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A(IsBack)
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Jan 05, 2016 09:14PM

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уσυ вєттєя кєєρ уσυя нαη∂ѕ 域 му gιяℓ
❧Andie Gayle Jorden ❧Also Known as AJ
Twenty Five ❧ April Ninth ❧Homosexual
❧Brutally Honest ❧Confident ❧Protective❧Flirty❧Conceited

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× Madeline Cordelia Hamilton
× also known as Maddie x
× twenty four
× november 17th
kind × passionate × naive × rebellious × fickle
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Madeline had her hat pulled down low, the shadows hiding her face. Fidgeting, she kept sneaking glances to her left, where one of the local speakeasies were. As the mayor's daughter, she was supposed to do her utmost to uphold the law, but the idea of alcohol was just pure temptation. At age twenty four, old enough to be married, really, she'd never touched a single drop of alcohol except for the one time her father had seated her upon his lap and fed her wine at some social gathering of sorts. She had been ten years old at the time, and she'd only remembered that her father had laughed at her disgusted face, but her girl friends often spoke to her in barely-hidden giggles, telling her about their illicit gatherings at speakeasies.
And now she was about to infiltrate one. Or at least, get in without being recognised. After all, there was no harm in a little fun and life experience, was there? Taking a deep breath, Madeline gathered her courage before stepping into the speakeasy, immediately enveloped by the smell of wood and smoke as well as the hushed chatter around her.


Madeline was glad that her friends had warned her about the password. It would have been so embarrassing if she'd been caught at the door because of such silly, trivial things like a password, and she certainly didn't need the big, burly men outside discovering that she was the Mayor's daughter.
Nervously, she approached one of the bartenders. He looked friendly enough, at least of a slighter build than the rest, and she supposed he'd be nicer to her. Acutely aware of the way her heels were clacking against the floor, she tried to walk slower, but only succeeded in pushing her shoulders further back like her father often told her to, and made her look even stiffer. "Good evening," she finally said when she was close enough to the bartender. "Um, what would you recommend for me to drink?"


"The n-nicer side?" Madeline stammered as she paled at the sound of a hard drink. Whatever it was, it didn't sound very pleasant, and even if she did end up enjoying the drink. "Please?" She added as an afterthought. Did people say 'please' in speakeasies? she wondered to herself. "It's my first," she blurted out in a moment of anxiousness, clamping her lips shut before she could say anything any more embarrassing.
She slid into the seat, resting her elbows on the tabletop as she watched the bartender, crossing her legs and making her skirt hitch up a little. The tip of her shoes tapped nervously against the ground, barely reaching the wooden floorboards at her height.


Madeline couldn't control the flush that took over her face after the bartender leaned far too close to her, but she didn't want the other to see how nervous she was. "My friends told me about this place," she answered bravely, eyes following the bartender's every movement. "They said it was a good place to try some drinks. Because — you know — I haven't had any, ever." She mentally cursed, something that would probably have gotten her in trouble with her father if she'd done so out loud.
"Why do you keep calling me Songbird, anyway?" she blurted out, curiosity getting the better of her. "Do you call all your girl customers that?"
