window and looked out at the Manhattan cityscape, a small, arrogant smile curling up the corners of his lips. This was the place that he had called home all his life, and he couldn't imagine himself anywhere else. With his family name and the looks to match, he had it made. There was hardly a person within the city who didn't know who he was - his parents were New York's premiere power couple, and he had grown up in the public eye. He wasn't phased by paparazzi - in fact, he basked in the attention. He had been born with a love of the spotlight, and thankfully he was in a situation where all eyes were on him. While some people were aggrivated by tabloids, Freddie embraced their attention. Why not? He had nothing to hide about himself; what you saw was what you got. Besides, the media attention made him one of New York's most eligible young bachelors, something that he would never complain about. He was quite the womanizer, even at 19, and he didn't mind that fact being known. Freddie stifled a yawn and checked his watch before leaving his room to keep himself as occupied as possible for the majority of the afternoon.

The household was abuzz with caterers, florists, and social event planners, who were all visiting with his parents and confirming the plans for that evening. The Clarkes were hosting a huge gala event at the Soho grand hotel, and it had been widely advertised in the Upper East Side for the past month or so. This was sure to be an event where all the wealthy and the famous came to strut the red carpet, so every last detail had to be flawless. Paul and Denise Clarke spared no expense when it came to public events such as this; they knew that they would end up on page 6, and there was nothing like good publicity for the family image. They worked hard to maintain their status in the public eye, attending charities and making large public donations whenever they saw it necessary. This gala event was their semi-annual bash, which they had in fall and then in spring to celebrate the passing of another good year. Paul had laid out his Valentino suit months before, and Denise made sure she would look stunning in the custom-made Marchesa that she had set aside. Every last detail was attended to, as the planning for the party happened at least two months ahead. Everything had to be perfect, because everything the Clarkes did, they did it with class. There was absolutely no exception. Freddie agilely maneuvered himself through the small crowds of people, bored with the party buzz. He had gone to events like this all his life, so this was certainly nothing new. At least this time his parents weren't forcing him to go with a girl on his arm - unless she was practically a goddess, he thought that girls dragged down his overall image. He was way too handsome to be next to someone who wasn't as good-looking, or so he thought. The young man made his way to the music room in the house so that he could play some guitar; he would stay out of the way and behave for that moment, but he had a job to do later on.

When the evening reached, Freddie stepped up into his role as the pretentious, demanding son. He demanded that every detail pertaining to his appearance had to be exactly as he said it, with no differences at all. Just for that night, he had ordered a custom-made Dolce and Gabanna suit, with Italian leather shoes that cost a small fortune. He also insisted on complaining the whole time that they were preparing to leave. He wanted hot girls to be there, he wanted to be the center of attention, and most of all he wanted to be entertained. Freddie's main concern was himself, and he was damn determined to make sure that he would enjoy the evening more than any other of those stupid guests that his parents found necessary to invite. It took him a full day to get ready, as if he were a bride getting groomed for her wedding. He shaved his face, made sure his hair was perfect, and then proceeded to fuss over his outfit and the plan for the day until 7:30 pm rolled around. Before he left the Clarke's luxurious mansion, he made sure to check his reflection in the mirror. Standing at about 5'11, he was a striking vision in his glossy suit as it brought out his olive complexion and dark hair. His hair was perfectly deconstructed, just the right balance between messy and neat. His eyes seemed especially amber that night, catching the light when he turned his head one way or another. His skin was flawless, his toned figure looked marvelous.. there was absolutely nothing wrong with his appearance. He flashed his winning, crooked grin in the mirror before winking at his reflection and then strolling out casually, with a supreme confidence radiating from his body. Freddie Clarke was at the top of his game, and absolutely nothing could change that. He was beautiful, arrogant, wanted by everyone (or so he thought), and dirty rich. What else could he ask for? Nothing could catch him off guard on this night.

