Truth in Beauty (SL) [Brittie]

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A world of pastel yellows, oranges, and reds greeted Ritsuko upon her exit from Shimaki Clean & Press, exiting into a bustling sidewalk. No doubt everyone trying to get home. They had family to take care of, chores to accomplish, plans made... she hadn't had any of that. For now, Ritsuko was finally free. She could do anything from here, anything she wanted and no one could say any different. She'd feel a sort of existential comfort as she moved to join the throngs of people on their busy way. The crowd didn't care who she was and she didn't care about the crowd. Free from judgement and obligation, even though it was an empty feeling. Here she was no one and nothing mattered unless she allowed it to. Ritsuko wouldn't have it any other way.

A familiar feeling ate at her in the back of her mind. She wanted to play. Not she, rather, Aoide wanted to be played. It was true she hadn't touched the strings all day and Aoide was rather selfish about that. Ritz had become accustomed to speaking to her guitar through emotions, feelings, and desires, and could easily parse out when she wanted something because she actually wanted it and when her Muse was urging her. Hefting her guitar over her shoulder, Ritsuko would untuck her dress shirt and allow her wild hair to fall free from its hair tie.
"Haa..." she would sigh. The little things were nagging at her. Her stomach sat uncomfortably with hunger pangs, but she couldn't afford to eat until the evening. Fast food got expensive after a while, and if she could work out a deal with a cafe or restaurant for some free eats in exchange for tunes so much the better. Best if a little money floated her way. Then she'd need to find out how she was going to spend the night. She'd be playing her guitar, of course, but where? Maybe she'd take the plunge and look for a side-gig for a group out of the concert hall? Or perhaps she'd hit the bar circuit again in Little Tokyo. As long as she stayed away from Salamander's for a while. Kano probably didn't appreciate the choice words she'd had for him. But she'd have until sunset to figure that out.

Ritsuko had taken up real estate on a bench closest to the bank on the corner, if nothing else than because it had a SmokeStop near it. She looked slightly out of place in her white, un-tucked dress shirt, a few buttons undone and sleeves rolled, with black slacks and dress shoes, but she didn't care. Right now was "me" time, away from demanding customers and childish high-schoolers. It'd be nice to take some time to reflect, to digest how she was feeling and what she'd need to do. And if she didn't feel like doing that Ritz had the perfect view of the SMILE Studio, propaganda in all its glory. To be honest, she didn't really care about the news, but picking apart the weaknesses in journalism and spotting biased wordplay gave her a petty sense of vindication. Sometimes you just wanted to watch a train wreck and eat some popcorn, y'know? Carefully she unpacked her guitar and draped Aoide over herself by the strap, bringing a cigarette to light and throwing on her CraniumCandy headphones. Ritz would plug in her audio jack and run her calloused fingers over the strings, a light pluck for the citygoers in the streets, but an entire universe of emotion within her own head.

A Soulful Tune:

And as she drew her thumb and forefinger to bring chords to bear would she mutter the words under her breath. And as she spoke the music, Music would speak to her...

...you will not share?

Share what?

You will not share our beautiful agony with those who cannot understand? You will not bring tears to the eyes of men in a language they understand deep within their hearts, but may never comprehend?

...they don't wanna listen to us, Aoide.

You are not the soul to give heed to the desires of others. Perhaps it is yourself that wills not to share?

You know just as well as I do that a symphony to the unwilling ear is just noise. It's nothing but a waste of time.

You have time to waste, do you not?

...maybe in a little bit. We're not exactly 'approved' to play here, some of these nosy bastards might file a noise complaint and I'll get fined. Besides, I'm trying to chill out for a few minutes. I need some time alone.

...let me be selfish for a while, Aoide. Let me revel in glorious splendor the world cannot take from me and could never understand.

Fully entranced, Ritsuko would take a moment during a long chord to flick her ashes and fill her lungs with comfort.

Posts : 992 Join date : 2015-10-07

Work had been nothing but tiresome for her, but gladly the photoshoot session for today's afternoon had come to an end. As the sun began its customary way downwards to set the night, the landscape assumed a rather melancholic state to it that Brittany simply didn't enjoy much. Her cheerful disposition was an exact contrast to how the day was about to end, like a sour drop to her sweet mood, the lonely walking back home made it slightly worse than usual. Night time could be rich with life as well, but if the girl had to choose, everyday would be an endless morning of light sunbeams illuminating everywhere.

