FakeIt(emaline)

[mariah grace fergusen]

and just fake it if you're out of direction
fake it if you don't belong here

The sheer size of the food court of the model rocked Mariah. It always did. It was massive, nearly pure white except for the tables and plants. The tables were a dark gray color and the plants were palm trees. Who ever heard of palm tree in Maryland? Mariah never had, but apparently the mall people thought it accent the mall nicely. They could think whatever they like and Mariah would still think it looked fake. The tables where shoved close together to make room for, guess what, more tables. And ringed around this exciting area of tables and trees were the food stand themselves. Sonic, Marble Slab, White Castle, McDonald's, some sushi place, and multiple other things. All ready to serve meals at a moments notice.

Mariah had decided to venture to the mall to obtain some more reading material. Her father had to give her a ride because, unlike her sister, she did not have a license yet. Mariah dreaded driving fully on her own, though she did have a permit to drive. She hated it, all the other cars zooming around, the complete attention you had to focus on the task. As a writer she was used to letting her mind drift and that was a problem when someone drove. Her driving instructor said she zoned out a lot while driving, and that was truth. But her father was understanding and let her learn at her own pace. He had dropped her off and told her to call him when she was ready.

Before coming to the food court, Mariah had gone into Borders. She picked up a few new books, all from different genres. Sci-fi, romance, mystery, and even horror. She liked to expand her horizons for any type of writing, whether it be a corny teenage book or a Greek tragedy. So with her purchases in hand, she walked around the mall. Inspiration struck her at this moment, and with a quick duck into a writing supply store. Now, with books, notepad, and pencil in hand, she had come to the food court.

She glanced around the large, and really crowded, food court and finally spied an empty table. She maneuvered her way through the obstacle course of tables, running into a baby stroller and a man getting up before finally sitting down with a quick sigh. She smoothed down her skirt, and almost OCD compulsion that had come from wearing skirts and dresses all the time. She set her bag and notepad on the table and pulled out her pencil. She flipped open the notepad and began to jot down ideas. She was leaned over the pad, her dusky brunette hair creating a veil around her head that blocked her view of the food court. She was in her world.

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[emaline taylor grannon]

Honking at the random people in the parking lot, Emy drove her car around for a couple of minutes. She tried to find a spot for her huge truck, and finally, she did. Parking crookedly, she hopped out of the truck, toting her huge purse with her.

She waltzed into the mall, heading towards the nearest Abercrombie. She was going to a huge party tonight and needed a new party outfit. She never dressed skanky, but her other party outfits were at the cleaners. She needed something simple, yet something that popped out. Finding the perfect shirt and skirt outfit, she payed with daddy's credit card and left the store, heading towards the food court.

Since she skipped last period, she called one of her friends to figure out what happened and how to do the homework she picked up from the teacher. Stuffing her phone back in her purse, she ordered some Sonic and started to glance around for an empty table. Since it was a friday, and afterschool, there was absolutely no empty tables. The only one not totally crowded by people was one with only one girl at it. She looked to be writing, and Emy actually recognized her from school. She wasn't in dance, like Emy was, but i think she was in writing.

Moving around the people, it took her about ten minutes to get to the girl at the table. "Uhm, hi. Can i sit here with you? There aren't any other seats, and these heels are killing me." Emy looked down at the girl, hoping she'd hurry up and answer her. Her heels were actually killing her.

[mariah grace fergusen]

and just fake it if you're out of direction
fake it if you don't belong here

It was odd what one little action can do to a person. When Mariah would write, she would forget about the world, the only thing that had her attention were the pen and the paper, everything else was secondary. At home she would spend long stretches of time just writing, it would take her father to break her out of that spell to get her to eat or sometimes even go to school. While Livvy was close to their father, Mariah had more of a detachment to him. Sure he was their father but she largely ignored him, it irked her a bit to think that she actually didn't know if she loved him. On the other hand, Mariah didn't even know if she loved her sister, she assumed that she did, since everyone loves their family members, right? Mariah shook her hand absently, her dusky hair running across the lined paper. Her hand stoped for a second as these thoughts pile through her mind.

