( SHOWER OF SPARKS )

[AALIYAH MARGARET AUSTERLITZ]

Aaliyah walked down to the beach, cigarette and bottle of tequila in hand. The party was everywhere; on the yachts and every square foot of the hotel. She walked so far down the beach that it all started to fade away. She could feel the bass of the loud music, and she could see the lights flashing over the ocean and on the dance floor; but she was distanced from it. She knew everyone there, yet she knew no one. She should have been back in the party: having fun and sweating on the dance floor, but it wasn't her scene. Her family was hosting the party and she had been at their private hotel for a week now.

Her older siblings could socialize because they were friends with these people, but Aaliyah was not. She knew most of them through family connections, but she would only be starting school with them that year. Besides, watching from afar was far more fun. Aaliyah had always loved parties; huge, loud, sweaty raves were her favorite, not this type of luxurious, stupid event. She wished she could just find a huge rave where no one knew her, where she could just let go of herself as she had done all summer long. She took a long drag on her cigarette and slowly exhaled rings. She then gulped down some tequila.

The beach was mildly windy and it tossed her long blonde waves and her light, chiffon dress danced. She sat down in the sand and placed her shoes and bottle next to her. As she observed the party, all she wanted was to feel relaxed, or outside of her body. She tilted her head back and looked at the stars. She marveled at them in her nearly drunken state, though she was still some what sober. She wished that she had something to make her let loose, alcohol was not enough anymore. She remembered long nights that she spent after a huge party, just looking up at the stars and watching them twinkle, shine, and spin like a kaleidoscope would make them do. "Wow," she murmured to herself.

She stood up and walked to the water. She let the cool liquid run over her feet. She inhaled the salty ocean air along with her cigarette. She looked up again at the moon with her bright green eyes that shimmered with white and silver eyeshadow. She had always dreamed about this bonfire, and what it would be like. Now that she was actually there, she was bored. She was with the same people that she'd been with for her whole life, the only difference was that they were all drunk and acting stupid. She didn't hate the world she belonged to, she just saw it for what it was.

The fifteen year old was tempted to let the ocean fully envelop her body. The ocean would lead her, and she would drift away. She would be just a speck in the deep blue. All of a sudden the volume of the music increased and she could hear it perfectly. She slowly lifted her hands up above her head and began dancing. She closed her eyes and let the water rise to her ankles. There was something nice about just dancing alone with the ocean. The smoke rose from the cigarette over her head and vanished into the thin air. She let the music flow through every vertebrae of her spine and bone in her body. She could feel the energy drip from her finger tips.

Outfit
Alessio

[ALESSIO MONTAGUE]

As a Montague, even the lonely, angsty one, Alessio was well expected to attend the party his long-time family friends were hosting that year. Not only was it sort of an opening to the year that the four predominant old money families took turns hosting year after year, it was also a fun and exciting place to spend some time.. not. He couldn't have despised it much more if he tried. Although he felt obliged to go, that had nothing to do with participating and thus he usually spent the entire party curled up against one of the logs with a bottle of vodka he'd purchased pre-party, preferably Bacardi because that was the good shit, and and his notebook, making casual notes for characters he'd later make up and the report he would inevitably write. Since the local newspaper couldn't get an invite to save their life, and the kids of Santa Croce were their favorite topic, Alessio made some personal money on the side of his own fortune through writing for them about the shit that went down. He had a blog, but they wanted personalized articles and that's where spending some time with a good old fashioned 99 cent notebook went down. But this year things were a little bit different. Rather then a penchant for extracting himself from social situations, he was more drawn towards people, and actually intended on partying for the night. There was little chance he'd end up spending his night alone, that was for sure. Some of the new money chicks were hot this year, and while in the morning he probably wouldn't give two shits about them, for now they were good enough to warm his bed and keep him occupied. Right? Right. He hardly needed anyone else's opinion.

