Title: "Paris Has it Easy"
Author: monimala
Fandom: American Heiress
Rating/Classification: AC for mild language and sexual implications, Loren gen.
Disclaimer: AH belongs to MyNetworkTV and I am reaping nothing but amusement from the characters' use.
Summary: This is Loren Wakefield's contribution to the world. 425 words.

Being Loren Wakefield takes work. That's what nobody realizes, what nobody appreciates. She has to jump in every fountain, down every shot, and dance with every guy who looks like he might be somebody. She has to smile, always smile, and make sure her teeth are perfect. She keeps a regular appointment for a Brazilian wax in case the stalkerazzi snap her ending a night without panties. She dyes her hair, tans all over, and smokes just enough to keep the husk in her voice. She only sleeps with the rich and powerful over fifty and pretends not to be grossed out by the little blue pills that go hand in handjob with it.

She'll never be nice like Matthew or perfect like Elizabeth or a third as clever as Damian. All she can do is party every night like it's her last night on earth. That's her contribution to the world: Herself, in tacky, trashy, Technicolor glory.

It's a 24 hour show, seven days a week. She even walks around the house dressed to the nines. Heels, full makeup, hairspray and a vodka tonic. She wakes up every morning with lip gloss stains on the pillowcase. She doesn't think anyone has seen her without her face on since she was 20.

Just once... just once she'd like to curl up in one of Damian's old college sweatshirts and a pair of boxers, ponytail her hair, and eat a gallon of ice cream. Just once, she'd like to go out in shorts and flip-flops and drink a diet soda while she pages a Jackie Collins novel and enjoys a quiet day on the beach. But she doesn't. That's how committed she is to being Loren. To being the screw-up and the slut and being damn good at it.

She's been doing it so long that even her family can't remember her being anything else.

They don't remember when she was gawky, when she was awkward, when Parker took her to the school dance because he felt sorry for her and he didn't care that her palms were sweaty and she had no idea what to say. Parker doesn't remember either. All he ever sees is the Loren Wakefield she parades in front of him... and she always feels his eyes lingering on that girl even when his mouth is offering denials. He thinks she's a tramp, an embarrassment, a joke. She's heard him say it a thousand times. But he still wants her. He still gets hard for her. He hates himself as much as she loves him but he still enjoys the show.

They all enjoy the show. They love her in all her tacky, trashy, Technicolor glory.

But she still wakes up every morning with lip gloss stains on the pillowcase. Who would've thought they're surprisingly good at masking the traces of tears?

--end--

June 21, 2007.



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