You do have a bit of a chin.
There is a blonde girl in Chicago.
Okay, technically, there is a blonde girl getting dumped out of the cab of a semi-truck, and a bag being tossed out after her.
"Fine! You be that way, you common little burk!" she shouts as the semi drives off. "See if I ever... oh, bugger it, he's already gone."
It's something she really deserves, having driven the poor man half mad with her annoying prattling.
Shut up!
She also talks to the voices in her head. Or, well, voice. That would be me. And technically it's my head, but I don't get a say in anything to do with my body anymore.
"She has to be a bloody narrator?" the blonde grumbles to herself. Looks around. Oh, a hotel - she could... well, see if she could talk her way into a room for the night. She's good at that. Really. Except where she's not.
She gives my body in her look a bit of a once over in a window, sighing. "No matter how hard I try," she says, "I can't get you to look less like a chav." Oi, I am not a chav! "Keep telling yourself that," she mutters under her breath, plasters on a smile, and walks into the lobby.
Chicago, residents of the Conrad... meet Cassandra O'Brien.
Oh, and me. Rose.
Okay, technically, there is a blonde girl getting dumped out of the cab of a semi-truck, and a bag being tossed out after her.
"Fine! You be that way, you common little burk!" she shouts as the semi drives off. "See if I ever... oh, bugger it, he's already gone."
It's something she really deserves, having driven the poor man half mad with her annoying prattling.
Shut up!
She also talks to the voices in her head. Or, well, voice. That would be me. And technically it's my head, but I don't get a say in anything to do with my body anymore.
"She has to be a bloody narrator?" the blonde grumbles to herself. Looks around. Oh, a hotel - she could... well, see if she could talk her way into a room for the night. She's good at that. Really. Except where she's not.
She gives my body in her look a bit of a once over in a window, sighing. "No matter how hard I try," she says, "I can't get you to look less like a chav." Oi, I am not a chav! "Keep telling yourself that," she mutters under her breath, plasters on a smile, and walks into the lobby.
Chicago, residents of the Conrad... meet Cassandra O'Brien.
Oh, and me. Rose.