Having stripped off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt partially and tossed his jacket somewhere near the ring of logs that made up the seating arrangements, he was currently laughing and dancing around the bonfire, singing old Italian lullabies at the top of his lungs with whoever would sing along – usually such a crazy thing to do was saved for his slutbag of a younger sister, but at the moment she couldn't be found and he was bored, so why not? Not like everyone else was sober and acting normally around him while he made a fool of himself. Alessio was always, always situationally appropriate. Stopping for a moment, he leaned over to plant a kiss on the girl's lips that he'd been dancing with, some unknown, random girl.. whatever. The first day of the school year meant that he'd be spending a considerable amount of time getting to know the new landscape, if you gather my meaning. Fingers brushing a strand of hair away from her face, he chuckled before struggling to his feet, stripping off his shirt as well and tossing that at her. Wavering a little bit, but still maintaining that swagger that every single Montague managed to walk with, he made his way down to the water line, disappearing well before anyone else could. A walk was in order and he didn't feel like doing it completely clothed; not to mention the apparent lack of discipline that had him leaving priceless clothing on the beach for anyone to take. Not that they would; god knows they could afford it ten times over. Brown eyes falling on a set of tracks leading away from the party, his drunken mind said it would be a good idea to follow them, and that's exactly what he did, feet stepping directly in the same spot as he pursued the ghost of a person who'd doubtlessly been there mere minutes, if not seconds, before him. The steps swayed a little bit in their path, definitely those of a girl judging by their size, and suddenly he wished he'd brought his dorky little notebook anyway, so he could write this shit down in his drunken scrawls. All epiphanies came to him when he was completely trashed, unfortunately. Lips curling into a smirk as the foot prints left off, he brought his eyes level with none other than the youngest Austerlitz, Aaliyah. The host of the party herself seemed to be missing from it, and not to mention, dancing by herself in the tide of some probably disgusting (by daylight, anyway) water that would render her both ill and therefore useless to his advantage, or whatever else. Not that he was planning anything.

Clearing his throat, he signaled with his hand something of a drunken hello and nodded back towards the party. “What, too many people for you?” his words were slurred, but hardly so – he doubted it would be noticeable enough for her to say anything. Alessio, after many consecutive years of downing vodka behind his parent's back, was hardly a lightweight. “Party's that way, Austerlitz.” he stated, blunt as always, smirk presiding over his pretty-boy expression. It wasn't like he didn't know her, although he'd admit to knowing her sister a lot better, and the other family members as well. There was what, twelve of them? Too many for him to know them all on the same level, and besides, Lillian was a babe. There would be nothing in his mind that would deny that fact. Honestly, it seemed like Aaliyah was following her sister's footsteps and adopting a similar babe-y, visually attractive visage. Jerking a thumb to accommodate his pointing-out-the-obvious phrasing, Alessio came a bit closer, stealing her cigarette from her and taking a drag off of it before placing it back between her lips. “They'll kill you, you know.” oh, the irony, he mused, exhaling smoothly, a stream of white smoke coming from beneath perfect, slightly parted lips. Rings were never something he'd bothered to master. Too much effort for something so completely trivial.

to the lefffft.

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[AALIYAH MARGARET AUSTERLITZ]

Aaliyah could feel the tequila going through her blood stream intoxicating her. She loved the buzz more than actually being drunk. She never liked the full on effect of alcohol or drugs, except heroine and ecstacy, those were always an incredible long term high. She loved the initial rush and high that led to a crash, it was the best feeling in the world. Cigarettes gave her some of that rush, but not enough. She could never fall down that rabbit hole in search of the rush though, she wouldn't let herself. But she went through times, like then, when she wanted that surge through her body. Her heart pounded in time with the bass as she slowly danced.She heard a voice behind her that she didn't recognize. She stopped dancing and turned around to find Alessio Montague; she hadn't seen him in a while. Every so often, she'd see him at a family party, a charity event, and such, but they weren't friends. He was two years older than her. She was surprised that she hadn't seen him at any of the parties she'd gone to over the summer. It was hard to remember any particular night. They would be in school together that year though, so she expected that she would be seeing quite a lot more of him.