The limo ride was pleasant, with smalltalk among the small family. Max and Freddie got into a bit of an argument as they tended to do, but they were both "on their best behavior". Freddie rolled his eyes at the thought. His behavior was the best kind of behavior, no matter what he chose to do. It didn't take long for the wealthy family to arrive at the gala, and the entrance had a nice royal blue carpet with paparazzi on either side. Freddie couldn't suppress the arrogant smile that turned up his lips as he stepped out, fully welcoming the flashing bulbs. It was obvious to anyone that he enjoyed the media attention, especially the ceaseless paparazzi. He chatted with a few interviewers before posing for countless pictures, knowing full well that he looked devilishly handsome. The teenage girl population of New York couldn't get enough of him, and he was just giving them something to look at. He went inside following his parents and Max, adrenaline still pumping through his veins from his moment in the spotlight. Max caught his eye and scowled, and Freddie muttered a few vulgarities directed at his brother. He always had to act like he was 40 fucking years old, jesus. The gala was absolutely breathtaking, decorated with chandeliers and gold items of all sorts - he felt as though he was in a ball, and sure enough there were a few people out on the dance floor, dancing gracefully to the string assembly that they'd paid for. Paul and Denise were simply glowing with pride, and for the next hour or so Freddie was made to talk to old people he didn't know or care about. All the introductions wore him down eventually and he became slightly snappy, so he wandered off to a different part of the reception area to see if he could scope out some candidates for a good fuck later. There was a cute heiress that he'd spotted that would do, but he was all about "bigger, better, best". He ran a hand through his hair and shoved his hands into his pockets, finally coming to a small figure who was dressed in a serving outfit. He usually didn't stoop down to talk to these lowly people, but there was something about her that made her seem familiar.

He tilted his head from curiosity and looked at her a little more clearly, and when he saw her face his eyes widened and his jaw slacked ever-so-slightly. There was no fucking way in hell that this was her.. but there was no other explanation. Freddie stared at her in shock for a few moments and then composed himself, a haughty grin on his handsome face. Oh yes, he would gloat. He never thought he'd see the day when the bitchy Carter Sanders (who by the way was dating his younger brother, which appalled him to no end) would be doing dirty work, let alone for his family. "Well, you're not exactly on your knees Sanders, but this is a start," he chuckled, his voice taunting and his eyes glistening maliciously in the light. He looked like a predator that was toying with its prey, and he was enjoying every second of this. In fact, he was taking the time to sear this mental image into his brain. "I never thought you'd be a waitress of all things, but I'm amused." Freddie paced circles around her, slowly, deliberately, and then came to a stop right in front of her. "I hope you have a damn good explanation for this one." He'd thought that nothing would catch him off guard, but he'd been proven wrong.. well, as long as this development was in front of him, he'd enjoy it to the fullest.

TAG rebekah everett sinclaire.
WORD COUNT: 1700 ish?
LYRICS: there's a good reason these tables are numbered honey, you just haven't thought of it yet - panic at the disco (could they have made a longer song title? jeez)
NOTES: yay! <3 pic credit to me! text to GIMME NAO @ caution! & yeah i recycled a little from previous posts..
CLOTHES: flossy flossy.

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[rebekah everett sinclaire]

please pay attention tonight ,
BECAUSE IT IS THE BEGINNING OF ALWAYS

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truthfully, rebekah had been dreaming of new york most of her life. when she was little, around the age of seven, it was clear that she had an aptitude for music, piano specifically. her parents had begun putting her into lessons, and by the time she was eight and a half she was more advanced than her teacher was. it was at that point, she'd started dreaming about where she'd wanted to go to school to learn more. it was like she had this insatiable curiousity. even when she learned enough to for it to be passable, she needed to learn more. this led also to her being a 4.0 student in high school, valedictorian, you know, all of that good stuff. but the point was, when she started playing piano, and got to be better and better... she needed to learn more. so she started looking into schools were she could learn best, and new york just kinda jumped out at her. so, her and her parents had been planning it ever since then. when they got the acceptance letter, they all kind of flipped out. it was her dream, and it was finally coming true. behind bex's excitement, it was hard for her to feel anything else but grateful. her parents were the people that got her that far, she wouldn't be going to college at all without them and she recognized that.

but still. things had been rocky between her and her parents for a while, but that was to be excpected. one did not just tell someone else they were adopted after eighteen years and expect things to be just peachy. but, through the type of people the sinclaire's were, they were able to get past that relatively quickly and begin to mend their relationship. bex was happy about that. she was sure that she'd be a bit lonely in new york without her parents. she hadn't left any boyfriends, which she counted as more of a blessing, really. bex was fully capable of falling in love, and loving someone fully and completely in that kind of selfless way... but she'd just never had a good person to love in sydney. and so, that led to her 1) never falling in love and 2) still being a virgin. she was okay with both of those, although sometimes she looked at her parents and wanted something like what they had. something where all she had to do was hear someone's voice, and it was like she was a total and complete goner. but she didn't have that. and like it was stated before, she was okay with that for the most part. she also so the heartache relationships caused, and bex could do without it until she found the right person. so, she wouldn't exactly be searching for prospective love interests while she was here, though her mother would probably be more than happy with it if she did.

