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camillesfm · 4 years

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* ｡ . –– 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 & 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄 –– ｡ . *

her mother had taken over the entire living room ; junior partners , paralegals , and an intern took up spaces , and they were all picking apart the same novel - length contract . cj had been asked to join and quickly stammered about having plans in order to prevent that specific kind of torture from happening . . . so she texted a couple old friends , and two hours later her fingers were intertwined with another’s as she followed along through a writhing crowd . pale blue eyes search for comfort in familiar faces. , but it never quite comes . . . because , camille , you’ve never really fit into scenes like this , have you ? the last time she felt at ease amidst a party was leaned back against a boy’s chest as his arms draped over her shoulders , lips lowered to mumble next to her ear every now and again , laughter shaking their shoulders . they hadn’t spoken in years , the last party they went to together ending in a fight that shattered the glass protecting what could have been . it’s why there’s no comfort when she sees him across the most crowded room , but a pang of curiosity sparks in a way she can’t explain when dark eyes seemingly go blank , despite the way he was surrounded by friends who used to ruffle her hair as she passed by , but now turned their backs . it’s unsettling , the way she feels guilt like a boulder dropped to the pit of her stomach . . . years had passed . they’d changed . but she still couldn’t drink fireball without tasting the words on her tongue . . . this . us . it’s all bullshit . there was a lingering in her gaze , noting the way his leg bounced when he sat , how inattentive he was to the cup in his hand , how his smile never quite reached his eyes , but she was tugged forward and lost to the crowd before she could make anything of it . an hour or so passed , early june heat and the packed house caused a glistening on the nape of her neck , tucked under dark waves that dipped between her shoulder blades . it was suffocating , being there , almost as much as it would’ve been at home , but not quite . empty conversation and too many people bumping into her made her lungs contract , and before she knew it , she was making a b-line for the front door . a breeze cools her skin , and she leans against a pillar with closed eyes . she only opens them once more when the sound of the front door’s handle turning breaks the silence , and there’s no denying the way she falters when she meets his gaze . narrowed , but exhausted , and she missed the way he used to look at her . guilt . the guilt was still rampant , and her lips parted , but no words came out . not before he took off , as always , down the steps and down the driveway . don’t do it , she told herself , there’s no reason . moments pass , and she could’ve gone inside , but instead ? “ angel , wait –– ” feet patter down the steps , scurried after him , and cj always had a plan . . . but if anyone was going to disrupt that , it’d always be him . “ please , ” she’s shocked by the faint tone underneath her words , the quiet longing . catching up with him , her voice softens , “ coston isn’t that big . . . you can’t just . . . keep bolting every time we’re in the same place . ”

* 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒐 , 𝒂. ﹕ 𝘧𝘵. 𝚌𝚓

there’s music playing a little bit too loud , and he’s in the middle of a conversation of three , lost halfway through – but smiling anyways without fault . his head is clearer than it’s ever been , and the red solo in his hand remained untouched . he’s perched on the side of a wall , to a house that wasn’t nearly as spacious as his own– but big enough in it’s own right to carry weight through the town . expensive art hung on the wall , and he’s zoning in on a piece , with tired eyes , until he can almost make out a face , staring back at him . there’s a sudden drop in his chest , like an anvil laid flat against his airway , keeping him choked from reality . but his attention is drawn the moment his name is tugged back to surface level , and hazel irises are dipped back into conversation . did you get that in a fight ? there’s a girl , and she’s got long blonde hair that dipped down to her lower back , tucked behind her ear— a tourist , and everything about her practically screamed it . and while the night played on , the two of them found themselves alone in an upstairs bedroom , lights out— always — and hushed sighs enveloped by the song after the next . when he leaves , he still feels nothing - nothing but dread as it’s still formed a lump in the back of his throat , tightening and tightening as the night felt like it’d never end . and in the meantime , he’s shifting through the crowd , down the stairs , hickey embedded purple and bruise just under the tuck of a collar , and out the front front porch steps of a long paved driveway . he hadn’t expected to see her— and it fucking knocked whatever wind he had left , out from under him . brows furrowed , and tongue caught between a narrowed gaze , and a distracted stiffen of his shoulders . as always , he makes a b-line to leave , wondering quietly just how long she’d been at this party- and what she’d seen in the process . but he doesn’t ask– because that would have stepped on his pride . instead , he’s walking — his car no where in sight .