Apparently he was friends with Lillian, but she never knew what was going on in her sister's life. But of course he was friends with her, why wouldn't he be? She was perfect as far as Aaliyah knew, the golden child. Aaliyah never compared herself to her sister, mostly because they were too different. Aaliyah didn't love attention while Lillian did, Lillian tried to make their parents proud and Aaliyah was fine with them being simply contempt with her, Aaliyah didn't like most people and Lillian was always trying to make friends. Besides the shared blonde hair, they could have been from different families. “what, too many people for you?” He asked her. She took a long drag from her cigarette and exhaled. She could tell that he had been drinking much more than her. She had been at parties much larger than this one. It wasn't the size that drove her away, just the quality. She didn't say anything and then he spoke again. “party's that way, Austerlitz.” He seemed more like his normal self now. Again, she didn't say anything in return. She didn't like speaking very much. It seemed like such a trivial part of life. Why was it necessary to ever have to explain oneself? Wasn't it enough to just think it? There were other means of expression besides talking. She walked out of the water and her feet hit the soft, grainy sand. She simply took another drag and looked him over from head to feet. He was shirtless, showing off his toned upper body. She got the idea that he liked walking around shirtless, he probably thought it made girls swoon. The blonde also received the vibe that he thought he was better than everyone else, even though he acted the same way as them. She hated that mentality. Everyone in their world thought they were better than the rest, just because their socio-economic status was higher than the rest of the human popoulation.

After no repliance, he moved closer to her and took the cigarette from her hand. He took a drag and nearly blew the smoke into her face. He then placed the cigarette back between her full pink lips. She lifted a delicate hand to remove the cigarette and exhaled a single ring in his face. "Then I guess we'll both die." She told him, a smile appearing on her face. She wasn't afraid of death. In fact, she was always curious what it would be like to die. She always wondered if there was actually a heaven and a hell. If there was, she'd be going straight to hell. She hoped there was only a heaven. She gave the cigarette back to him, she no longer wanted it. She spotted a tattoo on his right arm and wondered about. She wanted to ask him what it meant, but then decided against it. She had always wanted a tattoo above her hip, but she had never gotten around to actually getting one. She liked the idea of adding something meaningful to her body.

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[ALESSIO MONTAGUE]

To say the view he had at the moment was stunning and surreal would probably be the understatement of more than just the century. Maybe the entire millennium. Blue, captivating light was dancing off of the water, shining up and smacking him in the face, the moon was full and round in the sky and nearly every peak of the sand dunes was illuminated by the shining stars, the reflection evident in the various shells and specks of sea glass scattered around on the ground. It was beautiful, breathtaking, all-consuming. Alessio would probably have ended up laying on the sand and falling asleep to the sound of the tide going out if he hadn't run into the littlest Austerlitz, if she hadn't intrigued him with her dismissive, frustrating personality. He had difficulty leaving people alone once they caught a shard of his interest, and in this case that was probably not a good thing. Shoving a hand through his hair, he smirked down at her, eyes flickering between the two of hers. He had trouble holding someone's gaze with both eyes at the same time, so it was usually a fight to see which side would end up catching and holding his interest. Unfortunately when he was intoxicated, he found both sides as interesting and thus the battle was little closer, the switching of his gaze a little more frequent. She'd get over it. Finally managing to spit out a retort to her blowing the smoke into his face, he smirked and spit out the only thing that came to mind; “Didn't they teach you how to behave like a lady in charm school?” he murmured, something like a raspy sort of seductive tone in his voice, taunting, teasing. He was always like that – subtracting from the alternate ego and simultaneously purring like puss in boots. Alessio had a talent for that.