they had the typical mother-daughter relationship. mrs. sinclaire would tell bex that she needed to buy new clothes, bex didn't want to, so they would bicker. bex needed a boyfriend, but bex didn't want one, so they'd bicker. but then they'd talk about crushes or her mother's first love, or the simplicity and the complexity that laid within marriage and relationships, and it was perfect. the well balanced relationship was one she'd miss the most next to her father's. mr. sinclaire was the type of man that would approve of anything a loved one did if it made them happy, so in anything bex chose, he was happy for his little girl. it helped that the things bex chose were mostly the good things, the things that made her a daughter that was basically above reproach, save for the fact she got a little closed off sometimes, a little too introverted. there had been times for bex when she'd basically locked herself into her studio, and composed and played for days, sleeping on the day bed they had in the room, only coming out for a shower or food. but her parents understood the fact that her music was just a part of who she was, and the flowing intensity the came from her when she was passionately involved with it was just part of the package. they had somehow managed to get her baby grand piano shipped over to new york. bex had been in her apartment for less than two days, and she was going a little crazy without a piano. so when she'd heard that knock on her door, and the moving men had been there saying they had her piano, she had flipped out a little bit. when they'd finally gotten it up into her living room, she'd played it for hours before finally giving herself a break and going to bed.

that was just the type of person she was. living at home with her parents to provide and with schoolwork being a breeze, she had plenty of time to just play her piano. but things were getting a little more complicated. she had a job, for one. and she had college. she was well aware of the fact that this was going to be a lot more difficult than just a piano teacher trying to teach her things that she already had a grasp on. she was going to be spending a lot of the time working on her techinque, and on music theory. her classes started the following monday, and she was half nervious and half excited. it was an interesting mix, to be sure, but bex was sure she could handle it. contrary to the popular belief she was fragile and that she couldn't take too much, she could actually handle quite the load. workload, that was. she wasn't sure how much emotional strain she could take due to the fact that she'd never really been under much of that. physical stress... well, she was well aware that too much of that might very well end up killing her from her condition. but, that was besides the point.

really, all of this was besides the point. she needed to focus on the task at hand: balancing a full plate of champagne glasses so they didn't go spilling all over people and she didn't get fired her first night on the job. because that was the last thing she needed. bex brushed some a piece of hair out of her eyes, not really responding when she heard someone talking next to her. they hadn't said her name, so whoever it was couldn't possibly be talking about her. so, she ignored them, what the person was saying going in one ear and out the other for a bit... until something registered in her mind. this person had said the name 'sanders'. someone else had mistaken her for the girl that was apparently running around with her features. she turned her gaze on the person, and her breath left her. whoever this carter sanders was, she certainly kept company with extremely attractive people. he had some type of glint in his eyes, and emotion she couldn't really place, let alone identify with. she didn't say anything for a moment, searching for words. what did she say to this? bex had no clue. maybe something along the lines of, 'hey, sorry, but i think you're confusing me with the twin i had no idea existed?' that probably wouldn't go over well. she bit her lip, before finally speaking softly, accent very accentuated by her tone, "uh, excuse me. i don't think i'm the person you're looking for. and being a waitress is a perfectly respectable job." she added, not exactly like his tone when he'd said the word. she didn't even know this boy, and he wanted an explanation as to why she was a waitress. but... it made more sense when she thought about the fact he thought she was someone else. so the sanders girl was apparently above being a waitress... another mystery yet to be solved. "listen, i know it sounds strange, but you're talking to the wrong person. i'm not... carter sanders. i... i'm rebekah. rebekah sinclaire." she explained, perfectly matter-of-fact... although she was sure this would probably confuse him.

---

TAGGED freddie clarke (kiki bby!)
STATUS done!
LISTENING TO where have you been by manchester orchestra
NOTES so. this is how it goes. and it sucks. i'm sorry. lmfao. carter pops up in the next oneee.
CLOTHES click the picture, fool.

[frederick mercury clarke]

He had thought his evening was going to be another blitz of paparazzi and boring conversations, but he had been proved wrong by an amusing twist of fate - or it seemed.

Not many people realized exactly what Freddie's life was like. It was certainly glamorous and he enjoyed it fully, but there were some things that he would rather do without. The cameras he loved, because he never left the house looking anything but absolutely stunning, but sometimes it was the lack of privacy. He didn't mind the photos, but honestly, when he was trying to talk on the phone he didn't want the conversation recorded. Those kinds of things irritated him. And there was the fact that no matter where he went, he'd never be treated as a normal person. It was always Freddie Clark, the hottest item on the market. Sure, girls would throw themselves at him, but did it mean anything? He had mastered the art of unattached flings, but he never trusted a single person outside of his family. Who was to say they didn't want to be his friend or be around him for the exposure, or for his money? Freddie's status was a priveledge, but it also caused him quite a few issues under the surface.

