FIFTEEN

FEMALE

HETEROSEXUAL

STUDENT

Warm reddish brown

Dark brown

173cm/5'6"

Very slim, with long legs and a shorter torso. Small head. All comes together to make her look taller than she really is. A little bit top heavy where others tell her it matters, much to her own annoyance.

People say Ava dresses older than her age. She isn't sure if that's in reference to her large collection of vintage designer clothes, the fact that she consciously tries to look older than she is, or both. Probably both. She's never to be seen without her makeup on or hair done. She doesn't even fully let up in her dorm room or on the running track. Even for these places, there's a self imposed uniform and dress code for Ava to follow.

Image examples: one, two, three, four, five.

NEIGHBORHOOD STORY, MARIKO NAKASU

Just before class, Ava Mc Brearty can commonly be found with a crochet hook in hand, working on a project peeping out of her bag. She's whisper quiet as she does this and the rest of her daily routine, to the extent that some people think she might actually be a ghost. When she does speak up, it's immediately evident to those listening that this is someone unexpectedly superficial, the kind of person who has a million places she'd rather be than in this room talking to you. Still, she doesn't seem too bothered to do anything about it, satisfied to be passive and let the conversation come to a natural close.

A nasty streak runs through her. A green eyed monster who mostly turns its angst inwards, but can be tempted to attack another.

She figures herself as attractive, and wakes up early everyday to ensure so. But it comes from an insecure streak, a constant need to be reassured of her worthiness. She loves, she leaves, and you'll never hear her speak again. There are a slim few she allows to see her real side; the girl with gentle hands and sad eyes, who's vulnerable beneath the steely armour that she's surrounded herself with. Under there is a girl capable of smiling big and wide, even if it is only for photos or in private.

Exercise: Less of a hobby, more of a compulsion. Ava is on the academy's track team, and can be found training with pilates most evenings on top of her mandated practice.

Textile Art & Sewing: A hobby that dates back to her childhood, and evenings spent kneeling at her Nana's feet by the fire, scrap fabric in hand to make clothes for her dolls. Nana taught Ava to knit and crochet and embroider. Nowadays, Ava likes buying secondhand clothes and altering them to suit her style or her shrinking waistline while listening to audiobooks and podcasts after a long day.

Journaling: To record progress, whatever that may be. Beating her own time. New project ideas. Collage spreads. To write down her thoughts. If it's in her head, chances are Ava's recorded it in some way in her trusted notebook, which she keeps under her pillow. During the day, she makes notes on her phone and on scrap paper to fill in her real journal pages at night.

Psychology

Media Studies

Track Team

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N/A

mentions of eating disorders further on in bio -- 

Everybody wants something. A young John Mc Brearty was no different. He was set to inherit the modest Wisteria based construction company founded by his Irish-born father. Once it was in his hands, his father's family values were cast to the wayside in favour of John's big business ambitions. He, like any shark with a taste for blood on its tongue, was successful in his endeavours to chew up the rest of the industry, building himself a monopoly on all things timber and brick within a decade of inheriting the company. He was sly, he was a cheat, and he was brilliant.

Or, so said Jennifer Bosch, then apparent heir to her mother's estate. Within a year of dating, packed with biweekly trips abroad and countless galas spent itching to get out of their expensive clothes, they were married. Their housewarming wasn't too wild. After all, they were only taking over the mansion Jennifer already lived in. "It was so kind of my mother-in-law," John reportedly said to a guest. "She didn't have to retire to her chateau in the Alps for us. I hate to inconvenience her." It wasn't a big deal... and it wasn't like Jennifer could drink anyways. Nine months later, a baby boy's cries echoed day and night around the mansion. Two years after him, a girl followed. Just like that, John's perfect new money nuclear family was set.

In an interview he once said that Ava and her brother were his pride and joy. She wished she could verify that as truth.

In reality, John and Jennifer shirked most of their parental duties onto various nannies and au pairs. During the school holidays, Ava often visited her Nana in the Alps, whose blips of influence throughout her childhood were probably the only thing that stopped Ava from becoming a total cynic by age 10. The best schools and the best opportunities were always offered to her, and Ava went along with all of them, caring for none. The day she received her first trophy at a dance recital, Ava felt absolutely nothing, but to her mother, it was everything. The fleeting attention she received the weekend after a win was enough to keep Ava attending her dance classes and piano rehearsals, even if she couldn't give a damn about the art. But as she got older, regional level wins weren't enough to keep her parents happy. She could have tried harder and stayed in their good graces, but at fourteen years old, Ava was tired of trying. She was tired, and she was so terribly bored.

Like any rich kid, Ava had access to everything she could ever have wanted, not just the things that were good for her. Much too young, she started drinking and dating, weaseling her way between her older brother's friends at every party she followed him to. It embarrassed him. Ava didn't care. At a time in her life where it was hitting her, squarely between the eyes, that she hadn't developed a single personality trait of her own, vices helped replace the hole where that personality should've rightly been. The friends she met at her first high school, a fancy school in the city center, paned with glass all the way round, only encouraged this behaviour. Typically, her friends were older boys, entertained by her naïve indulgency. She didn't mind that too much. She was more aware of what she was doing than they realised. She'd do it all again and again, play the fool every day for their attention. There were girls too, her age and older, who weren't fooled by her. They were terminally jealous. So, they whispered. They spread the foulest rumours they could think of, smiles on their faces behind cupped hands next to ears.

Ava pretended it didn't bother her for months. But something else had already been going on in the background that the rumours only made worse. She was sick, with an illness disguised as a health kick. She had been since her ballet days, though it had been a decidedly more secretive, messier affair back then, in an attempt to mould herself into the kind of girl that deserved solos. Bulimia. Her mother caught her once, and looked at her with unblinking eyes and a wrinkled nose as if she'd found dirt on the floor. Ava told her she'd never do it again, and her mother had been happy to accept that at face value. Easier that way. After she quit ballet, Ava's purging habits gradually shifted until she started purging via exercise. She was addicted to it. She ran, and ran, and ran. Away from her problems, away from the rumours, away from seeing herself in the mirror. She ran until one day she couldn't take it anymore.

"Mom," Ava said, stabbing at her dinner contemptuously one night. "I want to move schools."

"Why? I thought you had..." Her mother paused, trying to find the right word. Those days, her smiles were closer to sneers. Ava didn't really care. "Friends."

Ava wondered if she should tell the truth, about the weight she was carrying around. Her brother swallowed audibly from next to her. She didn't talk to him much either anymore, and for the first time she wondered if he believed everything he heard too. After a long silence, Ava finally said, "Mom, I don't have anything."

Everyone asked what the hell she meant. Ava didn't have an answer. Regardless, it was enough for them to agree to send her away for the remainder of her high school education, and so, Ava ended up at Panacea Academy for her sophomore year. Lost in herself as ever, she at least could find solace in being far away from her parents, from her old friends, and from her old reputation. The trouble is that old habits die hard. Relearning how to be had a steeper learning curve than Ava expected.

sucy

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