Sitting down on the sand, toes digging into the earth, the bottoms of his pants covered in it. He didn't care – those would probably be hitting the burn pile later that evening as well. Although his clothes usually stuck with him through a period of time, at the moment he was more than inclined to disregard any attachment he may have had with them and toss them on the first indication they were getting old. Disregarding the cigarette she was trying to give to him, he refused to take it, instead staring as the cherry burned into the night air, his own system slowly clogging with the massive amounts of alcohol he'd consumed and various other things that would ultimately lead to an untimely and painful death, if he kept them up. Alcoholism doubtlessly ran in his family and he was heading straight for it, what with his penchant for drinking whenever he was bored. Such a tolerance had built up that puking was practically unheard of – he drank so much that sometimes he forgot when he started. Or if he started. Shots, vodka, whatever else he could get his hands on... it was all fair game. It all helped him pour out his thoughts with such a blunt, painful expression. Not only that, but it also managed to aid him in his ultimate quest for the perfect story, the majority of which ended up in the shit can before he could even get through a page. What he needed was a plot, and he didn't have one. His style of writing was better defined by plotless-ness. Generally a lack of said interest kept him ranting about nothing to a blank screen, and thus he was rendered museless, which in turn led to blank pages in word processor and an overflow of homework that he neglected to do. Sometimes, the moody boy would stay in his room for days on end, refusing to eat, just sitting at the computer and trying to type something out that didn't suck ass. Those days were the worst. The very, very worst.

“I'm not dying. I'm fucking immortal.” he stated, blunt as always. In his mind, there wasn't really much that could do him damage, apart from maybe, you know. Silver bullets. That sort of thing. She was weird, so much more odd then anyone else he knew at the academy, and yet so completely enigmatic that a part of him just wanted to sit there and wait for her to say something of value. It may or may not have been something good and revealing, but he didn't care – there was nothing else to do anyway and he was drunk out of his mind, not to mention completely entranced by the dark side of the moon, so to speak, even if he didn't plan on telling her that. There was just something. Good girl gone bad. Poor little rich girl. Broken china doll. All of those applied and probably a bunch more cliches that he couldn't even think of at the moment, his brain was so clouded over with vodka and the stars shining above his head, the tides and the rippling pools forming just a couple of feet away from his feet. Some part of him wished he'd taken the cigarette, but he wasn't about to take her sloppy seconds. Frankly, he didn't smoke. Or at least, not usually. Only when he was particularly bored or in a social setting that called for punctuation by flaming cancer stick. “Feel free to go ahead and drown, if you so desire.”

to the lefffft.

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[AALIYAH MARGARET AUSTERLITZ]

Aaliyah knew that somehow, someway she had intrigued him. He was, after all, still there. Most people were. She rarely spoke, and that made people curious. They wondered why; they wondered what she thought about; and that was why they stayed. They waited for her to do something extreme, crazy, or even to tell them what she was thinking. The ones that left were the ones that interested her. She went after those who left. She had a warped approach to people. The people that she was supposed to hate, she loved. The people who she was supposed to love, she hated. Sometimes she felt hollow inside, like if someone knocked on her, they would hear an echo. She wondered if she felt anything anymore. She never felt pain, or butterflies in her stomach, or fear anymore. She just wandered aimlessly, searching for something to make her feel. She looked into his dark eyes and she wondered if he could see through her. It was clear that he found the moon more interesting than her, which she completely understood because she normally felt the same. He was interesting her, he was turning away from her. She closed her eyes and let the light wind cover her body. She opened her eyes and expected to see something different, but she didn't, she only saw the beach going on for miles. The smoke she'd blown in his face had faded and he rejected the cigarette she'd offered to him. She didn't say anything in reply to his retort, it was as if she hadn't even heard it, which was partially true. Many insignificant things that people said went in one ear and out the other. She listened when it was important. She took a final drag and blew the smoke up at the sky. She watched as it curled and slowly left her, like all eventually did.

He moved away from her and sat down on the sand, she didn't join him though. The young girl simply stood there in the light of the moon. She was tempted to lift her dress over her head and just go into the ocean. She wanted to feel the cold water pricking her skin and making her weightless. But she simply stood there, the current increasing and the water gliding over her bare feet. She crossed her small arms and wondered what everyone around her was feeling. She turned around and looked at him when he spoke. "im not dying. I'm fucking immortal.” She took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, feeling the air travel to her lungs and back again. She tilted her head and uncrossed her arms and watched as the dark side of the moon enchanted him. Don't you ever want to die though? To stop breathing and thinking, and just close your eyes and be done with it while everyone moves around you? She asked him curiously. She believed that life was all about waiting for death. People spent their entire lives waiting for death to save them from living another day and taking another breath.

