[heavily inspired by "city of girls" by elizabeth gilbert]

you’re a 19 year old girl in new york city for the first time. fresh from boarding school, one you didn't exactly "pass," so to say. your parents have shipped you off to live with your aunt and you stay on the third floor of the theatre house she owns. the building is old and rackety but your room is fairly nice.

it's fairly obvious that the plays this place runs have no real plot or substance and mostly rely on the dancers and showgirls to flaunt their stuff to the crowd, but you don't mind. one in particular catches your eye. taylor. to put it simply, she's breathtakingly gorgeous.

whenever she walks into a room everyone's attention is diverted to her, and she knows it. she takes great pride in her beauty, actually. she may as well be the most narcissistic and self absorbed person you've ever seen, but you don't mind. just to breathe in the same air as her is an honor. better yet, she actually seems intrigued by you sometimes, and once called you pretty.

which is why you don't complain when she suddenly shows up to your room in the middle of the night. she lives in the theatre too, but in a smaller room. its barely been a week since you arrived. you sit up wide awake as she stumbles into your room, full face of make up and in a sparkly dress, reeking of the smell of booze and smoke. you're stunned, but she's angelic, even now. as if it's normal, she just stands over your bed.

"scoot," is all she says, and you oblige without putting up a fight. you seriously can't sleep now though, since she's taken up all the space and all the blanket. taylor is entitled. very, very entitled. and yet, you're willing to give her just about whatever she wants. you lay there and just look at her as she knocks out. you can't help but wonder where she's been.

this was the first time it's happened, but the next day she's back, and before you know it she's moved into your room and basically made it her own. her clothes and things are everywhere. it's completely fine with you though. and you've become friends, sorta. after work at the theatre she's off to the city. some nights she'll come back and fall asleep right away, and some nights she'll drunkenly babble about her escapades and the guys she's been with. you, on the other hand, have absolutely no experience. even though you're the same age as her.

you're not sure what kind of night today will be, but here she is again. dressed in barely anything and stumbling into your room.

"hey, scoot."