Group: the hot messes
Member No.: 27
Joined: 14-October 12
brynn e. montgomery
FULL NAME brynn elise montgomery
BIRTHDAY february 6th, 1992
HOMETOWN austin, texas
MEMBER GROUP hot messes
kyle montgomery, father
britta montgomery, sister
stephen montgomery, brother
AGE eighteen holla~
I fell in love with a wind-up souvenir
I can't be you
I thought you might appreciate
The way that she dances
The painted look upon her face
She must have come from the sun
I want to take her through the park
Where she'd tell me I'm all that she wants
If she could even talk
I feel so all alone
No one's gonna fix me when I'm broke
How do you cry with inanimate eyes?
You're never gonna smile with the way that you are
all alone by fun.
ella o'malley takes one look at the tiny baby in her arms, not even an hour old, and knows her daughter will be beautiful. she stares into those half-opened green eyes, and wonders how many hearts they will break. she prays she won't turn out like her, eighteen and pregnant and engaged to an absolute good for nothing. what worth kyle montgomery has in his money and name alone, which is the only reason why she agreed to marry him in the first place. trailers aren't exactly the best places to raise children, much less bastards. ella strokes the tiny sprout of auburn hair on the infant's head, saying softly over and over again, "brynn, my little princess brynn."
at five years old, brynn is not a princess, but a queen. she has won ultimate grand supreme, nabbing an impressive two thousand dollar prize that will go straight towards further pageant expenses. but the only thing brynn cares about is the proof of her win: the big crown, sparkling with a thousand fake crystals in an intricate web, sitting atop the red bouffant that is her hair. the attention from the applauding crowd makes her special, and the look her mother is giving her makes her feel loved. britta is crying, but she doesn't care, because it's all about her. when she finally steps off the stage and the bright lights and the attention are gone, she finds herself in her mother's arms. there's no good job, nothing of that sort, because winning is expected when so much time and money and effort is put into looking beautiful. instead, her mother says "and now we take little miss texas!" and brynn nods enthusiastically, taking her mother's hand.
it's when brynn is in the running for miss teen texas that she decides maybe she doesn't really want a career as a human doll anymore. she is sweet sixteen, naive as hell but not as vapid as the big hair and the clear skin and the big eyes apparently suggest to everyone else. it's that stereotype of being a pageant girl that makes her want to burn all her dresses, break all her crowns. and then she realizes that's really all she has. beauty goes a long way, and no matter what anyone says, she'll be beautiful until she dies. and because it would probably break her mother's heart anyway, she trudges on. she wins, but in the back of her head feels like she's lost.
am I pretty? what? am I pretty? ... well! god, brynn you're such a narcissist.
brynn learns the hard truth of the real world when she starts applying to college. she supposes it's probably a miracle that she even passed high school with straight c's. when you're constantly going to and from pageants, the function of x and the process of respiration are the last things on your mind. out of sheer hope, she applies to the state university, her father's alma mater. surely texas a&m will accept a legacy. or not. the rejection letter spells it out nicely to brynn. coming out one hundred fifty out of three hundred kids does nothing for them. empty heads and bette davis eyes have no place in their world. so brynn sighs and resigns her fate to community college. at least it's somewhere, right?
after you lose miss teen usa, you say to hell with the squeaky clean image you've spent years trying to maintain. you say fuck all. college, albeit community college, seems like the perfect place to do this. you start partying, experiment a little bit with drugs until you realize you hate how stupid it makes you feel. you drink, sometimes way too much. you weren't a virgin, but now it seemed like it wasn't a good night unless you had someone to sleep with for the night. and even if they never stayed until morning, at least you didn't fall asleep alone. at one of those parties, during one of those nights, somehow you fell into bed with your best friend's boyfriend. in the morning, you woke up to his arms wrapped around you, and pulled them tighter.
at first, it's just sex to you. because if he's still with her, he can't possibly have any feelings towards you. and you know guys like him, how they want one thing and one thing only. but for some reason, you let him keep coming back and keep taking. millie's the last thing on your mind when you're with him, and it's only until after he's left that the guilt starts to bite, and damn it, she has fangs. it's sharp and it hits you right in the gut, because at the end of the day, he doesn't belong to you. and maybe you just love him and want him to be your's, which is why after three months, you finally reveal to your best friend that you've been sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back. it's a miracle both she and the guilt haven't left you for dead. but what comes afterward is probably worse.
sometimes you wonder where you're going, and you're scared it's nowhere. after all, you're just another washed up porcelain doll who hurts herself and everyone around her, right?