#♥ * ｡ . 06. 𝐜 𝐚 𝐦 𝐢 𝐥 𝐥 𝐞 ; 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 . ｡ . *#angelsfm

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camillesfm · 4 years

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。· . ˙ ⌈ alva bratt + cis female + she / her + the intangible concept ⌋ yo , have you meet that KOOK , camille 'cj' petersen , yet ? — no ? well , to give you a little heads up before you do , they’re a TWENTY year old , PRE-LAW STUDENT , and have been living in coston for TWENTY . since i’ve known them , they’ve reminded me of PALE PINK POINTE SHOES , CHAINS MADE OF WHITE CLOVERS , A PURPLE SKY JUST BEFORE SUNRISE , STEADY WAVES CRASHING AT LOW TIDE , AND SHATTERED & SCATTERED GLASS . usually they’re quite LEVELHEADED & THOUGHTFUL but just make sure you keep an eye out for them around town because i heard can be quite RETICENT & ALOOF as well so here’s hoping they aren’t the ones to undo this whole peace pact they have going on this summer . but just between you & me , i kinda hope it all falls apart . the rivalry keeps this whole boring town interesting . –– this is cj . . . let’s just . . . dive into this mess !

𝐁 𝐀 𝐂 𝐊 𝐆 𝐑 𝐎 𝐔 𝐍 𝐃 .

scarlett petersen is a name known statewide, as she’s the best corporate lawyer on the east coast, clever as the devil and twice as pretty with long blonde hair often pinned into a sleek ponytail. david petersen got his degree at vanderbilt university, moving on to get his phd at unc chapel hill where he could never quite shake that carolina blue. he’s been sitting chancellor for the past six years in tandem with a long term sports-medicine, neuroscience research project that studies the long term affects of brain damage in athletes in contact sports. they both hail from old money families, and long lines of success are continued in two people who hold appearance and accomplishment far above humility or even . . . . humanity lol. they’re good people, really . . . just not really the parenting type.

which is unfortunate! as. well into their marriage, they had twins, caleb, first, and camille, ten minutes later. bright eyed and blonde haired, the perfect petersen babies were angels in their infancy, and it was easy to parent them . . . especially when they were paying someone else to do it.

caleb and camille grew up under the watchful eye of a rosy-cheeked nanny. think julie andrews as nanny in eloise. they were happy, but lonely, though you’d never guess it by their wide smiles in cuddled family portrait christmas cards. for all anyone else knew, scarlett and david were perfect parents, raising two beautiful children who they loved more than anything . . . but behind that iron gated entryway to a house on the coast was another story.

they liked their kids, sure, but whether or not they loved them was another question entirely. camille, growing up to be the spitting image of scarlett, was liked in the way a rare porcelain artifact was. she was a beautiful thing to behold; seen, not spoken to. shown off, not interacted with in anyway. held with delicate hands and passed around as a humble brag: look at this precious thing i’ve brought into the world. i bet mine’s better than yours.

but as time passed, the novelty of having children seemed to wear off, and they were moving to the next big thing, the next big step in their careers. they weren’t around when camille began going by cj because it was easier for little voices to say. they weren’t around when blonde ringlets relaxed and grew darker. they weren’t around when she started to develop a personality of her own, interests of her own, talents of her own. christmas cards would go out, but rarely were they all together on christmas morning. thanksgivings were often spent with grandparents, as their parents worked through the holiday. they spent more and more time away from coston, leaving cj and caleb in nanny’s capable hands.

but life goes on, and sometimes it was easy to forget that it was abnormal not to have your parents around. as a youngin, cj was interested in everything. she took a liking to soccer and lacrosse, painting and drawing, piano and guitar . . . but somewhere in between a blue mat and pale pink pointe shoes, she found her thing.

it was obvious, from an early age, that cj was one hell of a dancer. disciplined and precise when she needed to be. creative and passionate when it called for it. gymnastics trained her strength, ballet trained her patience, contemporary pushed her limits with creativity, partner work taught her teamwork. dance was very clearly her best thing and her favorite thing.

her parents only ever attended recitals when it didn’t conflict with anything else on their schedules and when it was classical ballet. dance was a frivolous thing for them, but for cj it was everything. being a naturally shy kid, naturally timid in the shadow of her last name, she became a completely different person on stage who dominated a spotlight . . . without even needed a literal spotlight. ultimately, this is what she spent her life doing. monday through thursday evenings, dance. competitions and performances on the weekends. if neither were happening, you’d catch her teaching classes at coston’s local studio.