She turned back to the ocean and stared. When he spoke again from behind her, this time it was like he was inside her head. “Feel free to go ahead and drown, if you so desire.” It took her a minute to completely understand him. If she could die anyway possible, she would choose drowning, but she wasn't ready to die yet. "Wouldn't it be lovely? You hold your breath, like you're playing a game, and then you close your eyes and just wait. You let the water invade you and work it's way through every hair on your head." She smiled and opened her eyes to see the ocean still there, waiting for her. "You're suspended in time and everything stops, but moves faster. Eventually you sink to the dark bottom, and no one ever finds you. You become part of the ocean." When she was ready to die, the ocean would call for her. She never understood the tragedy of young death. If anything, dying young was better than dying old. Dying young, you die happy. You die without knowing all the shit that the world is ready to throw at you. You die not missing anyone. She would rather die young then die old.

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[ALESSIO MONTAGUE]

She was just... weird. The small bit of intrigue that had momentarily floated over him was in hiding at the moment, his brain just actively trying to decipher whatever sort of mental issues she may have had that made her turn out that way. She was dreamy, off in another land. Not at all like the other two Austerlitz sisters he knew of, and did he know of them. Their mother adored him, so it wasn't like he couldn't merely waltz in and hang out if he so chose. He just usually didn't. Being alone was preferential to him then spending his time around other people, mostly because those people would either annoy or piss him off, and he wasn't prone to those behaviors... when he was by himself. Alone, the quiet consumed him and he could think. Alone, he didn't have to worry about appearances. Alone, his brain didn't have to work over time to come up with a series of smart-ass responses that no one cared about or probably even took to heart. Sometimes he wondered if his life was a wasted effort, seeing as he was going to die just like everyone else anyway. But then he realized he was more than likely going out with a bang – that time in Madrid when he'd had his palms read had told him so. And he, strangely enough, believed in that shit. Apart from making fun of idiots and taking his life as a sport, the boy didn't do much. Maybe wrestling now and again to make himself less... angsty. Brooding. It was frustrating to be those things, and he'd rather be full of himself and annoying. And thinking of Alessio and only Alessio for the rest of his undoubtedly short, extremely eventful life. Maybe he'd join the twenty seven club. Who knew? Who cared, may have been the better question for the situation. Eyes flickering back to the girl, he tilted his head slightly to the side and watched as she seemed to sway in the wind, the earth moving around her like she was perfectly in synch with it. To be honest, he wanted whatever it was she'd decided to grace her body with earlier in the evening. And if she was just naturally like that, maybe he should stick around more and gather some general information so that euphoric, everything-is-lovely feeling would rub off.

Well, that was how he felt until she started going on about how lovely it would be to die. Much like all the other times he's spit out something completely rude and mean, he couldn't stop himself before it was slipping from between his lips, unwanted commentary on something that shouldn't be played with, and he knew it. But he was drunk – didn't that count as an excuse, if he ever needed one? Not to mention that one summer in St. Tropez where his ignorant buffoon of a mother had made him take a lifeguard course, just in case god didn't come to save them all like she expected. “No one's stopping you,” he murmured, resisting the urge to clap a hand over his mouth and giggle childishly at his own joke. It seemed like the booze had kicked in almost all at once, and it wouldn't be long before he'd probably be sprawled out on the sand, his fingers in a pile of god knows what and a string of drool leaking out of the corner of his perfect, rosy lips. Alessio was handsome, yes, but his behavior took away from that, as well as his tendency to over drink. It wasn't glamorous in the morning, but it sure as hell was fun until then. Theoretically, anyway, he would be forced to go get her by both morality and a simple reputation that he had to uphold with her mother... he couldn't just let her drown right in front of him. That would be sick. Watching her suffocate under pounds of water pressure. Ew. He'd have to take a rain check on that one. “Nah,” he stated, sounding a bit out of his usual personality and he was, for the most part. His mind was swirling now with the makings of a story, and he probably needed her to keep going with something, anything. “Let's go swimming,” even though it was probably not the best idea, considering what she'd just said. But hey, if she tried to drown he'd just drag her back up. Couldn't be that hard, right?

