Themadisynhuang - You're A Rich Girl

Unfortunately, that was something Madisyn could relate to. One day she was on top, was social media royalty, and even without the help of the scandals Dominik had dragged her into, Mads could acknowledge she wasn't some twenty year old dancing on TikTok, thus earning some lucrative TV show deal, that her shining star would fade one day. No longer the hot new thing, she was, according to the comments she read as part of her morning routine, an awful, selfish has-been, who had a mental breakdown and now lives on a farm in Illinois.

Though she didn't have a mental breakdown, thank-you-very-much. A change in career was an extremely stable and sane choice to make.

The comment about the brand new baby, hwoeevr? Her mind flashed to Lucas — a true Judas indeed — and her smile strained. "Well, mama must be a fool if she thinks these newbies have anything on the OG." She made a point of placing the book she swiped into her overfilling basket. "But by the looks of things, you're still more loved if you got the nice covers, means someone in marketing must have a thing for you." And she playfully wiggled her eyebrows.

"Oh these? Just broadening my horizons. Getting into cooking...gardening." She slyly glanced down, "Murder." Sure, it was a lie, but Madi wasn't exactly going to tell a writer she was buying books to shove on a shelf and not crack open the spine.

What she had not needed yet adored was another stoking the easily flammable vanity that could rage on like an uncontained wildfire in the midst of a drought. Some people were touchy, sensitive and others were not. It was always a hit or miss when interacting with the public and how one might perceive your actions. As a somewhat public figure and in need of the public for keeping her income going, Eliana always did her best not to put a bad taste in their mouths. Which was one of the reasons she had an alter ego when it came to misbehaving, or really anything that would taint her reputation. And there was a lot of it.

A grin curved her mouth as the other picked up one of her books. Ellie's photo was on the back along with a small blurb about the author. So, she had to be cautious with this move. "They're mine, yeah. It's hard when you're no longer than brand new shiny thing," she'd playfully claimed with a light huff and roll of her eyes. "It's like mama brought home a brand new baby and I'm no longer the center of attention." At least her book was still on the front table six months post publishing. The compliment was reason for the blonde to preen. "Right? That's what I'm saying — covers are so important if you want to be showcased. No one wants something boring on display."

Then, Ellie noted the books the other was carrying, "what are you picking up today?" Not once had she ever been able to tamp down her curiosity.

MADISYN: if I say yes will i get put on the damn list 😒 MADISYN: Like c'mon...it's a friend's birthday

JEANIE: Wait who is this???? JEANIE: Is this the milf with the giant hair?? bc she's the only vip i can think of 💋💋 @themadisynhuang

📲 Jamie (Aurora)

MADISYN: heyyyy girlie 💗💗 MADISYN: thinking a few friends of mine might come to the club this weekend just wondering if theres like any VIP perks or something 🥰

@jeanieinabxttle

God, Madisyn should have known from day one that Grace was a freaky stalker. It all seemed off from the jump, from how her publicist pushed for those fucking health bar with Madi's face and name on them, meeting up with the blonde and her Cheshire cat grin. And ultimately, how this shrill British bitch was the reason poor Madi was constantly was afflicted with the scent of llama first thing in the morning. She had half a mind to throw her cup of sludge into Grace's cocky little face, but resisted.

If only because it might not have been what Madisyn ordered, but even oat milk was too good for this wench.

"Oh, I wasn't aware you've been looking for me? I thought you were living it up in little ol' England!" Not that she cared, never seeking out the businesswoman once shit hit the fan with their product. "I've been super good, babe. And you?" Aware that the barista was watching their stilted interaction as if it were some exciting tennis match, Madisyn gestured to a table. "Why don't you get yourself something and we can have a real catch-up over there?" Some semblance of privacy, at least.

Grace had been preparing to approach Madisyn the entire week she’d been in Blue Harbor. From the research she’d conducted, the disgraced influencer apparently was often spotted in town purchasing her coffee from local establishments like Latte Love. Frankly, Grace didn’t understand the appeal. It was a far cry from the polished, high-end cafés she was used to, but no matter. She’d been stopping at Latte Love every day in hopes of running into Madisyn, not because she was a fan of the coffee. (Grace was very particular about her coffee, like most things in her life).  As she stepped into the cafe, the blonde’s eyes landed on a familiar face. Finally her efforts seemed to be paying off. With a perfectly poised smile, Grace closed the distance between them with measured, graceful steps, heels clicking on the floor as she did so. As Madisyn turned to greet with that sing-song voice that seemed to flood the streets of Los Angeles, Grace maintained her poise, the practice smiled she’d worn countless times in high society events firmly in place. “Madisyn Huang,” Grace replied, her voice smooth and controlled. “You’re a difficult woman to track down.” She glanced briefly at the cup in Madisyn’s hand, recalling how the girl had been berating the barista just moments earlier. Typical. It seemed even in this small town, chaos followed wherever Madisyn went. Grace tilted her head, a polite (if not entirely genuine) curiosity in her eyes. “How have you been?”

If Deacon wasn't so good looking — regardless if she had a chance with him or not — Mads didn't know if she'd be able to stomach his...perpetual optimism. How nothing seemed to be an issue, how everything had an answer. Like, a girl was just allowed to whine: was she not? "My mind is telling me that my stomach is about to eat itself, and my brain is so bored that it's going to start depriving itself from oxygen." She hissed back at him.

As she began to do the cooling down exercises from the session, Madisyn focused on breathing, reminding herself she was just hangry and it was no fault of her friend's. "Sorry for snapping. But please. I'm starving."

Deacon and his sister’s respective ideas towards mindfulness are diametrically opposed. Whereas Deacon finds his body at its clearest in the middle of a 5k, Thalia is a long-time advocate of stillness. These days, though, he can see the merits that come with a yoga session. It’s like NA, without the talking. Like gym, tennis, or any sports club of which he is a member, without the distractions of attractive men. (It helped further that his sister was among the yoga teachers of this fine establishment, and one does not simply shit where you eat.) Or like running, without the threat of his legs giving out, or the temptation to diverge from his routine at the inevitable sight of the 'Buy two, take one' signage posted on the glass wall of Chilled Creamery. 

So, put simply: he enjoys the whole routine of it all. By the tail-end of the session, a contented smile tugs at the corners of his lips—only for it to fall entirely at the sight of one Madisyn Huang shooting daggers at him in a not-so-flattering position. He doesn’t dignify her whine with a response. From his own downward dog position, Deacon shakes his head and tuts in disapproval. 

When the routine finally wraps up, he says—“That’s not what we’re here for, Madisyn! The whole point is to rid ourselves of all those needs and try to focus on what our mind is telling us.” He replies, assuming Thalia’s cadence that he can best be described as a profound disengagement with the world, and begins rolling back his yoga mat. “Why, are you hungry?”