What was he supposed to do with his life, after all of this? There were so many options open to him, that he felt vulnerable - what if he took the wrong path? Freddie could easily take over his father's empire, he had a strong affinity for music and he was savvy with money, but he wasn't sure that was in his best interest. He could also go to college and pursue some sort of a career path to earn a degree, another viable choice. He was taking a few classes here and there at the moment, but it didn't give him a clear sense of direction. His brother was very driven and seemed to know what he wanted to do, and he had a girlfriend. Carter Sanders, to be exact. Freddie fought the urge to gag. His mother loved it when her sons were in happy relationships with girls who didn't want them for their fame, but those kinds of girls were hard to find. She constantly encouraged Freddie to be a little less stubborn about love, but who was she kidding? He was Freddie fucking Clarke, he didn't give two shits about 'love'.

His glittering eyes examined the girl in front of him, from her upturned face to the champagne that she was attempting to balance. With an arrogant little smirk he reached out and took a glass, slightly tipping the weight of the serving tray. "Hope you don't mind," he winked roguishly, taking a sip of the alcohol. It almost tasted like soda to him, it was so weak; he was used to the hard stuff, like vodka and whiskey. Still, it would do. Freddie saw the look of admiration in her eyes when she'd finally looked at him, and it caused satisfaction to well up in his chest. Well, what else was she supposed to feel when she looked at him? He was the prime example of human perfection, after all - he didn't expect any less of a reaction from her. There was something wrong about this supposed Carter, however.. she was too fresh and soft-looking. Her eyes were too wide, her lips too gentle.. Carter would have already had a hard, fiery expression on her face, and she wouldn't be hesitating to retaliate at the sound of his voice.

He froze at her first words, softly spoken and with an almost meek demeanor. She wasn't even trying to hold her ground. Yes, something was definitely wrong. "Excuse me?" he asked haughtily, his eyes slightly narrowed and his tone flat. He was growing bored with this game fast, and a bored Freddie Clarke was a very dangerous Freddie Clarke. "I don't have time for your stupidity, Sanders. Your parents basically own all the oil in Australia, and you're sitting in here in this godawful costume? And you're telling me that it's a respectable job?" He snorted, malice dripping from every single word. Oh yes, he was in his element now. Freddie stepped a little closer to her, sure that she was playing some sort of mind game on him. Well, it wasn't going to work. She had to know who she was messing with, after all. The girl continued to talk and his upper lip curled derisively, and he was about to attack her again when he truly heard her voice.

Light and bell-like, it would have perfectly matched Carter's except for the fact that it was more heavily accented. Freddie found accents a huge turn on.. all a girl had to do was whisper anything to him in a different tone, and he was basically a goner. He knew well enough that Carter had an Australian tint to her speech, but hers was far weaker than this girl's because she'd spent so much time traveling and in New York. This girl sounded like she'd just flew in yesterday from Australia. Freddie's sharp mind put two and two together and his dark brow furrowed. "Rebekah Sinclaire?" he demanded, in a hard voice. "What the fuck is going on?" He wasn't the type to believe in those long lost twin stories, but it seemed highly plausible in this case. Plus, Carter wasn't a good enough actress to keep up this goodie-two shoes act; well.. he could always test it out for himself.

Freddie moved closer to her and without warning kissed her on the lips, his teeth grazing her lower lip slowly. He pulled away and gauged her reaction, sure he'd know by now - if it was Carter, she'd put up a hissy fit but probably tease him with her hands, get him where she wanted him. She was a master at that sort of a thing, they'd both had plenty experience. If it wasn't.. well, she'd probably have a bit of a shocked look on her face. He licked his lips, the taste sweet.. well, he couldn't say he hadn't enjoyed that, she was an attractive girl regardless of who she said she was. In the meantime he texted Carter what the fuck is going on? Rebekah Sinclaire? care to elaborate? The handsome young man would get to the bottom of this, no matter what it took.


TAG rebekah everett sinclaire.
WORD COUNT: 1000 ish? idc.
LYRICS: there's a good reason these tables are numbered honey, you just haven't thought of it yet - panic at the disco (could they have made a longer song title? jeez)
NOTES: yay! <3 pic credit to me! text to GIMME NAO @ caution! BAHAHAHA oh Freddie.. sorry this took too long, i'm a jerk!
CLOTHES: flossy flossy.

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