Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts Trailer

How have I lived this long without seeing this. You have no idea how obsessed I am with the photos from this ad campaign.

I've always used these pictures as inspiration for Broken Glass, Broken Hearts. I feel that Sam Riley and Rosie-Huntington Whiteley embody perfectly the mood of Tyler and Angela's physical appearances in the photos, and this video is basically what a trailer for my book might look like if it were ever to be made into a movie. Minus the Burberry logos and the big purses.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiG8To1mMwA




Thursday, February 16, 2012

I'm So Vain part 12

What I really would have preferred was that everyone forgot it ever happened.

I mean, even if they didn't actually forget, it would've been nice if they just didn't talk about it. If they just pretended they forgot it ever happened.

But instead, the moment I walked into the school, Jill and Emmaline were hanging on me like a pair of antique earrings.

"Oh my gosh. I heard what happened last night." Jill's eyes were huge; giant, blinking crystal balls with absolutely no prediction of the future inside.

"I saw it," Emmaline said, and it was like she was talking about a celebrity sighting. I glared at her, and she added quickly, "And it was even more terrible in person than it is in all the retellings." I cringed at the words all the. This was the latest piece of gossip, and I could practically feel it being passed around me. I wanted to get back in my car and drive straight out of town. "I'm so sorry, Vera. Penny can be such a drag when she's drunk." I rolled my eyes. Drag wasn't exactly the word I would use. "Whatever," I said, waving a hand in front of me and smiling like I'd forgotten it had even happened. "Like you said, she was drunk. It's past now, I don't care." Emmaline put one hand over her heart, "That is so noble of you, Ver. You are such a good person." I fought not to raise an eyebrow. You'd think I was Rosa Parks.

As we dispersed, Jill and Emma waving to me with expressions practically flooding with sympathy, I turned from them and walked into my classroom; and suddenly something hit me.

They had apologized to me. They had said Penny became a drag when she was drunk.

But they never disagreed with what she had said.

And maybe they just hadn't thought it was necessary, that it was obvious they didn't agree with the snide comment made by a very drunk mean-girl.

But Jill and Emma weren't the type to leave things to implication. They told you everything they were thinking and exactly what they meant.

And they hadn't said a word about my nose.

© 2012

Sunday, January 29, 2012

I'm So Vain part 11

I started searching the moment Caleb and I left, him apologizing for Penny and reminding me how drunk she was and assuring me I had a beautiful nose.

As soon as we were outside, I shot a glance at the living room window by the front door, trying to make out my reflection in the dark.

Caleb was pushing me forward, though, and soon we were past the window, onto the driveway. He opened my car door for me and I climbed in. He hurried around to the driver's seat and I, only because he was there, pushed down the impulse to pull down my mirror. I tried to look in the rear-view but Caleb was driving fast and it was dark. I focused instead on my hands, until we were in my driveway.

He kept me there for at least ten minutes, kissing my neck and my hands and telling me I was beautiful and asking if I was Ok. I gave smiles and promised him over and over that I was fine. When he finally released me, I gave him a soft kiss and hurried out of the car, up my driveway, and in the door.

I slammed my front door behind me without pausing and rushed up the stairs. I threw my bedroom door open and flipped on the light switch. Then I pushed the door closed hurriedly with one foot and walked over to my closet, which doubled as a full-length mirror. My room was bright with light by now, and I stepped up to the mirror, so close that my...so close my face was almost touching the glass.

And I stared at my nose.

It was big.

It was huge.

I'd never noticed it before, but now it seemed so obvious. My eyes weren't small, that I knew, that was impossible considering the gorgeous, enormous eyes on both of my parents. So if my eyes were big, then my nose was huge.

I stepped away from the mirror and reached with one hand up to my face, covering my nose. I felt repulsive. Every positive aspect of my appearance was suddenly naught; in company with this hideous thing on my face.

I fell onto my bed and curled into a ball, tucking my disgusting face between my knees. I drew in one shaky breath before sobs overtook me, sobs I repressed, which therefore shook my body all the more as I forced them to stay inside of my revolting body.

