Although she couldn't claim to have terribly much to pride herself on anymore--she'd cop to letting herself go, and her work back home was certainly nothing to boast about--Mandy was proud of dealing with most the crap that came her way. She supposed that, compared to the absolute shitstorm that had been Brian Slade at the end, Big Brother of suburbia wasn't so bad.
There were moments, of course, where she wondered where the hell her spirit of rebellion had gone. Probably the same place as the furs and diamonds and everyone besides Curt who gave a damn about her. Another pretty, exciting thing that, in the end, was pretty damn useless.
So here she was, waitressing again, for Godssake, and actually trying not to feel sorry for herself. Which was why instead of holing up in the apartment with a bottle of whatever was cheap, she was actually walking around trying to--well, she'd say smell the roses, but that would be being far too kind to this place.
God, she missed New York. It might not have been pretty, but at least it was familiar. Here, even without all the trappings that had once made her Mandy Slade, she felt like she stuck out even more than the blue-magic-blood sucking types.
Not that any of those feelings kept her from noticing the well dressed man walking past. She put on what she hoped what was a charming grin, choosing that moment to stop to crush out her cigarette.