Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2015 2:47:46 GMT
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 [attr="class","gold"] BIRTHNAME: PENELOPE HAWES HOMETOWN: LONDON, ENGLAND BIRTHDATE: 14 JAN (27) SIGNED TO: WOLFGANG RECORDS PLAYED BY:[break] ADORA [break][break] FACECLAIM:[break] RESIDENT EVIL[break] [b]ADA WONG[/b] - penelope hawes | [attr="class","fngapp-header"]PENELOPE HAWES [attr="class","dust"] The American dream. The fictitious notion that anyone can become anything— a notion so full of shit, even the toilet is jealous. [break][break] Rebellion. A phase all teenagers acquaint themselves with at one point during their period of angst and hormones. They know better than all the adults, or so they claim. What fuels rebellion? Love? Ambition? In this case, it was the former and the latter. A wilful, spoiled sixteen year old found herself a sweetheart; a sweetheart in a rock band. Older, cooler, from a slice of life unfamiliar to her own pampered surroundings. Several months down the line, their lead vocalist stepped out of the picture and Penelope was ever so fortunate enough to fill their shoes. [break][break] Mother dearest was most unamused when the girl stumbled home at precisely 2.07 am with her beloved's name tattooed upon her flesh. [break][break] Regret? They were in love. You're just an old hag, you could never understand how pure and meaningful their relationship had become over the space of eight months and thirteen days. The tattoo was a symbol of their everlasting ecstasy. Gigs went cold. The reception of England growing colder by the week. They weren't interested, rock was a dying breed in a land that screamed for dance. Around those parts, the American dream was a myth. A myth that her boyfriend had obsessed over since the day he was born- or so he claimed. [break][break] Not many rebellious teens elope to America with only two pairs of briefs and a singular thong. [break][break] Four people crammed themselves onto any couch that would allow them to call it home for the night. After a month of living the dream, the band was running on fumes. Couches were becoming scarce, as was funds. It was time to call it quits. That was until they nailed a gig. The crowd loved them, they adored their English charms. After a few more local sessions, they were onto something, the spotlight started to shine their way. All with the calculated help of their manager. They had no idea who this woman was, she promised fame and wealth, and she delivered. [break][break] After four years years of following their hearts, partying until the sun came out, it came to a tragic end. Love wasn't enough to prevent her boyfriend from climbing into the bed of their gracious manager. [break][break] They broke up. The band broke up. The boyfriend ended up with a few broken bones. It was a tragedy. Everything Penelope had ever known in her life had been reduced to ashes. You have to remember, this young woman had arrived in America only a girl. She's not even an American citizen. That's another story entirely. To summarize? People. Contacts. The two most powerful weapons any human can have in their arsenal. Fake documents, identification, anything the girl desired. Contacts are what provided these. [break][break] Contacts are also what got her to where she is right now. [attr="class","fngapp-quotetxt"]SHE DON'T LIKE THE LIGHTS. DON'T WANNA SHARE WITH NO ONE ELSE, WANT ME TO HERSELF. [attr="class","fngapp-quote"]❞ |