Penny's face was enormous behind my eyelids, and her perfect lips were moving as they repeated over and over, "Pinnochio. Pinnochio. Pinnochio." Then a flash to her eyes, which sparkled, before her lips appeared again and said, more pronouncedly, those flawless lips articulating every syllable as her tongue played along her perfect, white teeth, "Very big nose."

Again and again and again, like the soundtrack of a horror movie being screamed at me through Beats at top volume.

I grabbed a pillow, pressed it into my face, and screamed as loud as I could; let all the furious oxygen in my body escape in one irrepresible holler.

But when I looked up at my reflection again, my nose was still huge.

Only now my eyes were red and swollen, too, and everything about me looked even uglier.

© 2012

I'm So Vain part 10

Rachel's party is where things really started going wrong.

As soon as I saw her, I knew Penny was drunk.

Penny went through stages of drunkenness. She had a strong stomach, and if you didn't know her, you wouldn't notice her gradual descent towards totally-hammered. Once she was there, however, everyone could see it.

"It's our dear Very!" Penny exclaimed as I walked closer to her, and I smiled unsuredly and took hold of her arm, slightly afraid she would fall over. "Penny," I began, "Do you think maybe it's time for you to leave?" Penny would never want to leave a party before eleven o'clock, but she was in the stage of drunkenness when all that could result from this night was self-humiliation on her part. "What very are you, Very?" I frowned at her and she smiled widely at me, breathing a huge whiff of her alcohol-scented breath, and I gagged slightly at the disgusting smell. "Oh, Penny–"

"Very uncommitted?" she rose an eyebrow at me, and I bit my lip. Fantastic. She was still mad at me for dropping out of prom committee, and now she was drunk and mad at me, which was not a promising equation for me. "Penny, really, we should–"

"Very boring?" she cooed, and I rolled my eyes and continued to try and murmur words to her about leaving, but as much as I tried to pull her towards the door, her feet would not budge. It was as if they were nailed to the floorboards.

"Very bossy," she said now, after my tone dropped and I attempted to be more stern in my coaxing. People all over the room were staring by now, some smirking, some with raised eyebrows, and a couple looking astonished. "Now, Penny, darling," I started in, and her feet finally slipped about centimeter off their post.

"Very big nose," Penny said, and I froze. I forced myself to focus on Penny's face, though my thoughts were already darting around the room to the people who had already been staring, and imagining who must have turned at this remark. She stared up at me with the tired, mischievous eyes of a criminal who's been very recently shot, and grinned at me a sloppy grin that looked as if it had been glued on her face with a glue stick by a second grader whose artskills were questionable. Her hair was a tangled mess and her alcohol breath, even then, was overwhelming my senses. Despite all of this, she still, somehow, looked beautiful. Not just beautiful, but breathtaking; she stared up at me with the face of one you never want to look away from. The kind of face that makes men claim they believe in love at first sight.

This beautiful face was staring up at me with mockery, and it was telling me that I did not measure up.

This was something I had already known. But never had something so beautiful told me so.

I felt a tear slide down my cheek as my lips parted and a small sound like a wincing animal escaped my throat. I dropped Penny's arm, and as I took a step back, away from her, my body suddenly shaking slightly, she said, "Get out of here, Pinnochio. No one tells me when to leave a party."

© 2012

I'm So Vain part 9

I found my hands shaking slightly as I stepped onto the stage, and I hated myself for it– what did I care what these people thought about me?– but I couldn't stop.

The clipboard woman looked at me, then back to her clipboard, at which point she read aloud my name and the the name of the monologue I would be reading. I was silent for a beat after she finished, and she looked up at me with a raised eyebrow and said, "Well, let's hear it, then, shall we?" I blushed, nodded, and began. The clipboard woman paused twice in her furious note-taking to just stare at me as I spoke, and both times I felt my cheeks turn red and heard my voice falter slightly. When I finished, I stood in silence, not sure exactly what to do next. Clipboard woman looked up at me and asked, "Will you be performing a song?" I blinked, I hadn't knownnot performing was an option. I immediately jumped on the opportunity, replying in a hurried tone, "Um, no."

"All right, then." Clipboard woman looked up at me from over her glasses, "Thank you." I took her hint and hurried back down the steps, returning to my previous seat behind Skinny Bones Joan.

