BARRETT, Carly Marie

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...basics*

name...

[/b][/size] Carly Barrett.
nickname...[/b][/size] Carl, Carls, what else could you with Carly?
age...[/b][/size] Recently turned 18.
gender...[/b][/size] Female.
grade...[/b][/size] Baum Academy Senior.
occupation...[/b][/size] She doesn't need one.
hometown...[/b][/size] Beverly Hills, California.
sexuality...[/b][/size] Heterosexual.
personification...[/b][/size] Curly.
status...[/b][/size] Dormant.
face claim...[/b][/size] Holland Roden.[/blockquote]

...appearance*

physical...

[/b][/size] You're beautiful. Maybe you don't know it, but you really are. You try to cover up your body with cute clothes to distract from it, and paint your face with makeup, but it's not necessary. Your figure is just fine, and there are boys that think so. Your face is quite pretty, too, even with a natural look. You have hazel eyes and soft red hair and fair skin that complement each other well. You always keep your head high and your posture perfect and walk with pride, even if that crippling image image still haunts you.

Because when you look in the mirror, you see every imperfection. Every ugly-ginger hair out of place gets fixed, but still looks like a mess. Your makeup is smeared in at least six different places and the powder is quite obvious. Your clothes don't sit on you right and your boobs look too small and your stomach looks too big, and you never look at your thighs because you know they're enormous and you never have a chance at that thigh gap that's so popular. Your stance makes you seem too confident, so you slouch, but that's not flattering, either. And you fix all of these flaws as you leave every morning and every passing time throughout the day, but it doesn't help. Nothing will make you look the way you should and you know that. And you hate it, and you hate yourself, and the only reason you still have that mirror in one piece is because you're superstitious and if you don't acheive the highest level of perfection you can (which is much too low for anyone's standards), you'd fall back into that same position you were in five years ago.

clothing style...[/b][/size] Your closet is the same as every rich girl's. Only the latest styles grace its presence, and you only wear matching colors and things that slim you and flatter you the most. You shop from boutiques in the mall and out of it, and the credit card your daddy gave you is used for only that purpose, and occasionally for buying weight loss ideas when you decide you want to eat and keep it down. You try to look nice on a daily basis, so it's skirts and dresses most days of the week, which is helpful during volleyball season, and maybe one day you'll wear jeans and a nice shirt and high heels, just to tone it down and go casual. You think that maybe if you have nice clothes, people will notice that instead of your flaws. You have a lot of makeup that fills your precious vanity drawers, and you don't leave the room without that.

You've even gotten yourself into the ideal that you can't be imperfect in front of your roommate, so even your pajamas are pleasing to the eye and you brush your hair and wash your makeup off (a pimple would ruin you) but sput a mask on and lip gloss. Just to protect against chapping because the air conditioning is always going, you say. That's all.

defining traits...[/b][/size] You think other people don't notice. Hell, you don't hardly notice, but you tend to compulsively fix your hair and makeup and clothing. It's like biting nails - a habit.[/blockquote]

...personal info*

personality...

[/b][/size] You're just the sweetest little thing there ever was, aren't you? You're quite popular amongst the masses for being sweet and kind to just about anyone that crosses your path. You are never the one to cut a conversation short because something takes precedence, you finish out that conversation until the other person needs to go somewhere. Sometimes you're considered Baum Academy's sweetheart and currently it's most eligible bachelorette. You love attention and you get it honorably, and people love you. You try not to argue with anybody but immediately compromise or sacrifice something in order to satisfy the other person. You are just too good, aren't you?

The only sport you play is volleyball, because it's indoors and the outdoors is no place for a lady to be, and you are a lady. You eat healthy food because that's what you should eat and you look proper eating it. You use proper manners and kindly correct people when they don't.

That pretty little smile you plaster on your face until someone tells you something sad, that confident-but-humble air you carry with you constantly, the way you never seem to falter, the way you hide out if you ever do stumble... those are how people see you. They think you're perfect because that's just the way you want it. You want people to love you, and envy is just a necessary
side effect. You paint a picture of yourself in the public eye and you hide everything else behind the canvas, like a safe hidden behind a work of art.

Because your personality has been around since you were about eight and you saw Wicked for the first time on Broadway. You always admired her the most out of anyone, even if she was fictional, and so you modeled yourself after her, especially after middle school. But she's not who you are, not at all.

