lennon stella twenty1 –– ♡ ❛ darling, i've been waiting so long just to hear you say you're coming home. when you're not here, this bed gets so cold. so, let me fall asleep before you go.
hey loves ! my name is lexi, i’m 20, my pronouns are she/her, and i’m in the est timezone. it’s been a hot sec since i rped on tumblr but i’m excited to be back. under the cut i’ve got her bio ! trigger warning: sexual assault, coercion.
❛ ♫ · » lennon stella, cisfemale, she/her « wow … celeste olivier just told me that their band, lost oddity, got accepted into that battle of the bands thing. wait, you don’t know them? i could’ve sworn i saw you two together at sound institute . well, nevermind. they’re twenty two, and they’re the guitarist of lost oddity. when they’re not playing music, you can usually find them serving drinks at the local coffee shop. i think you’d like them— they’re so positive trait, but … also kind of negative trait, i suppose. you’ll know it’s celeste if you ever meet them, because they’re the walking embodiment of aesthetic & aesthetic.
celeste was born with rose colored glasses. in her eyes, her parents were SAINTS and she worshipped them. she was their angel, always getting straight a’s and proudly displaying them on the SILVER fridge. like many kids, she grew up believing that her parents were good people — who happened their way into wealth.
when celeste turned fourteen, everything made sense. her nanny — the woman who raised her — left celeste a note on the day that her parents sent her packing. her family hadn’t made their wealth at all, but instead scrounged it off of others before leaving them in the dirt.
from that day on, celeste’s only motivation was wanting to be anything but her parents. she would sneak around the city of manhattan, finding trouble wherever she could — as long as it didn’t find her first. she started smoking cigarettes at age fifteen, the treasurer brand being her vice. because her parents used others, she used them — their money, connections, and name.
at age fifteen, she discovered the real reason her nanny had packed her bags. the woman had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, overhearing an affair between the olivier family patriarch and his secretary. caring for celeste’s wellbeing, the woman told mrs. olivier who told her to pack her bags and go. that was the last time that celeste heard from her. she could assume that her family stopped the woman from squealing in the only way they knew how.
during her sixteenth year, her parents had her do the unforgivable task of saving her family’s wealth. the girl, not even an adult, was tasked with seducing the family’s accountant. he had felt pressure to report the olivier’s tax fraud for what it was, wanting to avoid the heat on his own back. with black lingerie and a painted visage, the girl did the deed her parents forced her to do. this wasn’t the first time her parents had coerced her into doing something of this nature, but this was the first time it she went all the way. it took everything in her not to spill tears all over his desk. that was the breaking point for celeste, now a cracked porcelain doll.
on the day that celeste turned eighteen, her parents had a singular gift for her — freedom. with their wallets open and a daughter they couldn’t get back, they let her go. the girl was now a fraction of who she was ten years prior. NUMB was the only word to describe her, seeking thrills wherever she could in order to feel something, anything.
now at age twenty two, celeste has yet to feel something. the world moves around her, begging her to take action, yet she remains frozen with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. her most common company is a glass of whisky with lipstick stains along the rim, held between fingers embellished with jewels that will never truly be hers. she finds solace in a warm body sleeping next to her, the closest she will ever come to love.
