Blast from the Past Pt. One

Another day at this boring place. Every time I step into this place my "bitch mode" is automatic. You need to have edge if you're going to survive in an enclosure with a bunch of pompous rich kids who always had things handed to them. Who am I kidding I'm no different from them, that's the inherited price to pay? But if I'm honest I would rather be here than being in that place that is supposed to be my home. At least I was treated like a Queen. Some call me a mean girl, but that's only if I don't like you.

I walked the halls flipping my hair, an occasional wink here, and a wave of the hand there. You can call it servicing the fans.