Elizabeth Gillies â± she/her â welcome to cedar point Penelope âPoppyâ Barclay ! the twenty nine year old known for being an heiress . i heard theyâve been living here for three years in Holly Oake Circle and everyone says youâre driven / forceful . youâll know itâs them because of their red bottom heels, dead rich husband robes, dom perignon in every glass . enjoy your stay! oh , and stop blasting rich girl by Hall & Oates , your roommates have been complaining . . .
(TW: Cheating)
Poppy grew up in a midwestern town, she was always surrounded by extravagance. With her family being the ones who owned a fuel company it was hard for her not to be seen as the snobby rich girl in school. Her brother tried to protect her but he was seen the same way, spoiled, rich. It didnât help that her every whim was catered to without question, so when Poppy found an interest in anything she was given everything she needed to pursue the interest. However when she started taking an interest in her family company her father made space for her too.
First he was a little hesitant, thinking that it might be a bad idea for them to work together in this capacity. He started to see the value in Poppyâs input, after she pointed out a few errors in contracts that her father could use to exploit. Poppy went to business school in New York, finding solace in knowing that her father wanted the best for her.Â
She loved business school, thriving under the influence of her teachers, and finally getting her fathers approval. At first she worked in the background, not overly wanting to be too involved, but that was boring, she hated it. Every step she made gained excitement for her, but it was always short lived. Eventually she made it to the top and she just quit, she already had more money than she knew what to do with, she didnât need a job getting in her way of enjoying her life. She threw herself into the deep end of being a heiress and socialite, private jets, exclusive parties, fancy yachts, fancy cars, every last inch. She might not have had a job, but being rich was a job.
Then she met him, he was everything she didnât expect, he wanted her, no matter the cost, he treated her like a princess, everything her heart desired in a man he had it, charming, handsome, rich. It was everything her father wanted for her too, not a bum off the street, but someone who put in effort to take care of her. Finally she thought she had found âthe oneâ or so she thought.Â
He cheated, and to make matters worse he hid it for months, then when she finally thought she could trust him, she got pictures and messages from an anonymous number demanding payment to not take it public. But Poppy one upped the anonymous person, instead posting the pictures online, allowing herself to break the news in the most public way, taking back her life despite feeling humiliated she still had the power.
It wasnât too long after they fought for what would be the last time that he disappeared, his car was found a few states over but she didnât ask questions. Everyone in their inner circle knew what had happened, but no one was going to admit that they knew. Her mother tried reassuring her that sometimes men werenât meant to be in your life forever, but she knew that was just glossing over what had happened.
She moved into Cedar Point three years ago, deciding to stick to what she knows she found a place in Holly Oake Circle to continue her constant parties, lack of restraint, and good times, continuing to take up control of her own life and never stopping to look back on a man who hurt her beyond belief.
Axel was always up for a drink or two after work. Especially on a Friday like today. He was nursing a whiskey on the rocks, and checking up on the news on his phone. Truly, he had intended to mind his own business, but he got bored after two minutes of looking online. Turning his attention to the people nearby at the bar he noticed a good looking woman next to a guy. The guy seemed... off. Not that Axel had even remotely a good sense of judgment of character. Axel did his best to not make it obvious he was paying attention to them. After listening for a few moments he realized the woman was not with the man and he interjected. "Excuse me, miss... is that guy bugging you?"
Poppy had been trying her best to make her way through date after very unsuccessful date, and every time she felt like once again she was being slapped in the face. It was weird how many times she just wanted something simple and she always ended up leaving. Now here she was at the bar and someone had just left, followed by someone at the bar trying to be all over her. A little part of her felt desperate enough to take him up on his offer, but she also knew that was absolutely not the right move at this time. She was drawn out of her stupor by the voice behind her and she turned back like she had found a savior. She lowered her voice, just enough. "Yes, yes very much so and he won't stop talking.â @axel-mathis
There was no denying they both got under each others skin, he did that with most people. He was used to rubbing them the wrong way. "Bourbon's a little trashy, don't you think?" Perhaps that was the point, but he didn't associate girls with money to be drinking bourbon. "You were downing that wine like a shot, I don't think you'd be doing shots of bourbon. That sounds criminal, tequila goes down better."
They couldn't really ignore each other with her father's eyes on them, everything always got back to his mother so he had to keep up appearances somehow. He was certain she was exactly the same. "You know they should be paying us for whatever this is, right?" He rolled his eyes. "I can do that whenever you like, unfortunately we still have to keep up appearances in public though, don't we?" @poppybarclay
âBourbon? Trashy? But you donât think tequila is? The drink that teenagers have too much of on vacation and end up throwing up for hours then vowing never to drink tequila again?â She asked, genuinely curious as to how he could think that tequila would ever be more classy than bourbon. Not that either of them were overly good when it came to their standing in class. That was far more of a good wine holding the torch.
Poppy hated having eyes on her, breathing down her neck, she wanted something simple, that was kind and pure. There was nothing about Abel that was pure, and that much she was sure of. âPaying us? You still have to be paid? Iâm fully tied into my familyâs bank. The only thing I have to worry about is whether or not I get cut off.â She let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking her head. âIâm sure thereâs a good hotel somewhere so you donât have to come to my bedroom and defile my comfortable space.â @abelxlivingstone
"I know I should be jealous, but that just sounds tiring as hell." Pippa admitted while balancing plates in her hand. "Doesn't it get overwhelming having that much choice about everything? How the hell do you get anything done?" A wide grin flashed Poppy's way. "Thanks, I'm a comedy genius." she snarkily replied. It was endlessly amusing how the other woman viewed the world; the thought that something as simple as her order and some extra cash thrown their way would solve everything. "You going to throw in your autograph for good measure?"