"You should have sung," Joan informed me, "Your chances of getting in are much higher if you sing."

"Not for me, believe me."

"That bad?"

"I couldn't kill passing animals or anything, but I'm not particularly pleasant on the ears." Joan laughed and held out one of her spider-like limbs to me, "I'm Nicole." I took her tiny hand, feeling like a giant as my fingers collapsed over hers, "Vera. Nice to meet you." Nicole nodded in agreement and climbed over the seats, falling into the chair next to me. "So can you sing?" I asked conversationally, watching another auditionee who stood with a straight back, his chin higher than Mt. Everest as he recited his lines. I glanced at my cell phone as I pulled it from my pocket and wondered when would be an appropriate time to leave; if I had any further obligations here for the day. Nicole shrugged, "I dunno. I guess." A text from Caleb came in, and I opened it.

r u going to rachels tonight

I pressed the reply button and responded in the affirmative. Nicole shot a glance at my phone as another text came in,

ill giv u a ride. u home?

I responded again, this time negatively.

where r u? u want me to come get u now or later?

I looked over to Nicole, who was not subtly reading over my shoulder, and asked, "Do we need to stay any longer?"

"I do," she said, "My ride hasn't auditioned yet. You, on the other hand, are as free as a bird."

im at Ralph's. now

Nicole raised an eyebrow at my text, and I smiled at her. "Nice to meet you, Nicole. I'll see you at...callbacks?" She shook her head, "Nah, either you're in or you're out for this one."

"All right, then I'll see you at practice, hopefully." Not hopefully. I was hoping she was right about my not singing lowering my chances of getting in, actually. "Yea, see you," she said, turning back towards the stage. I stepped out of the row and looked at my phone as I walked towards the double doors in the back.

on my way


© 2012

I'm So Vain part 8

Simultaneously luckily and unluckily, there was an upcoming musical happening at the community theater.

As Penny spent the rest of the week giving me the almost-silent treatment, (you know, responding to questions when they're asked, but never saying anything else and even then giving one-to-two-word answers), I spent the week learning a monologue about computer keys turning into lips and a song that I could be described as sounding "fine" on.

When I told my mom I was auditioning, she was ecstatic. "I used to act in all the school plays when I was in high school. I was rubbish, of course. I haven't the slightest idea why Mr. Fernando let me in to any of those plays, but it was very fun." Considering the fact that Fernando was a Mr., I think I have a pretty good idea why he let my mother into the plays. But I didn't say anything. My mom helped me run my lines, and though I had to almost-constantly ask her not to use an accent, (she seems to honestly believe that she was meant to have been born in England, although her accent is as rubbish as that idea is,) she was helpful.

When I walked into the community theater on Saturday morning, I took one look around and yelled at myself internally for putting myself in this situation. There was a girl on stage reading lines from a page which she held with a shaky hand, and I rose an eyebrow. If I'd known we were allowed to read from the page, I would have practiced a lot less.

It seemed that all the auditonees were sitting in the audience, so I walked down the right aisle and found an empty seat one row behind all the occupied seats. A woman sitting squarely in the middle of the front row was writing notes furiously on a clipboard she held, but other than her, everyone seemed to be around my age. I was glad. At least "community" theater didn't mean "all ages welcome". I don't know what I'd do if I had to hang out with a bunch of middle-aged strangers for two months.

"Thank you," the woman with the clipboard said to the girl on stage, "Now do you think you could perform that scene for us again, without the script?" I cringed in pity for the girl as she put the script down and shakily stood again, sputtering and wavering as she flusteredly attempted to recite the lines again. "Hey," a voice whispered, and I turned my head to see a girl, one row in front of me and two seats to the left, facing me. "You go to Winston, don't you?" she whispered, and I nodded, taking in the bones which poked out of her pale, exhausted-looking face like broken pipes protruding from soil. She was incredibly thin, even by my standards. I suspected anorexia. "What are you doing here?" she asked, putting such emphasis on the last word that she made it sound like I was Angelina Jolie hanging out with the junkies behind the dumpsters. "I'm auditioning," I whispered back, my eyes wandering around the seats and taking a head count. "Why?" she asked, repulsion coating the word as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear with one skeletal-looking hand, the nails of which were painted blue; though what shade, I couldn't tell, because of the dim lighting. I shook my head and scratched the knuckle of my left hand as I held the seat in front of me, "It's kind of a long story."

