Categories > Original > Drama
Technicolor Phase
5 reviews"Jade Anderson is an atomic bomb." Lindsey Crayfish is determined to find out what makes Jade Anderson tick - even if it means going to extreme lengths.
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Technicolor Phase
Prologue
"Jade Anderson is a technicolor black-and-white photo. She is everything she isn't. She's a dying soul inside a newborn's body and I cannot wrap my head around her. She is a dead living girl. And by theory, she's a living dead girl. She's a doll, and yet she's real."
Her eyebrows raise.
"Is Jade dangerous?" A diamond-edged dare is hidden in her steely voice.
"She is an atomic bomb. When she explodes, she will... destroy you. Jade Anderson will destroy everything round you, everything you love." He's serious. He has seen Jade Anderson destroy things with the blink of an eye. She is powerful.
"Should I stay away from her?" This time, her voice is ribbon-laced with outright fear.
"No."
He gets up, gathers his books in his arms, and strides away, long legs leaping and bounding, muscles dancing beneath the scratchy fabric of his jeans. His name is Alexander, Alexander Dowrie, and he's a poet, a poet of the most melodical kind.
Her name is Lindsey, Lindsey Crayfish. And Lindsey Crayfish is not the kind of girl to give up.
As Lindsey follows Alexander's pursuit, she spots a girl in a pair of washed-out grey jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt. Her hair, long and auburn, is tied into a messy bun. She is beautiful, in a hidden way. And this triggers a memory - Lindsey is sure she saw this girl earlier, with her long auburn hair covered by a blonde bob wig, wearing a flippy pink shirt and a revealing black leather corset. Her sky-high heels are now mere tatty sneakers, and she is disheveled in the extreme.
Jade Anderson is a paradox.
Oh my god, is this a fic with:
A) original characters with flaws?
B) a plot?
C) no major fucking romances?
D) no self-inserts?
E) NOT ONE BAND MEMBER??
Gasp.
Prologue
"Jade Anderson is a technicolor black-and-white photo. She is everything she isn't. She's a dying soul inside a newborn's body and I cannot wrap my head around her. She is a dead living girl. And by theory, she's a living dead girl. She's a doll, and yet she's real."
Her eyebrows raise.
"Is Jade dangerous?" A diamond-edged dare is hidden in her steely voice.
"She is an atomic bomb. When she explodes, she will... destroy you. Jade Anderson will destroy everything round you, everything you love." He's serious. He has seen Jade Anderson destroy things with the blink of an eye. She is powerful.
"Should I stay away from her?" This time, her voice is ribbon-laced with outright fear.
"No."
He gets up, gathers his books in his arms, and strides away, long legs leaping and bounding, muscles dancing beneath the scratchy fabric of his jeans. His name is Alexander, Alexander Dowrie, and he's a poet, a poet of the most melodical kind.
Her name is Lindsey, Lindsey Crayfish. And Lindsey Crayfish is not the kind of girl to give up.
As Lindsey follows Alexander's pursuit, she spots a girl in a pair of washed-out grey jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt. Her hair, long and auburn, is tied into a messy bun. She is beautiful, in a hidden way. And this triggers a memory - Lindsey is sure she saw this girl earlier, with her long auburn hair covered by a blonde bob wig, wearing a flippy pink shirt and a revealing black leather corset. Her sky-high heels are now mere tatty sneakers, and she is disheveled in the extreme.
Jade Anderson is a paradox.
Oh my god, is this a fic with:
A) original characters with flaws?
B) a plot?
C) no major fucking romances?
D) no self-inserts?
E) NOT ONE BAND MEMBER??
Gasp.
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