Evelyn Campbell (wanderings) wrote in bellumlogs, @ 2010-02-17 12:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | christine daaé |
Who: Evelyn and Lotte
What: Coffee!
Where: The lobby, to start
When: This afternoon at 2
Warnings: TBA, probably none aside from general giddy Evelyn malice?
Evelyn wore a long black sweater dress down to the lobby, swathed in a bright blue coat that she'd bought the summer previous from a little thrift store in the grand old college town she'd been shacking up in for the last four years. The promise of life in the city was thrilling, she had to admit, and not just for the independence and anonymity and potential it offered. She'd visited New York many times, and she felt as if she'd always been destined to live there. Whether she married or not, she planned to insist on staying there all her days, if she could help it. Two days in, and it was decided. New York was new home.
So she had best start getting to know it better. She'd noticed the kitschy little coffee shop down the street when she went out for a walk around the neighborhood the day before, and that was where she planned on going with Lotte.
What a sweetheart.
She seemed like the sweet and innocent type, and she mused on whether she'd have the looks to match. Maybe she'd be a pretty little thing. Or maybe she'd be one of those wonderful cases of a big, awkward girl with a desperately sweet personality.
She hoped not. That would make this whole business nothing at all like a challenge.
No, she hoped she was petite and lovely, with just the right amount of tentative hope for the future, from a little town somewhere, come to the big, grand city of New York to achieve her dreams of becoming a star of the ballet. It was poetic. The classic story, the one where the girl climbs her way up from nothing with just the clothes on her back and her perseverance, and in the end is rewarded with success.
There were two routes Evelyn could take in such a case. And depending on her conversation with Lotte this afternoon, she'd make her decision on which to nudge the unsuspecting lamb down--the 'fame costs' route, or the 'tragic act of God' route.
Either way, it was entirely up to Lotte whether she stuck with the ballet much longer.
When she came down the stairs, she offered her a sunny smile, brilliant and warm. "You must be Lotte. You couldn't be anyone else."