You want to call people out for being stupid assholes, with big colorful word that you didn't make up yourself. You only truly like a few of the people you insist are your friends - you don't like the ones who put themselves above everyone else because you see that in yourself. Some conversations bore the hell out of you and you want to just tell the person to shut up, no one cares, and walk away, because people did that to you. You think official boyfriends are needy and annoying so you don't plan on having one again unless you need one. You get attention by pretending to be all of these things and by making yourself a bigger deal than you are because you want to be a big deal, because if you aren't a big deal, you're useless. And you never want to feel useless again. You want to argue with someone's stupid opinion but that would ruin the illusion.

You love the outdoors but you don't want to seem like a tomboy. All you want to do sometimes is storm into McDonald's and order a quarter pounder with cheese and chomp it all up in as little bites as possible, elbows on the table because you're so, so tired of using manners.

You want to frown and scowl. You want to scream to the world that you're awful and horrible and you have no idea why everyone loves you so much, why can't they see through it? You want to break the illusion, to show off your imperfections. Your body knows that this is not the real you, almost as if it wants you to fail.

Because when you do have those times where you slip, you can't handle it. You'll pretend you're sick, and you really are sick, and stay in your dorm and cover the mirrors and stay in bed until you feel like everyone's forgotten and then you unveil your lifeline and put you makeup on and fix your hair and pick out a super-cue outfit for your return. Because even though you want to do all those things, you can't because people will judge you. Everyone will hate you again. And then you'll eat to get over it and become fat and then everyone will hate you even more, and you would never be able to handle that because that would be just like eigth grade.

You cannot do those things because you are Carly Barrett, and your motto is "grin and bear it."

life until now...[/b][/size]
Before you were born, your parents lived a good life. Nathan Barrett was already a successful actor who was transistioning behind the scenes, to things like directing and writing. Your mother was originally just a business affair - she wrote film scores and designed costumes. They were a match made in movie heaven, even if at first it wasn't real. They fell in real-love and had a big wedding and eventually, Jillian Freeman was pregnant.

Jillian wasn't quite prepared for something like this - she was almost a decade younger than Nathan and had been blinded by love. So when the stress of pregancy hit her, she became vile and cruel and was almost never happy. Nathan dealt with it but eventually cracked and said he wished they hadn't gotten pregnant so quickly and always felt that way from there on out. Jillian was crushed and was basically silent until you were born.

They were on the brink of divorce before you came along. Both of them were against the split-second Hollywood marriage ideal, but the stress was too much. But you with your patch of red hair and your smile made it all better, so they decided to try for a while just to see. You did the trick, it seemed, for they stayed together and took a break from the movie industry for a few years.

You could say that you never met expectations, and perhaps because they were too high. You didn't walk or talk as quickly as they wanted you to, and you weren't growing at the optimal rate, and you cried and misbehaved more than you should have. But then eventually realized after years of scolding you that they were being too harsh, and so they lowered their expectations. You didn't, though.

You were often on the sets of movies when you were younger since your father and mother refused to let you stay with some nanny. And since Jillian was the Danny Elfman to Nathan's Tim Burton, they were both there and visited you when you could. But otherwise, you stayed out of trouble and often played with the other kids on set.

You were never interested in film acting yourself - what you really loved were those times when your parents would take you to the theatre, since that's where Nathan got started. You would sit in your seat, mesmorized without a word, and watch. Musicals were your favorite and so when you went to elementary school and they put on those cute little plays, you were all for them and probably the music teacher's favorite.

That is, until the fifth grade, your last year of elementary school, when some girl who was jealous of you getting the biggest part called you fat.

To be honest, you were a bit of a chubby kid, but nowhere near as big as some of the others. But you were a bit of a diva and these were all children of rich parents, and so they joined the girl in sneering. They started calling you names, and one stuck. Miss Piggy, like the Muppet. She was your favorite and if they hadn't explained why they called you so, you probably wouldn't have been offended.

But when you told your parents in a flurry of tears, they told you that you have to suck it up and press on if you wanted to be in musicals when you grew up because people would be like that. It wasn't meant to be as mean as it sounded, but you took it to heart and pressed on and vowed to never hear those words again, to just tune them out.

You were fine until middle school rolled around, and then it got much, much worse. It seemed that the changes everyone was going through without you made them vicious, because you were still a bit chubby and a bit of a diva. A few people knew who your parents were and were nice, and a few people knew who your parents were and were mean. But the point was that you weren't that pretty little image of Hollywood perfection, and you knew it.

(trigger warning: suicide)

So you took the route the other girls did. You stopped eating. When you did eat, you threw it all back up. You lost a few pounds and you felt a little better, and people started to let up until they found out. You were almost famous, after all. And when they found out, they called you different names. Attention whore was you absolute favorite.