it’s what truly made her happy, but that wasn’t something her parents understood. caleb and nanny did, sure, but her parents? not one bit. someone would ask what she wanted to be when she grew up, and if dance was mentioned, she’d be cut off mid-sentence. they didn’t want to hear about it because it wasn’t logical. you can’t make a career out of it. it didn’t help much that her brother was the ideal child in that realm, charming and on a path to success in the medical field. they still had questionable motives, but they favored nonetheless.

sometimes it was a blessing; sometimes it was a curse. when she could slip under the radar, she was grateful, but it seemed that her parents had a keen eye for her screwups. any chance they had, they’d use to scold her or nudge her away from the pointe shoes.

so cj spent a lot of time being pristine in the way that was expected of her, never letting anyone know too much about her, only keeping a few friends close enough to really know her. she stayed out of trouble, kept up exceptional grades, smiled and nodded when necessary, and began catering to the idea that she’d go to law school, a fate pre-determined by her mother no doubt.

nowadays, she attends brown university, pre-law. she’s a picturesque ivy league gal with a dark academia aesthetic when at school, but there’s a restlessness lingering under the surface. even she’s doing what her parents require of her, she never seems to live up to their unrealistic expectations. we rly do be . . . . waiting for her to have a complete breakdown . . . . aklsdfjha

𝐏 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 𝐎 𝐍 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 .

miss camille . . . better known around town as cj . . . is, above all else, the picture of serenity. she’s levelheaded and calm, and patient as all get out which is probably why she’s so damned accustomed to just going with what her parents thought of her. she’s really great to have in a crisis because very few things cause that steady nature of hers to crumble, and because she’s honestly. . . quietly very maternal. putting the needs of others before her own comes naturally.

she’s quiet and shy, yes, but just because she doesn’t speak doesn’t mean she doesn’t listen. she listens and sees and is . . . quite observant. there’s a way about her that notices the little things, which makes her quite thoughtful when it comes to the people she loves. if you’re lucky enough to be close to her, you can bet she quietly takes notes of little habits and favorites and carefully uses them to idk love ya better ya feel??

reticent comes from the fact that she doesn’t often let people get close to her. the way her parents treated her and caleb growing up has taken. .. . a toll for sure because honestly she’s terrified of disappointing people by shattering the mirror of perfection and revealing too much about herself that’s unexpected

aloof comes from the way she’s calm and quiet . . . and how that sometimes translates as apathy . . . on top of that she’s very daydreamy like she is That Bitch who is staring out of the window producing a whole move in her head which sometimes causes her to not hear when people are talking to her . . . cue the ‘hm? what?’ tuning back in

when i say cj is a different person when she’s dancing . . . . i mean it. like i REALLY mean it. she’s confident and expressive. her choreography tests the limits of tradition. she pushes boundaries when it comes to the physicality of performances. like u rly look at her being quiet and to herself in the corner at a country club event and then see her performing like she invented contemporary and ur like . .. . are u SURE that’s the same girl

people who know her most know her as warm. when she opens up, getting past the shy, she can be a little goofy, definitely has avery creative way about her, wants to know that you’re okay and if you’re not, how can she help ya know!!

has a black cat named lucky because ya know . . . black cats are bad luck . . . ha ha ha ha . . . get it

the ‘j’ in cj is for her middle name . . . but no one really knows what her middle name is . . . except family and close, close friends

absolutely hates the energy of the pogue/kook rivalry and thinks violence is most cERTAINLY not the way to go

often times found by the shoreline at night, just a little ways off from the petersen estate because she likes the way the waves sound as they roll in. it helps her think

is trying to make the best of law school by studying to become a defense attorney and she likes it! sort of! really, she just wants to dance for as long as she can and ultimately open up her own studio

definitely believes in wishing stars

bad case of insomnia

has a finsta dedicated to lucky

has a dance insta too . . . . but that’s lowkey bc her parents can’t know about it

please for the love of god watch this because charity and cj have the same energy

this also has cj energy

so does this . . . classical is fun when it’s telling a story and she loves a good pas de deaux but otherwise meh

my girl is physically . .. QUITE strong

says sorry WAY too often

incessant need to prove herself, prove her worth, since her parents never seem to find it

loves caleb sfm but will thump him in the forehead for mentioning he’s older

overachiever . . . . yikes

ABSOLUTELY burns the candle at both ends

idk if y’all watched high school musical the musical the series but gina . . . . . .. minus the ‘mean girl’ plot they tried . . .. is v cj and bitch i hate to say it but neville longbottom??? also a cj mood LMAO

OK THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL THERE WE GO IT’S DONE I’M DONE GBYYYYYE BABIIIIE

#coston.intro #what the f kinda NONSENSE did i just write lmao

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