E. Fields; the [not so] model
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have you seen (Β Evie Fields, she/herΒ )? They look a lot like (Β Madelyn ClineΒ ). The (Β 29Β ) year oldΒ (Β dancer at Edenβs Garden Strip ClubΒ ) is so (Β confident, empathetic, and loyalΒ ) but I heard they can also be really (Β over-thinking, distant and jealous.Β ) Can you believe theyβve been in town for (Β 6 monthsΒ )?! They live in the beverly neighborhood and kind of remind me of (Β coastal cool, soft glam, modern romanticΒ ). If I was asked, Iβd guess that they were ( Most Likely to Be a Model ) in their yearbook for the class of (Β 2015Β ).
tw: abuse follows come from huntrcssqueen
full name :Β Evie Renee Fields nickname(s) :Β Eve, Neenee date of birth :Β December 21 parentage: biological mother Pam Kent (passed), biological father Mark Fields (passed), step-father David Kent siblings: older brother and sister significant other: single gender identity :Β cis female ( she/her ) romantic orientation :Β panromantic sexual orientation :Β pansexual occupation :Β dancer at Eden's Garden Strip Club
BIOGRAPHY: (highlights)
abused by her step-father since the age of 16, physically and sexually
mother drank herself to death after Evie left, blames herself
dated around to try and feel love, only felt used and not actually cared for
finds it hard to trust people because of her step-father
became a stripper because she felt she deserved that life
came from a very rich family
her father was a ceo of a company, mom worked with him when he needed someone
her step-father is a producer
BIOGRAPHY: (full)
Evie Fields was born into a life most people only ever glimpse from the outsideβpolished, curated, and impossibly perfect. The youngest of three, with an older brother and sister who seemed to glide effortlessly into their own lives, Evie grew up in a home where appearances mattered. Wealth wrapped around her childhood like a safety net, softening every fall before it could even happen. From the outside, the Fields family was the kind people envied: successful father, elegant mother, well-behaved children, and a house that always felt just a little too pristine to be real. Evie became the centerpiece of that world without ever asking to be. She was magneticβbeautiful in a way that made people look twice, charming in a way that made them stay. At school, she was the girl everyone knew, or thought they knew. Friends orbited her, drawn in by the ease with which she carried herself. Boys, especially, saw her as something to win, something soft and pretty that would be easy to claim. They mistook her warmth for naivety, her kindness for weakness. Evie learned early how to smile through it, how to play the role expected of her, even when it didnβt quite fit.
Everything changed when she was sixteen. Her fatherβher anchor, the quiet constant in a house built on imageβfell ill. It wasnβt gradual in the way people hope tragedies will be. It was sudden, invasive, and final. His death cracked the illusion of perfection wide open, leaving something raw and unrecognizable behind. Her mother unraveled. Grief hollowed her out, turning a once composed and attentive woman into someone distant, fragile, and unreachable. Evieβs siblings were already gone by then, off building their own lives, leaving her behind in a house that no longer felt like home. At sixteen, she became something she was never meant to be: the steady one. The caretaker. The adult. She managed what she couldβbills, appearances, her motherβs spiralling griefβwhile still trying to hold onto the remnants of her own teenage life. But the world she had once moved through so effortlessly became heavier, sharper. The attention she once received began to feel different, more predatory. The illusion of safety was gone, and in its place was a growing understanding that she was, in many ways, alone.
By eighteen, things seemed to be shifting again. Her mother reemerged, slowly at first, then all at once, pulled back into life by a man who promised stability, charm, and a fresh start. He was a producerβsuccessful, charismatic, the kind of man who knew exactly how to present himself. Their whirlwind relationship ended in marriage, and for a moment, it looked like things might finally settle. But Evie saw what others didnβt. Beneath the polished surface, something about him didnβt sit right. His kindness felt rehearsed, his smiles calculated. There was a tension in the way he spoke, a subtle control in how he moved through their lives, as if everythingβand everyoneβwas something to be managed. Evie had grown up around perfection. She knew what it looked like when something was being carefully staged. And she was right to be wary. Behind closed doors, the man her mother married revealed who he truly was. His control turned into manipulation, his charm into cruelty. The house that had once felt empty began to feel suffocating. Evie endured more than she ever spoke aboutβabuse that blurred lines, that chipped away at her sense of safety, her voice, her worth. For a long time, she stayed, convincing herself she had to. For her mother. For what was left of their family. Until she couldnβt anymore.
When Evie finally left, it wasnβt dramatic. There were no goodbyes, no closureβjust the quiet, breaking point of someone who had run out of strength to keep surviving in the same place that was destroying her. She thought leaving would end it. It didnβt. Without Evie there to hold things together, her mother fell deeper than before. The man she had married didnβt save herβhe hollowed out what little remained. Alcohol became her escape, her refuge, her slow undoing. Not long after Evie left, her mother drank herself into an early grave. And no matter how much time passes, no matter how many times she tries to tell herself the truth, Evie carries one unshakable belief: She should have stayed.