To cheer up, she decided to stop by a regular snack stand to buy something to bring home or eat along the way. Of course she shouldn't, giving her career, but she was feeling quite hungry. The whole day was based in annoying ups and downs and if there's one thing Brittany simply loved to do to placate any frustrations in her heart, it was eating. Emotional eating, as psychologists name it, the ability of lashing out your emotions into compulsive eating. Add that to the starving state of a model and there you have some developed degree of gluttony. Today's forbidden pleasure was not a vegan cookie, but something way heavier: hot dog. The simplicity of buying it from a regular street stand is priceless, the kind of flavor you don't get in a gourmet specialized restaurant and this is a preference that hasn't changed since the old, childhood days. Just like street artists, each one with their respective stories and tales to tell, sometimes as a scene play, sometimes as a song. Perhaps was this interest that led the girl to watch, perhaps a bit more intense than her eyes should convey, one single girl playing a rather aggressive tune in her guitar while Brittany delighted herself with her meal, watching in utmost silence. The stranger didn't seem to mind her presence, though. As a matter of fact, she didn't seem to mind anyone's presence, and that was cool. Maybe being absorbed in her own volition helped her to play better than if she was doing it to please an unexpected audience. On the other hand, if that's exactly what she aimed for, then she could be proud, because she at least scored a pair of hazel eyes entertained enough for that afternoon.

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"...breathe hiiiiiiiigheeeeeer...for meeeee..."

Ritsuko would mumble the words under her breath to keep track of her own personal concert. Guitar alone didn't do it justice, the entire song in itself was a concert. The vocals were powerful and soulful, the drums like a vicious heartbeat, the base like the tension of the mind. To her, it was a song she wanted to belt out from the rooftops to the waiting city below. Through her music they would feel her spirit, the melancholy gripping their core as she preached her agonizing gospel, and everyone would understand on a deeper, emotional level her struggle. It was sorrowful, it was angry, overbearing.... but it was hopeful. Strong. Defiant. It was music that sounded as if it'd been dragged through Hell, beaten and abused, and stood triumphantly on the other side.

"...I beeeeeg you as I craaaaaaaaawl..."

You will not be understood if you cannot allow your heart to sing, to bear your magnificent scars so that your pain will be felt and reckoned!

I. Don't. Care! I don't care. This is my music, my solace, my sanctuary. Everyone else can keep out. They're not gonna give a rat's ass anyways.

...You will seek to bring forth your lament in time. It is only natural, after all, to share one's journey, to gather a willing coven of like-minded tortured souls to indulge in communal grief. And from it, you will cultivate joy and meaning in a tainted garden of woe...

...fuck off, Aoide. Don't act like you know me like that.

Do I not? Who else better understands your plight than I? Myself, who hath been your guardian in this baleful existence?

...

You are beautiful, my child. Your beauty may pierce all barriers of humanity if you only allow. It may pass through language, cognizance, and logic, to move that which is mightier than the striking mountain with a word. It is your nature, and the nature of all men, to seek this endeavor.

...shut up. I don't wanna hear your philosophical bullshit right now. I just wanna play a few licks and, fuckin', get away from everything for like half an hour.

Ah ha ha ha! Your cooperation is inevitable, my child! Be aware, you have already drawn an admirer to the tortured screams of your soul!

...wha...? Oh. Greeeeeeaaat...

Ritsuko had had her eyes closed as she played, tuning out the world in favor of the one she created inside of her own head. It pained her like a frozen dip in ice water to be wrenched from that universe so suddenly, and her eyes floated up to perceive what Aoide had alluded to Before her was a young lady, just as her daemon had prophecized. The first thing that stood out to Ritz was her shocking pink hair. She wasn't punk either, and combined with her hair clip it was perfectly clear that she was going for some kind of precious, cutesy style. The second thing was how pretty she was. Make no mistake, she didn't look like Ritz's type, but she was perfectly objectionably pretty. The face and the figure for magazines, she'd honestly have trouble believing these type of people existed outside of airbrushed ads if one wasn't standing in front of her. Third, she was glaring at her.