Removing the belt from the waist of his pants, Alessio pulled it halfway out and then stopped, eyes pausing on the girl to see if she would, indeed be coming with him. “What's your name again, Austerlitz?' he questioned, smirk in pace despite his drunken state. “The baby,” he knew that. The youngest one. But still, she was only two years younger then he was.

to the lefffft.

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[AALIYAH MARGARET AUSTERLITZ]

Aaliyah ran her hands through her long wavy blonde hair. One of her friends always used to joke about how she had hair worth a million dollars; the natural honey blonde color along with the cascading light waves. Lillian had it too, and so did Brigitte, except Brigitte's hair was lighter. That was probably the only way Aaliyah was at all similar to her two sisters. She turned around and looked back at the party. Everyone was blissfully happy with their alcoholic beverages, dancing to the beat. They were all so wonderfully accepting of the world they had been born into. Aaliyah never had that privilege. She was always different in an odd way. Everyone always accused her of craving attention. They thought that was why she rarely spoke, and when she did, it was usually something confusing. She wished she could be simple. The girl wanted so badly to scream and ask why. She could see his brain working, analyzing himself. A sort of wall was built between them. Her in dream land, him contemplating various things that she was not privy to. If there was a dream land, it would always be a combination of sun and night; good and bad; right and wrong. She imagined that there was no real hell or heaven, you just created your own place where you were happy. Would she ever truly be happy though?

Much further down on the beach she spotted her younger sister wobbling with the influence of alcohol. She had so much left to learn. Not that Aaliyah was one to talk, she was one year older, and in a whole other world. There was always a wall between them, one that nothing of any sorts could break down. But Aaliyah knew where the hole in the wall was. She knew more then Brigitte would have preferred. She turned her attention back to Alessio when she heard a murmur. She didn't catch it, but it didn't particularly bother her. Somehow, as if he had been reading her mind before, he suggested that they go swimming. She had no hesitation, but she wondered what his intentions were. She quickly forgot about that as she saw he began taking off his pants. They were, after all the only thing left. He called her what many called her. She was considered the Austerlitz baby, even though her younger sister was actually the youngest, people tended to forget about her. She was practically a carbon copy of Lillian. Aaliyah never thought too much about what people said about her. Most of the time, it was because she didn't hear it. She lifted her dress over her head revealing a strapless black bra and lace underwear. Her body was tan from many hours of the summer sun. She had never actually thought about her body in any way.

When she was younger, she was always the tallest in all her classes but she was never made fun of for it. There was an Austerlitz gene for tallness, and thinness. The three girls were all similar. Blonde, blue eyes (green in Aaliyah's case), tall, legs for days, and perfectly thin. Lillian was a little heaver, but Aaliyah and Brigitte had practically the same body, with a few curves here and there in Aaliyah's case. It was fortunate that the two girls had extremely different styles, or else there would have been problems with borrowing. However, Aaliyah had noticed Brigitte getting thinner, she wasn't completely in a different world, only sometimes. She was not as stupid or clueless as she seemed. Actually, no one ever thought she was stupid. They knew how smart she was, they were all simply distracted by her spaciness. It was sort of like Alessio. She could tell that he was smart, maybe even brilliant. Everyone just overlooked it because of his reputation. He was always seen with his note book. She wondered what he wrote about.

Aaliyah walked into the water until knee level then she swam out further to where her long legs touched the ocean floor. There, she floated on her back, staring up at the stars. Some stars shone brighter than others. It was a fight for attention, for only so many stars could catch one person's attention. "Have you ever noticed how the sky is like our world? So many stars, one moon. They all fight for attention. They all want to shine, but only some of them do." It was like the unspoken fight Brigitte had with her. Aaliyah never liked the attention, but somehow, it was usually on her. Whether it was boys chasing after her, or people gossiping about her partying. She spoke airily, not a care in the world. And then she snapped out of her daze and began treading water, waiting for him to catch up to her.