The dishes slid into the dish bucket with a soft clang, her hands soon wiping against her apron. Her nose crinkled slightly at the offer. Pippa hated the idea of a handout. Sure, she may cheat and lie along the way, but she always worked for everything she ever had. "You don't have to do that. Plus, I'd be an awful spa buddy. I cannot be quiet or meditative to save my life."
âYou would be right⊠On occasion it does get kinda boring having SO much to choose from, but quite often it all just gets laid out in front of me so I just⊠Get what I want.â She knew Pippa was joking, but the reality of the way she lived was very much how it was being described. âOh I know you are. Iâm used to it.â Poppy said a little matter of factly. But she couldnât help appreciating Pippa. âWell, I do have to sign the receipt. Come on please, Iâve been dying for a spa day.â
Poppy watched from the side while Pippa worked, something about having to have a ârealâ job made her break out in hives, almost like she was allergic to even the idea of having to do hard work. It was a good thing she was still her dadâs favorite, but the day that changed would spell the end of Poppy Barclay. Not today though, today she was still well connected. âYou donât have to be quiet, we can chat, get your nails done, whatever you want.â @pip-danvers
"Jesus," Abel's dark eyes watched as she downed the wine like a shot. "I could've ordered you a tequila shot if that's what you wanted," he commented, taking a sip of his own wine, slow and steady. Abel wasn't about to rush his glass just 'cause she needed the liquid courage to be here.
"I've had my head between your legs, Poppy. I know you well enough." He retorted, a sly smirk curving into his lips as he reminisced. "You're right though, we do look really good together." Abel let the bartender return, this time ordering another glass of wine and the tequila shot this time too. "Is that better for you? How long is "for now"? anyway?" @poppybarclay
âTequila? Really? Considering the amount of shots I take to keep myself from throttling you⊠You should know my drink of choice is bourbon.â She rolled her eyes a little, hearing the drink order she resolved herself to drink the tequila anyway. âBut honestly? At this point Iâm down for anything⊠Even you. So this is fine by me.â
âI do much prefer it with your head between my legs, you donât talk as much and you just look pretty.â She shrugged softly, it wouldnât be her if she tried to lie about it. âFacts of life, people who look the best together quite often hate each other more than appearances.â She paused a little. âWell, how long is it until your head is back between my legs and we can go back to ignoring each other until we have to have another date?â @abelxlivingstone
"Can't you just pretend to not look like you've swallowed a lemon?" Abel teasingly asked, a charming smile upon his lips. His mother had been talking to her father, next thing he knows he'd been set up on a date with her but she was hot, so he wasn't going to complain. One date had now turned into many. Wasn't the first time, certainly wouldn't be the last, either. Granted, he knew Penelope wasn't exactly fond of him, yet here they were putting on the act.
He motioned for the bartender to get them a couple of glasses of wine, then sat down opposite her. "Not my fault you're too scared to tell your father you fucking hate me." @poppybarclay
âOh, you still donât know me that well, I canât pretend when Iâm forced to sit here with you.â She said, the scowl on her face only getting deeper, there was no part of her that wanted to enjoy having another forced date with Abel, everything about him was slimy. That being said he looked good with her, and it was making her status go up and in her book she had to give credit to that point.
She picked up the glass, automatic reflexes thanking him for the wine. She drank it like a shot, throwing it back, the taste of the wine loosening her up a little. âWeird how you think you know me like that, Iâve told him multiple times, he just doesnât understand and wants me to give it⊠More of a shot⊠Donât know why I listen to him. Besides, you make me look better, common sense says to go with it... For now.â @abelxlivingstone
"You do? I never would have guessed. Everything always seems just to your taste." Pippa's words could not have been woven with more sarcasm if she tried. Her work continued as she shook her head, laughing at Poppy's next words. "Okay, I know it's not how they do things in 'Billionaresville' or whatever, but us common folk can't just leave when we're tired of work." she lamented, wiping her hands on the stained apron hanging off her hips. "Plus, I don't have 'spa going' money. A little outside my tax bracket, girl."
âWell, when I have everything custom made just how I like it, how can I not have everything to my taste?â She asked, a syrupy sweet smile on her face, not ashamed to be completely open about the fact she basically pissed diamonds. âBillionaresville is so funny, but, what if I left like⊠A really big tip and ordered a coffee?â She asked, rolling a lock of hair between her fingertips. âAnd who said you were paying? This is on me, I donât offer to take someone places without paying, besides, itâs me, I donât pay for this place, nor does anyone who comes with me.â @pip-danvers
who: open to all
where: The Danvers' Diner ;; Afternoon
Shifts had been getting harder; not only was the staff and the customer base dwindling day by day, Pip just felt more and more uncomfortable as this new change continued to parade around her life. And here she was: cleaning up tables where every dish seemed to elicit nausea. "If you're coming here to complain about your order," she began as she noticed the other begin to approach her, eyes never leaving the table she was wiping up. "I'm warning you: I could not give less of a fuck. I'm down two line cooks, so you're lucky your food is even edible. Other than that, how can I help you?"
Poppy pressed her lips into a line as she entered the diner, something about the aura of the diner she was in just screamed that she wasnât meant to be there. But something about Pip working here amused her more than anything, even if it shouldnât. âYou already know I love to complain, but no, not about the food.â Poppy interjected, a cheeky grin was on her face as she looked over at Pip. âI was thinking that we could head out after youâre done and go to a spa or something⊠Iâm sure youâre tired of work for the day.â @pip-danvers