Ritz didn't appreciate attention in any way, shape, or form. Her life and daily routine wasn't part of anyone else's business and she liked it that way. The stares made her feel judged and she'd gotten enough of that already. Between her choice of attire and nose stud enough people looked at her on a regular basis, their eyes expressing revulsion or disapproval. But this was worse somehow. It was as if she was being... observed. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Ritsuko's guitar hummed longingly as her fingers left the strings, her hand guiding her cigarette to her mouth. No joy. It was mostly ash by now. She'd slide her headphones down around her neck, tossing her cigarette in the dispenser and moving to light a new offensive incense stick.
"...can I help you with something?" she asked the rose beauty dismissively, giving her an impatient look with her tired eyes.

Posts : 992 Join date : 2015-10-07

The more she heard, the more enthralled she'd be. It was undeniable this girl was talented, perhaps enough to have her own contract with a label signed; and more than that, her talent lied not only in the vocal abilities and all the technical aspects concerning a professional singing, but the emotion conveyed in every verse. Brittany, as someone who usually pays more attention not to the lyrics, but to the melody, was simply carried away. It was necessary for the girl to directly talk to her to wake Brittany from her trance.

"...Huh? Oh, right. Sorry, I was just passing by and, um, had to stop to listen. You're, like, so good! Really, you're great!" Unbeknownst to Brittany, the girl with the guitar didn't seem too fond of attention, which is certainly odd if you come to think she picked a public environment for her little afternoon jam. Regardless, she deemed the lady an artist already. She even had the looks of one! The cool outfit, unbuttoned t-shirt, the rolled-up sleeves, the sultry attitude for a gloomy song... Oh, and the cigarette, because of course the cool kids on the block have to smoke. The smell wasn't great but it somehow suit the lady's vibe. "Never seen you around! Do you often come to play or are you just new?" Needless to say, Brittany was excited enough to inquire perhaps invasive questions to a complete stranger.

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The delinquent musician would reach her hand up to light her cigarette and take a heady drag, her eyes not leaving her new "fan"'s. Her normally distant, absent gaze was piercing and alight. Challenging even. Although Ritsuko didn't appreciate being judged, she did plenty herself, and the assumptions normally weren't positive considering who was judging and the fact that she disliked most people. She took the praise indifferently, of course. Ritsuko was adamant when she stated she didn't care what people thought. Music to her wasn't a way to put herself on display. She knew she was good, better than most, but that's not why she played it. It was her artform, her way of expressing her plight to those around her. What she cared about most is if whoever had heard it understood what she was trying to express. The symphony of her emotions to the uninformed was merely pleasant-sounding notes. The way she was complimented led her to believe that she simply didn't get it. "Good" and "Great" were one thing. Of course she was fucking good, she spent her childhood being forced to be good at it! She was looking for something a little... more. "Melancholic", "Frustrated", "Meaningful", "Spiteful", "Painful", something that proved to her she actually digested her tortured cries. Ritz hadn't seen that yet, and began to doubt she would from her.

Ritsuko blew her smoke out through her nose, allowing it to crowd the bench. Here she didn't feel rude for doing so. Normally she would blow it upward to be polite, so it wouldn't be in anyone's face. But this was a smoke pit. If you didn't enjoy it, it was the wrong place to be.
"...I've been around," she would comment dismissively. It wasn't untrue. Ritz had been in Endymion for a handful of months, but she had been around. Not to mention she was there for the Eternal Divide. Of course she didn't stay much longer after that. In any case, this seemed like a decent stopping point for the moment to smoke her cigarette, even if it was doing something she didn't enjoy. Speaking to others.

Judging purely on her speaking patterns, her overall look, hair color, hairclip, and a host of other information, Ritsuko had pegged her salmon-haired fan as one of those Omagawd girls. She despised those types. They were always so superficial! Look at my FaceSpace and SnapShot, guise! I took this sepia-tone picture of the beach at sunset with my feet in it like I'm the viewpoint and it's sooooooo insightful! Tch! Ritz had her childhood stolen from her, paid for her art in blood, sweat, tears, past, present, future, sanity, and anything else anyone could have given for her art and she'd be damned if anyone thought they knew how important that was! She could feel the resentment bubbling to the surface, even with her exuberance.

"Do ya have anything you wanna say, or are you just gonna bother me until I leave?" Ritsuko snapped. She wasn't in any sort of mood to be bothered, especially interrupted, and she didn't take kindly to those not taking her art as seriously as she did. Even if she was the only one who did.