They didn't have anything to do with what she was writing, so why think about it? Mariah shrugged and pushed it back, making it more background noise. The thoughts about her father's detachment and her sister's self-destructive actions went to the back of her mind as Mariah returned to the quiet solitude of writing. It was the only true escape she had other then reading. Someone once said hell was other people, Mariah believed that completely. Most of the emotional pain Mariah felt was caused by friends or family, mostly family. And she felt caught, her sister spent more and more time being the whore of school and her father spent more and more time at work while Mariah... stayed the same. She sighed, her hand shaking a bit as she tried to continue writing.

A voice entered her ears, breaking her away from her thoughts, away from her writing, away from the safe house she had built for herself in her mind. She glanced up slowly, reluctant to acknowledge that the real world did exist and that it did, in fact, contain pain and death and misery. The girl asked Mariah if she could sit down because her heels were killing her. Mariah leaned over slightly and looked at the girls shoes, they were in fact high heels. Mariah nodded slightly and vocalized her answer, and always being nice she said yes. "Sure, feel free to sit as long as you want. You won't be disturbing me." She gave the girl a small polite smile, hiding her previous thoughts from the girl. Mariah was good at that, it kept people from asking her questions.

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[emaline taylor grannon]

Waiting for a long time for the girl to give her an answer, gave Emy some time to think. Think about her father, about her mother, and about the fact that her life had no purpose really. She was just a pretty face, nothing really more. She needed some loud music with a good beat, since dancing was her real escape. Sure, she had friends, but none of them were close enough to her for her to let her REAL self out.

The girl gave the okay for her to sit down. "Hello, i'm Emy. Do you go to Darmon? I swear you look really familar." Tossing her bag to the side of her, she stuck one hand out for the girl to shake.

[mariah grace fergusen]

and just fake it if you're out of direction
fake it if you don't belong here

Sometimes Mariah would go to bed early, like at six o'clock, mostly because her father was working, mostly because her sister was out, and mostly because she liked to just lay there and think. It wasn't better or worse then pouring out ideas onto a piece of paper, it was a lateral movement at best. She would brood on things while laying there as the sun slowly slipped down to the horizon and then past it. The rays of sunshine slowly rippling across the walls and ceilings of her room like the last wave of a child to her mother as the bus she was on took her to her first day of first grade.

During these few hours before she finally slipped into the peacefulness of sleep she would ponder some of the things about her life, why she did what she did, why her sister did what she did, and many other things. Livvy had multiple people to express herself to, multiple people to cling to, to cry to, to depend on. Mariah had few to none, the only people she knew quite well avoided her on her sister's part and were to busy on her father's part.

Why was she thinking these thoughts right now? Maybe because the girl who had just sat down, this random happenstance of two people meeting, had spoken to her and asked about her. The girl introduced herself, asked her if she went to Darmon and swore that she had seen her before. Mariah smiled slightly and shook her head, reluctantly looking up from the notebook with her scrawls on it. "Hi, I'm Mariah," Mariah said, introducing herself and shaking the girls hand, her handshake very weak.

"Yes, I go to Darmon, I'm a writer," Mariah said with a small shrug and tip of her head to her notebook as though to prove her point. She hated saying she was a 'writer' she was a fake at best, she knew none of her stuff was very good but she still wrote, it was a release for her. "It's probably not me you've seen, it's probably my sister, Livvy," Mariah said with a small sigh, setting her pencil down on the notebook. "She's in dance, what are you in?" Mariah asked, always entertaining the notion that she might make a friend and usually ending up being wrong.

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[emaline taylor grannon]

Wow, this girl sure did think to herself a lot. Emy thought a little to herself, flipping through her internal camera, thinking of her family, who wasn't really ever around, back to her friends, who were fake as those people you saw on tv. She considered herself pretty likeable, just, trust issues didn't mix well with the fact she had a million people trying to get her to trust them. She couldn't trust most of the as far as she could throw them though. There weren't a lot of real people at Darmon, but she always happened upon them, usually the writers. The dancers were the fakest of all though.

