aka; hang me high || jessica + trish
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jessica sneered. “We can’t all be reformed, troubled starlets who still have a world of prospects ahead of them.” Her countenance melted into a teasing smile and she reached across the table to- gently- punch her sister in the arm.
Jessica picked up her drink, whiskey neat, and took a sip. “So I quit the office job, no big deal. I mean, I’m pretty unqualified for most work, but I’m about a thousand percent certain I was overqualified for that position. And the xerox machine was stealing my soul,” she asserted. The bar bustled with youthful energy on a Thursday evening, after working hours.
Jessica knew she would never quite fit in like her sister, Trish. Hell, if Trish could even fit in herself. Former child star- Jess watched it happen. The rise, the fall, the image clean-up. All that, and Trish was still insisting Jessica put herself in the public eye and be a hero. She hated the H-word.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll get a new hobby. Ooh, how about drugs?”