Relevant Weakness:

Posts : 992 Join date : 2015-10-07

"I've been around". Some kind of vague, inconclusive and elusive answer, eh? Somehow, it fit the girl's appearance quite well. She did seem that type of artist, judging by her looks alone. The cool, aloof, deep and introspective kind of artist. Teenage girls usually dig up these types, perhaps more than the sociable artists. There's some mysterious aura that draws you to feel attracted (any kind of attraction), and simple responses like "I've been around" could trigger it. Brittany was no exception but she sorta was at the same time. Yet, it was intriguing how she has never seen the girl for these areas. As in, she lived there, it was her place. Whether Ritzuko was lying or not, or whether she simply meant she has been around Endymion as a whole (not necessarily Vista neighborhood), she didn't know. She knew, however, said artist had an attitude problem that deserved some fixing, and it wasn't even about smoking and blowing smoke clouds to someone else's face, which caused the teen to just swing her hand in the air and cover her respiratory routes with the other. Being used to other models with a fondness for cigarettes, it wasn't truly bothersome, and at the same time the smell remained nauseating enough for her.

"...Weeell...are you, like, gonna play more? 'Cause if you aren't, then yes, I'm gonna leave and all. But you know, that kind of attitude won't give you many fans if that's what you're looking for in here..." She chuckled, illustrating her typical good mood. Hardly someone's grumpiness would extract from her an equally ill reaction. That and, just like Ritzuko thought, being in a public place chanting your song's lyrics while majestically playing your instrument will draw some gazes and attention, even unwanted. Should she point it out? Maybe not, unless the artist complained about privacy and all. Then, Brittany definitely would take the bait and shove the truth, for the sake of giggling at the possible outcome. 'Cause that's the type of girl she is, prone to laugh at others when situation is appropriate...and sometimes, at herself as well.

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The artist raised an eyebrow at her new "fan", shaking her foot on her knee and tapping the ashes from her cigarette. She couldn't understand why people would come to the smoke pit and complain about the smoke. In any case, her reaction was opposite the one she'd expected. Ritz had anticipated that she'd get all offended and retort with some weak argument or attack, causing the delinquent to blow her off unoffended. In all earnestness she could use some vindication right about now. Making people feel worse about themselves made her feel better sometimes, like it was her own little victory over the world when it screwed her over. Ritsuko wanted to win one, even if it was against an innocent bystander. She was still pretty pissed about the subpar treatment from her boss and her coworker not that long ago and was itching to let loose her frustration. She hadn't gotten any time to burn it off for herself and the model was in the wrong place at the right time.

"Hmph. I don't do this shit for fans. I don't give a shit what people think about my music. I do this shit for me," Ritz expounded with a scoff. She tilted her head at the pretty younger teen, dark brown eyes blank in indifference. Ritz didn't appreciate being chided on her attitude. The model's snipe came in clear as day to ears that were ready to pick up anything negative anyway, whether it was there or not. Ritsuko still wanted to play, but she didn't like being judged. Good or bad. The anonymity of being ignored in public was comfortable to her, that what she did didn't matter, that who she was wasn't important... She could be herself and no one cared. But she felt defiant and uncooperative as usual. Her fingers would pluck at the neck of her guitar impatiently, making noise but not really forming into music. An irritated sort of strum of the strings, her guitar groaning with hums of bass notes at the bitter woman's tense fingers.

"Pfff, maybe I will, maybe I won't," Ritz teased sourly, "Why do you even care?" She glared at the salmon-haired beauty with icy eyes, mentally picking her apart. She couldn't get a good read on her, but bits and pieces were there. The musician could feel that the model was irked, even if just slightly. It was the comment on her attitude, or course. To be frank, Ritsuko didn't feel like playing anymore. She felt like arguing instead, and it seemed like she found the perfect candidate for that. If the delinquent could act so coldly to her at first impression and get a sort of venomous warmth back it would be pretty damn satisfying to get her to snap.
"Seriously? You're the only one that stopped in the middle of the sidewalk like I was playing just for you. Hmm, you didn't really think that, did you?" she mocked, poison dripping from her lips, a condescending tone coated with false sweetness. As she brought her smoke to her mouth to take another drag Ritsuko couldn't conceal her malevolent smile and gleaming eyes. She wanted to get a rise out of the girl. It'd make up for getting chewed out by schoolchildren earlier and having an episode. Well... not quite make up for it. But it'd sure as hell make her feel better for a few minutes.

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She does it for herself? Alright then. Brittany found said excuse pretty much the oddest thing coming from a person who ventured into a public place to play an instrument. Of course the girl wouldn't respond verbally to this, delivering a light shrug and preferring to occupy herself with another bite in her hot dog.