The girl across from her introduced herself as Mariah. "Livvy, i've heard that name before. Maybe it was her, but i swear i saw someone who looked and acted more like you do. You two are twins, right?Or no? But anyways, i'm in dance too." Mariah was a sweet enough girl, just a little to quiet. Maybe she'd open up the more time Emy spent talking to her. She could use someone who wasn't as fake as a celebrity.

[mariah grace fergusen]

and just fake it if you're out of direction
fake it if you don't belong here

Mariah nodded, trying not to zone out on the girl as she was prone to sometimes. "Yes, I think everyone in the school has heard about my sister," Mariah said with a small shrug, glancing down at her paper. A quick idea popped into her head and she snatched up her paper and scrawled something nearly illegible on it. She could read and if she wanted to, she could easily write beautifully, but she preferred her chicken scratch, it kept people from reading over her shoulder. "The funny thing is," Mariah said, now musing out loud, "Is that many people know LIvvy but not many know she has a sister, or even care."

She shrugged again, like it was just one of life's little mysteries and then proceeded to answer Emy's other question, the one about whether they were twins. "Yes, yes we are," Mariah said with a hint of a smile and continued, "Don't asked stuff like do we hear each others thoughts or anything like that." She said it in a light tone, like it was a joke that Emy was allowed to be part of. Mariah was nice, but sometimes she was too nice and let people railroad her, thus she lost friends this way because most people wanted someone who would push back. Mariah would, but only if you pushed certain places, and there were few of those places.

"So you're a dancer? That's cool," Mariah said and smiled a bit sheepishly. "I've always envied my sister a bit for the talent she had." Mariah glanced around the still crowded food court. Amazing how one little conversation could make her forget where she was. "The only talent I have is this," Mariah said, gesturing to her notebook, a few pages already filled up. She wasn't like most artists who were proud of their works. She was her own worst critic.

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[emaline taylor grannon]

Emy watched Mariah as she told her of her sister, and how no one knew that Livvy even had one. "I knew she had one, but i wasn't really sure if she was her twin, older, or younger. Livvy doesn't really bring you up much at practice." She kind of felt bad for Mariah. If Emy had a twin and no one really acknowledged she was there, she'd feel horrible. Emy wasn't sure if Mariah felt bad about it or not. She made a mental note to ask later. If she asked now, it might make Mariah just go back to her writing, and Emy didn't want that.

Emy laughed at Mariah's joke. "Can any twins do that?" Emy acted as if she was really interested in that certain question, even though Mariah knew she wasn't. Emy was glad that Mariah didn't seem like someone who would push much with her. Emy admired that. She knew that she was a pusher, but she never really meant to be. Emy would, of course, realize what she was doing and apologize almost immediatly after it.

Emy nodded, saying she was a dancer. "Honestly, i'd rather have the talent to write amazingly, like all the writers do, than be able to spin in pretty little circles." She glanced at Mariah's notebook and noticed that it was pretty full. She couldn't even write good papers for a school class, and Mariah could write anything. She was really jealous.

[mariah grace fergusen]

and just fake it if you're out of direction
fake it if you don't belong here

Mariah waved a dismissive hand, like it didn't really matter that Emy knew that Livvy had a sister or not. She nodded slightly when Emy brought up the fact that Livvy didn't bring up the topic of having a sister at dance practice. "That sounds like her," Mariah said in a neutral sounding voice. She was giving her sister the benefit of the doubt, maybe Livvy was just busy during practice, it's not like they were there to chit-chat about their hopes and feelings. At least, Mariah was pretty sure they weren't, wasn't dance practice for practicing dance? She nearly shrugged to herself but stopped, it would be weird if she shrugged for no reason.

Mariah smiled slightly, her lips curling upward slightly as Emy jokingly asked if any twins could do that. "I don't know, I'm sure some will say they can but they can't be trusted," She said with a small chuckle but her smile quickly faded as she continued, "But I think the whole twin telepathy comes about really because you know your twin almost as well as yourself." She tried to not think about how different and far apart she was from Livvy, but it was mostly because Livvy pushed her away and Mariah didn't try anything to stop it.