"Vera King?" The woman glanced up from her clipboard momentarily and cast a gaze upon the theater seats, and I stood and whispered to the stick-figure girl, "That's my cue, I guess."

© 2012

I'm So Vain part 7

"Where were you after school? I waited for you in the parking lot. Caleb did, too."

"Sorry, Jill," I said, holding my phone to my ear as I stared at the different colors and stepped closer to one lock of hair, taking a closer look at the shade. "I had to talk to Mrs. Paige." Why lie? I'd have to make up an excuse for why I wasn't doing prom committee anyway. Might as well say I was sending Paige my regrets. "What about?" Jill asked, and I heard a car door slam in the background.

"This one's perfect," I told the hair stylist, pointing to a sunny, gorgeous shade of blonde. If I wasn't going to be able to be on prom committee, then I would have to make up for it by making at least one serious; drastic improvement on my appearance. My hair, currently dyed auburn, was slowly going back to its natural color– an incredibly plain shade of dark brown– and bright blonde was exactly the change I needed. This shade was even blonder than Emmaline's, and I knew Penny and Jill would love it. Caleb and Cona, who, bizarrely enough, often told me they liked my natural shade, might be less thrilled. But it didn't matter. I wasn't looking for their approval.

"What's perfect?" Jill asked. "This hair color. I'm dying my hair again."

"Actually, I am," the stylist volunteered, and I grinned at her. "Ooh! Yay! I love when people dye their hair." I laughed, "I know you do, Jill. I'll talk to you later, Ok?"

"Si senorita! See you on the other side!" Jillian hung up and I put my phone in my pocket and walked over to the salon chair.

"Yikes! Someone call the fire department! Fire by locker 104!" Penny walked up to me and leaned against the locker next to mine, "Hey, you. You look freakin' hot." I laughed, "Thanks. I thought it was time for some change."

"Man, change never looked so good," Penny said, grabbing a lock of my hair and then dropping it. "You texted last night that we needed to talk about something? What's up?" I sighed and fell into step next to Penny as we walked away from my locker. "I can't do prom committee."

"What do you mean? Why not?" I should have thought farther into this conversation. I had avoided all thoughts of it, and now I had no idea what to tell her. I improvised, "I'm going to do the musical. I won't have time for prom committee, and my mom really wants me to try acting." I ran a hand through my hair and added, "She thinks I'd be really good at it. A couple of other people have told me that, too, so I figured I might as well try it." This was a lie. My mom, or anyone else, had never mentioned acting to me. Although I'm sure my mom would be thrilled if I really did audition. I'd probably have to, now that I'd dug myself this hole. "You can't sing," Penny reminded me, and I scrunched up my nose; she was right. "Well, I could audition for a part with mostly speaking lines."

"Didn't we already have a musical this year?" Penny asked me with a raised eyebrow. Crap. She was right. I was momentarily distracted, thinking how that guy at the park had corrected me one my language when I used that word. Then I shook my head, "Um, no, I meant the community musical. You know, at the community center." Oh, geez. This kept getting better. Auditioning for the musical already meant having to hang out with the reject drama kids; auditioning for a musical at the community center meant that not only would they be rejects, but rejects who didn't go to Winston. Nothing about this situation I was building for myself was appealing.

Penny agreed, as she scrunched her nose up and said, "That sounds terrible." I laughed, but I sounded uncertain. "Whatever. My mom wants me to do it, and if I want to go to prom at all, I should appease her." Penny rose an eyebrow at this, "Your moms not exictly the strictest nun in the Catholic school." I shrugged, "Not usually. But she's been really insistent about this." Perfect. Eventually, Penny would ask my mom what made her think I was suited for acting, and my mom would be clueless. I was really killing myself. "Well, that sucks. Prom committee's really important, I don't know how you could just disregard your duties like this." Penny spoke as if I was a president talking about skirmishing by responsibilities to go on a golfing retreat.