The following aggressiveness from Ritzuko, however, caught her a bit off-guard. She wasn't used to such lousy reception nowadays. Perhaps in her old pre-teen days maybe, but not now. Still, she had quite some experience with people snapping at her, including homeless girls with feral attitude. "Why? Were you playing just for me?" She said with still her mouth half-full, munching a bit more before swallowing the hot dog piece and addressing properly to the artist. Brittany didn't believe so, she wasn't that self-centered, but returning the question would surely give her a funny reaction to laugh at. "I mean, I didn't even suggest it...I was, like, just passing by. If you said so, that's because it crossed your mind, not mine!", she giggled a bit, finding the logic in it funny enough to make her in good mood as usual. "But seriously, if you, like, wanted privacy, couldn't you have just, you know, gone to a more secretive place to play? Like your home or something? This is a public space, I can stop by to watch if I want to. I mean, you shouldn't even be bothered. I'm not doing anything but watch, and I'm the only one anyways." True enough, she looked around trying to find any other living soul interested in whatever the young artist was playing and, unless she was too much of an airhead to not look attentively (which she was, but not right now), Brittany was indeed the only one who ceased her steps to appreciate something not always seen around those parts of the neighborhood. In a way, Ritzuko could be happy. If the lady wanted an argument, she found it...although not quite the way she expected, considering Brit's carefree and easygoing personality to shake it off with a smile or two. How long it will last, remains to be seen.

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The musician placed a tired hand to her face with a grimace. She wasn't surprised that being so rude and dumbstruck hadn't crossed her mind. It was doubtful that anything that didn't have something to do with TMZ or cute boys OMG! crossed her mind, but that was Ritsuko assuming the worst of people again. She was usually right anyway, only half-right in this instance. Her sly accusations were returned with defensive deflecting as expected, but Ritz thought it would piss her off a bit more. Honestly? It was pretty damn annoying. The model's tittering grated on her ears like nails on a chalkboard it was so inane! What had upset her most is by how far she'd missed the point to act so self-righteous about it, and more importantly her own thoughts on the subject. It was difficult to put into words, and she found it irksome when under pressure to do so.

"Like, that's not... Urgh, you just don't fuckin' get it," she growled with exhaustion as she scratched at her temple, "It's not even like that, I shouldn't have to find somewhere else to play so that I'm not leered at. Just, fuckin', stop staring at me like I'm some kind of sideshow!" Ritz didn't mind if the salmon-haired beauty enjoyed her music or not, but it wasn't for her and she wanted her to stop acting like it was. Her exasperation had shown through in her own response, but she wasn't frustrated with the cheery girl. The musician was frustrated with herself for being unable to articulate what she meant. She could be right, oh-so-very right if only she could actually describe it!

The irresponsible young adult knew what she was talking about, she really did! But it was... complicated! Like, her music was a gift, not a celebration...? Like running commentary and unlike a storyteller. But it wasn't easy to vocalize what she intended by it, and the more she tried to make sense of it in her own mind the more difficult it became, and she could be seen to become visibly bothered by her lack of definition. It was so simple, but just so damn abstract! It wasn't about privacy, it was about the reaction she'd received. She was playing to express herself, she wasn't giving a message, she wanted people to hear it but not listen intently! Why couldn't people just experience it without acting like it was some kind of event!? Everyone else fuckin' got it, why did she feel so damn special!? Son of a bitch, why was this so goddamn hard?!

She clenched her fist on her temple as she rolled her cigarette between her fingers to field strip her cherry, pursing her lips at the thought that wouldn't complete itself. Finally resigning herself to giving up, she gave a half-hearted gesture toward her "fan".
"Look, I don't care what you fuckin' do. Just... stop doing what the fuck you're doing, it's pissing me off," she defended. Ritz began to pout and fume, having known she had lost the argument she started. If only the fuckin' idea would come to her in a way she could explain it she could prove her wrong. To her, it was perfectly clear.