Mariah shrugged yet again, a useful gesture when you really didn't know how to respond to something. It gave you a moment to think of something to say. "I promise you, none of my writing is amazing," Mariah said with a small smile, as though she was playing it off. But in reality she actually did think most of her stuff was bad, her teachers thought she was a brilliant writer but to Mariah that just showed how bad of teachers they were. "Yes, but people see you dance, they acknowledge that you have that natural ability. With writing, people read the writing and attach themselves to the writing. They never think that what is written is actually the writers feelings," Mariah ranted for a bit and then blushed, shaking her head.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to rant at you or anything," Mariah said, glancing down at her notebook and then back up at Emy. "You, uh, should eat your food," Mariah replied, pointing towards the girls Sonic meal that sat forgotten on the table. Mariah herself wasn't very hungry, though she hadn't eaten all day. She didn't have a eating disorder or anything, no, she just wasn't hungry.

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[emaline taylor grannon]

It was weird that Livvy never brought Mariah up. It wasn't like they practiced the whole time. Even when they were practicing, all the girls talked to each other about everything that was on their mind. Livvy actually talked the most out of all the girls. Odd. She made a mental note to mention about her encounter with Mariah to Livvy later on today at practice.

"Yeah, that's true. Most people do, unless you don't like your twin." Emy knew that if she had a twin, she wouldn't know them in the slightest bit, just because she'd be annoyed by the fact that there was someone that was the spitting image of her. Emy hated being like everyone else. Having an identical twin would drive her up the wall!

Listening to Mariah, she kind of realized what she was saying. "I know when i read something good, i think of the writer and what they were thinking when they wrote it. But that's just me. Anyone who watches a dancer tries to figure out what they're doing and imitate it. At least writer's can't really be imitated, since it's your own thoughts and feelings."

Emy laughed and shook her head, indicating she didn't mind at all. Once Mariah mentioned her food, Emy looked down at it, completely forgetting she had it. She pulled out the fries and started to munch on them. "Do you want any of this? I feel like a fatty eating without someone eating with me. I've got enough food for half the starving people in Africa." Emy smiled, glad she was getting along so well with Mariah.

[mariah grace fergusen]

and just fake it if you're out of direction
fake it if you don't belong here

Mariah listened to Emy and nodded slightly, a bit more enthusiastically then she normally would. "That's... true," Mariah said, trying to pick her words carefully. She didn't want to make it seem like she and Livvy fought all the time, which they didn't, but she didn't want Emy to think that they were buddy buddy, which they weren't. Mariah believed that Livvy and herself had a normal sibling relationship, like they weren't even twins. Though they did share the same face, same birthday, same hairstyle, a few too many similarities that would make anyone too uncomfortable. A suddent thought came to Mariah, what if she and Livvy were just afraid of becoming like the other? A possible thought, Mariah really wished she could talk to Livvy ab out it, but the last time they had a heartfelt talk was in their preteen years.

Mariah smiled again and nodded. Emy pretty much got it. Though, thinking that way made Mariah feel like a pompous fool, who did she think she was? Some kind of novelist? Hell no, she was just a idiot who had too many ideas floating around her head and a hand that needed to write. "Yeah but then you have the people who think a writer is good and people who think the writer is bad. Who's right? Who's wrong? Probably neither. It's like how a writer can write something and people will interpret it multiple different ways, even ways that a writer could predict... and there I go again," She said and laughed nervously. She tucked a curly piece of dusky brunette hair behind her ears as she looked over at one of the food kiosks.

"Nah, I'm not really hungry," Mariah said, turning back to look at Emy. "And I don't think that's enough for half of Africa... maybe one-fourth." Mariah was a bit shocked that she was having such a long winded conversation with some random girl she met. Well, it wasn't long winded, not really, it was just small talk, somewhat. Mariah figured that she just needed to enjoy the conversation right now, since it was possible Emy would just be another acquaintance.

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