<br/><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/c8/88/e5/c888e5269a9fd9ce9dd07279cbb1c294.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Ryder Monroe<br/><br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>At the bar, getting regulated<br/><br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Liz, open<br/><br/><br/><strong>Content:</strong>Family Ties<br/><br/><br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>As shown<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Rum and Coke in hand, Ryder was just about to have a few choice words with Mister Thang next to her, maybe make him cry in front of his girl, when a gorgeous blonde glided up to her. She wasn't wearing much, but what there was of it was an ice cold blue. Stupid color. Not that Ryder gave a shit, it was the body in it that was important, she could go skydiving in those cleaves,<em>bet she's a screamer</em>, but...<br/><br/>"Ummmm....hey."<br/><br/>She almost choked on the mouthful of Rumand she'd started to swallow. How could she not have recognized Liz?  OK, she was a bit heavier in all the right places, and she seemed...peaceful, settled, other than the deer in headlights look Ryder was pretty sure she'd suddenly pasted on as well. But it was her fucking<em> twin</em>. How could she not...?<br/><br/>The water in her eyes was from swallowing the booze wrong. All it was. Fuck you.  "Hey," she rasped back. It was awful, to see her again, and have nothing else to say.  The years weren't the only problem, there was the family shit and the sex and the drugs and the anger and the lonliness and hating the world and the fact she had fucking<em>left</em>...she shouldn't have come, this was as messed up an idea as everything else...<br/><br/>"Lizzie...what the<em> fuck</em>are you wearing?"