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Brittany had to admit, while she was not looking for a clash of any sorts, there was this almost uncontrollable urge to tease the other lady just because she was making unnecessary effort into shunning her away. It felt like discussing with a child, and that Brittany had large experience with. You know, when you stare intensively to a child to the point of making them feel awkward and lose composure, or when you actually present reasonable logical arguments that the child, in their lack of maturity, can't counter out of pure naivety. The analogy surely made perfect sense in her mind, and so Brittany had the best possible solution for this: with her hot dog in hands, she simply sat down to the bench, however her face and torso turned in the opposite direction, in a way she wouldn't exactly stare or leer at the girl. Technically, since it was the primary concern for the artist, it would get solved (at least in Brit's mind!) the instant Brit decided to simply not make eye contact them and act indifferent to a possible performance, should Ritzuko indeed feel more comfortable with the fact that now the young model turned her back on her (literally, not figuratively).

"...Alright. I'm not watching anymo-ore!", she giggled cheerfully, almost in a singing tone, dedicating one more bite to her meal. Brittany wouldn't even mention how Ritzuko could feel at ease to play if she wanted to. It would ruin the point, no? And if Ritzuko decided to go back to playing, according to Brittany's imaginary script, the model would just say "nice" and act cool. If she complained still, Brittany could state she was merely enjoying herself and a place to sit until finishing her hot dog, not breaking any rules about privacy whatsoever or even bothering her with undesired approaches for a conversation. Either way, Brittany won (at least in her mind)! Simple, no? She was such a genius! And only a good-humored genius could come up with such a simple yet effective solution!

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The urge to wipe that smug look off her face was overwhelming. Ritsuko grit her teeth and furrowed her brow at the pink young lady, loathing every fiber of her being. She didn't appreciate being condescended to, especially when she was losing an argument. Just because she was too stupid to understand music didn't mean that Ritz was stupid, it meant she was fuckin' ignorant! The crowd read it, it was simple! The electricity in the air, the mood throughout her song, it all carried a certain tone to it. A tone she rudely ignored. Ritz began to gain a firmer grasp on her argument, although she was no longer interested in that. The time to prove herself right had passed, now she had to deal with self-righteous bitches making a mockery of her. The grinding of teeth was almost audible from the tiny Japanese woman. She didn't ever appreciate being spoken down too, most people didn't, but her especially so. Napoleon Complex at its finest.

Fingers tensed as the beauty sat beside her, turning her back sharply to her in a thin facade to "not pay her any mind". That wasn't the point! The point was she shouldn't have put her in the spotlight, she wasn't playing to be part of the spotlight! Ritsuko furrowed her brow as violent visions danced past her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to reach out her hands, grasp her around her exposed neck and throttle her until she quit acting like such an condescending slut! ...but she wouldn't do it, of course. Those were merely happy little fantasies. Still, she wanted to do something. Although she was more one to just walk away and leave her unsatisfied, Ritsuko was petty and bitter. She wanted her to pay for acting the way she did, and the gears in her head began to tick.

She wants more songs, right? Okay. She'll fuckin' get one alright...

The small adult turned to her guitar, staring daggers into the back of the overly optimistic teen. God, her attitude was so damn annoying. At this point Ritz had taken it as some sort of challenge to piss her off while still looking innocent. Her fingers gently plucked at Aoide, pretending to tune her, as she searched for the correct note she wanted to play. A sinister smile crept to her lips as she fondled the volume knob, having discovered exactly what she wanted to do. Quietly, Ritsuko lifted her guitar right behind her head and thumbed a loud, ear-shattering, squealing chord as hard as she could pluck. The cacophony had cause several around them to hold their ears and stare in protest, she could only imagine how it pierced through the salmon girl's eardrums.
"Whoops. I didn't mean to do that," she stated, voice dripping with sarcasm. A smirk graced her lips for a fraction of a second before returning to a neutral, disapproving expression. Even if she didn't want people staring her up and down it was worth it to teach her a lesson. Served her right for not getting the message, maybe this one would be perfectly clear.

Although still a little miffed at her for not freakin' leaving like she asked, Ritsuko's petty revenge had evened out her mood somewhat. It gave her a sort of solace to know that she could fall back on being mean even if she couldn't argue with the model. She didn't care how it came across, not like she was out to impress anyone or anything. All she wanted was to fade away into the shadowy atmosphere, and she couldn't do that if insensitive people kept putting her on the spot! It was background music for a reason, damnit! But she wasn't done with her, not yet, Ritz felt like her message wouldn't be effectively communicated from her little prank, she was pretty dense after all. The abrasive musician ran a tired hand over her face, not making an attempt to hide her disdain from her cheery counterpart.
"Alright, look, I know you can't take a hint, so if I play you a song will you leave me the hell alone?" she sighed. Of course it wasn't going to be a good song. She already had something in mind.

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