<strong>NAME:</strong>Zoe Porter<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Tank top + skirt (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/e7/1e/ff/e71effc31d22b719a492b844a999430c.jpg)<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>Friday, June 9th<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>Doesn't mean anything to Zoe, right now.<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Old Lady Margaery’s - Backyard > Kitchen > Backyard.<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Zoe being Zoe.<br/><br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Jonas, Phillip, Sarah (well,<em>en passant</em>...) & anyone in the backyard.<br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/22600000/Krysten-R-3-krysten-ritter-22624733-500-333.png)</div><em>“Hey, look at Zoe. She’s clearly high as fuck, and the party barely started”.</em><br/><br/>No one around her pronounced those words, yet she could perfectly hear them.<br/><br/><em>But no, Zoe, that’s just the weed talking now. It’s in your head. Those million eyes you think are staring at you right now are actually those of a few dozen fellow stoners rocking their head at Naomi and her music.</em><br/><br/>Right after the hug, Zoe finished her cigarette, then tossed the butt on the ground and crushed it under the sole of her shoes. She swallowed her own saliva just to realise how dry her mouth was. She stared at Jonas for some long seconds before nodding. “Thank you, dear!”, she replied. Zoe felt as if she could watch herself from, say, a camera hidden between the branches of some tree. There she was, gazing at her ex-boyfriend as he moved towards the picnic table.<br/><br/><em>Wait. Is</em>that<em>my voice? Does it sound like that? “Thank you, dear!”, seriously!? And why do I look so clumsy? Is that Sarah over there? Jesus, Zoe, you’re a fucking disgrace. Everyone’s looking at you, Zoe, so easy, now, little girl.</em><br/><br/>Truth be told, though, no one in the crowd was really paying attention to little Zoe’s delusional misadventure: Pearl Lipstick were providing her with all the ‘covering fire’ she needed. Except Jonas, maybe...<br/><br/><em>Why is he here, anyway? He hates this kind of things. Oh! Is he seeing someone? And why do I even care?</em><br/><br/>...and Phillip Ekhardt.<br/><br/>“Hey!”, she protested – albeit weakly – as Chloe’s best friend almost threw her on the ground. Luckily, however, the metalhead was quick enough to grab her. “Fuck, I hate this.” She muttered as she rubbed a hand against the back of her head, her fingers running through her hair. “Okay, I really need to eat something.” She repeated, her blue eyes trying to bring Jonas’ face into focus. Except that Jonas walked away with her beer (and he even told her he was gonna wait for her outside, but whatever...).<em>What a jerk. I can’t believe I let him –...</em><br/><br/>So, Phillip. “Gotta eat something, ‘kay?” She repeated once more, trying her best to be heard despite the music. She moved on, dodging through the people coming out of the house and heading towards the swimming pool. In the process, she made sure to keep her eyes low, so as to avoid any unrequested eye contact. Then she took a deep breath and made her way till the kitchen, where she was greeted by some familiar faces whose names she probably forgot a long time ago.<br/><br/>Less than a couple of minutes later, she was back with no food and a half-empty 1.5 L bottle of Coke. Oh, and another cigarette dangling from her crimson red lips.<br/><br/>She looked at Jonas – who was sitting by the picnic table – but eventually walked towards Phillip.<br/><br/>“Sorry, Mr. Ekhardt. Really shouldn’t have smoked that last one.” She then drank some Coke and let off a sigh. “How are you? And where did I put my beer – oh, right, Jonas...” A short pause. “...I’m gonna go for my beer.” She raised a hand as if she wanted Phillip to wait for her, then headed towards the picnic table.<br/><br/>“So, what brings you here?”, she asked once she got close enough to the table where her green-haired ex-boyfriend was sitting for him to notice her. “Can I have my can back? Please?”<br/>