{unable to cope. [closed @ bevisangue]
Still to that minute, Daisy Buchanan couldn't believe she was... alone.
Jay was dead, or so she heard. Attending the funeral? No, she... she wouldn't. She couldn't. It would be suicide. She had a daughter after all, a little girl to take care of and nurture and a husband to tend after and speak of the cooling sun with--...
Or rather, she had.
The blonde found herself with copious amount of time to spend dwelling of what could have been and what never was. What never would be. Daisy Gatsby-- never to be. Never was. She still had difficulty grasping it all. She couldn't-- not on her own, at least. Her heart simply couldn't take it.
She waited, sitting down in a nice, plush chair as she did so. A therapist huh... Even the spunky blonde felt as if she was being a bit dramatic by going to one, but she simply needed someone to talk too. Jordan was... she was unfortunately more accessory than a friend. Daisy hated that. She wished so much she had a friend to confide in. Now she was just getting desperate.
But was she ready?
She heard a faint 'come in' resound from behind the door, and immediately the short haired blonde put on her happy mask and walked in with confidence. It was something she was simply too used to doing. The young woman must have seemed to fake... But it was simply the way her past-marriage had to be. All smiles and kisses and hugs, even after Tom's cavorting-- well, not that she was innocent either, thanks to Jay.
"Hello! I'm Daisy Buchanan. You must be Dr. Lecter. Wonderful to meet you, truly wonderful!" the blonde chirruped, and she held a hand out to shake.