You had no friends. Everyone hated you, and those who don't, you never trusted and pushed them away. Because you weren't sure why they didn't hate you.

Of course, most of this was in your head. Your head constructed your reality and reality didn't prove your head wrong. By eigth grade, it broke you. You were shattered, and because of that, you had to shatter something yourself.

Instead of other people, who you know in your heart didn't deserve it, you went into the bathroom and shattered the mirror when you didn't like what was staring back at you. You took the biggest piece you could find and gripped it tight in your hand, feeling it cut open and bleed, and you then you took it to one of your wrists, and you would have gotten the other had a teacher not ran it at that point to see what the commotion was about.

You woke up in a hospital, alive and well, with your parents insisting that reporters stay out of your room. You needed to recover before you could answer any questions. Funny, you didn't know you were the subject of any questions by reporters. And then you fell back asleep, because you were very, very tired.

The next day you saw the headline that read "Daughter Of The King And Queen Of Film Not Treated Like A Princess?" That one was about your mom and dad working too much and not properly taking care of you. That was the only one, but as you were asked questions that you answered because you were too tired to argue, there started being headlines like "Barrett Girl Not Grinning Now" and "It Effects Everyone - Daughter Of Barrett & Freeman Goes Over The Edge". It made you sick that reporters would leech off you and it almost made you feel worse.

Until, of course, you found out you had fans. It made national news, if only as an aritcle in some rag magazine, but people had read your story and supported you. It lifted you up and was partially the reason your parents allowed you to return to school and they to work.

You eventually asked if you could go to school somewhere different, though. The other kids there started treating you like a princess and you knew it was complete and utter bullshit. So they sent you off to a private boarding school in New York City called Baum Academy.

the present...[/b][/size] Baum Academy is your favorite school by far. It's nice, you got away from your old life and schoolmates, and you're in New York City. You've always loved going to see shows on Broadway when your parents' work took them to the Big Apple for months at a time. You miss the sun and the celebrities (you did live in Beverly Hills after all), but New York is disgustingly beautiful and you can appreciate that. You have a twitter account that's verified and an alright amount of followers. You don't want to be super famous, after all. You play volleyball and it's helped you get completely in-shape without being sickly.

But that's mostly because you don't want anyone to see you fall ever again. You don't want pity from your friends, you want friendship. You want to be as normal as possible, even though some students know your name well, but mostly you want to be a role model. You act confident and make sure nobody that can tell the tale see you fall. Because you want to show everybody that you've healed, even if you haven't gotten there quite yet.

other notes...[/b][/size] Carly's not exactly famous. She's pretty much forgotten about and only ever shows up in the news when one of her parents' movies premiere and she gets to go. But she does vlog and encourages others to be confident in themselves, in who they are. Which is complete and utter bullshit, but so is Carly's whole personality. So.
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...literature*

title... Peter Pan
backstory... curly's loveable but dumb, shy but kind. he wants to be funny but isn't. he has five bros (well four if you count the twins as one because they go together) and loves them and grows up to be an office worker and pretty much i can't find anything else about him have a nice day. oh and p.s. he's a lost boy

...the roleplayer*

tell us about you...

[/b][/size] i'm hedgie you twit [/blockquote]

...writing*

writing sample/freestyle...

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"She's my cousin, on my dad's side. We were friends at parties when we were kids, I guess, but she's one of those popular snobs now and we haven't talked in a while. So yeah, I'd probably stand up for her if some little shit decided to pick on her, but it's not like we braid each other's hair."

"Of course I know Carly Barrett. We're friends! She's seems a little classic rich-girl, but she's great if you get to know her. Promise. You should try to befriend her, she's sweet! Now can I go back to eating my frozen yogurt? If I talk too much I'll get brainfreeze and that would just be awk- ow, dammit IT'S NOT EVEN HURTING IT'S JUST.. WEIRD GAH."

"Oh, wow. Uh. Carly. We dated... freshman year? Like for a month. She broke it off, said I wasn't 'invested enough'. I really wasn't and I felt bad about it. We don't talk that much anymore alone, but I'd still consider her a friend if we were in a big social group."

"Um... excuse me? Asking me if I know who Carly Barrett is is like asking me if I know who Kylie Jenner is, or someone like that. She's only my style idol and I about freaked when I found out she went to Baum which is partially why I picked Baum and UGH, she's just so perfeect and confident. How can anyone be so perfect and confident? It's just crazy."

"Yeah, I totally had a crush on her for a while before I found out she was straight. Oh. But really, she's beautiful. Look at her. It's insane."

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