I was about to protest when she waved to Anna Faze across the hall and said, "Anna! Wait up!" Penny hurried away from me, toward a waiting Anna, without so much as a wave. I blushed brightly and ignored the few glances from the people leaning against their lockers near me, striding forward and keeping my gaze on the wall in front of me.

I'd need to do more than just dye my hair, it seemed.

© 2012

I'm So Vain part 6

Caleb was still pretty sober when we left, so he drove me back home. I'd finished most of my homework during study hall, and the homework I had left was for period five, after study hall, so I decided I would do it tomorrow.

I settled on the couch with a homemade, fat-free frappuccino and Lily in my lap and turned on the TV, watching the Kardashians from the corner of my eye as I painted my nails. I thought about what I would say to Mrs. Paige tomorrow, how I would convince her to let me be on the prom committee. She was generally pretty lenient, but when it came to interfering with other teacher's rules, she usually backed off, so I might be out of luck. I turned off the TV and stood up, walking over to the kitchen and starting dinner for my parents. I'd make them omelettes and French toast: breakfast for dinner. I wouldn't eat, though. I'd had a cupcake at the party.

I hung my outfit for the next day on my closet door and climbed into bed, laying on my back so my acne mask wouldn't rub off on my pillow. "Night baby" Caleb texted me, and I smiled, replied, and closed my eyes, willing my mind to drift and my body to rest.

"That party sucked," Penny said as she walked up to Cona and I during the passing period before third. I hadn't even seen her last night. "I don't know," I contradicted, "I thought it was fine. Emma's cupcakes were really good," I offered, because nothing else about the party stood out from any others. "You had one?" Penny asked, her eyebrows high on her forehead. I bit my lip and noddd, then added, "But I didn't eat dinner."

"Neither did I," Penny immediately replied, and I blushed. Cona rolled her eyes and, as if to make a point, reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of M&Ms. She ate a few and then tipped the bag toward me; I smiled but shook my head. She popped five into her mouth at once and then held out the bag toward penny and asked, "You want some, Pen?" Penny, who hated when people shortened her already-abbreviated name, narrowed her eyes and said, "No, thanks."

Cona brought the bag up to her mouth and poured the remaining contents in, and my eyes widened, despite myself. When the bag was empty, Cona crushed it in her hand and licked her lips. There was another beat of silence, and then Penny said, "Thanks for offering, though." Cona smirked, "Any time."

"Hi, Mrs. Paige," I said, in as friendly a tone as I was capable of, as I walked into her room after schol. She glanced up at me from the papers she was grading and said, "Hello, Vera, dear." Paige had a tendency to add "dear" to the end of every sentence she uttered. I walked closer to her desk and rested my hand on the edge, my thumb finding a hole in the top. "I wanted to talk to you about something," I stated, rocking back slightly on mu platforms and tightening my grip on the desk for support. "What's up?" she asked, adjusting her glasses and focusing on something on the wall behind me. I cleared my throat and said, "I want to be on prom committee." She cocked an eyebrow and said, "Well, of course, dear. I assumed you would." I cleared my throat, looked her straight in the eye, and said, "I have a C+, though. In Pre-Calc."

"Ah," she said with understanding as she put down the paper she was peering at. "Well, I'm sorry, Vera, but I'm afraid you need to have at least all Bs to be on prom committee. You know that."

"I know," I said, sighing, "But I was hoping you might make an exception." Mrs. Paige sighed, too, and I quickly presented my argument. "Mr. Lowood isn't strict, Mrs. Paige."

"Vera–"

"I've already bought some decorations." Paige took off her glasses and wiped them with the edge of her shirt. "Please, Mrs. Paige. I've been dreaming of being on prom committee since sixth grade." Mrs. Paige shook her head and looked up at me, putting her glasses back on. "I'm sorry, Vera," she said again, "It's not going to happen. There's always next year, though, if you get those grades up." A wave of fury went through me, an emotion I had never before felt toward Mrs. Paige, and I turned on my heel and walked briskly out of her room, my mind so full of angry thoughts that I didn't start worrying about what I would tell the girls.

© 2012