━ " THE BOYS, THE GIRLS THEY ALL LIKE CARMEN. "

     Cleo Caddell can't help but frown at the sight of her drunken mom, Nora Caddell, passed out onto the tiled floor, cracked mouth agape and drool seeping past her lips to her chin. Cleo wasn't surprised. On the contrary. This is a regular occurrence in the infamous Caddell household, where the mother regularly throws her responsibilities out of the window, replacing any obligation with the consolation of albastrine substances. Her children were to fend for themselves at the ripe age of nine.

The unconscious woman had used Cleo's half-empty cereal box as a pillow throughout the night, obliging for the young girl to settle on an empty stomach. She groans, heaving herself up the kitchen isle. Her rosey lips quirk up at the sight of a glass bottle squeezed in the crook of Nora's arm. Without hesitating, she yanks it out of the woman's weak embrace.

"Thanks Mommy." She whispers giddily, poking the unconscious figure on the freckled cheek. 

Cleo gulps down most of it in the space of an instant, the deplorable taste triggering a dramatic wince out of her mouth. The burning of the liquid that stings her sore throat is a familiar feeling. One that she's grown to appreciate as it sends ripples of tingles through her.

An almost childish giggle slips out of her lips, and Cleo clasps a hand over her mouth, dreading the possible wake of the woman. It's strange, how innocence seems to flicker over the intoxicated girl's appearance. She licks her lips, satisfied of the mother-daughter gift provided for her first day of school.

Blake Caddell is in suite to step into the narrow kitchen, rolling his eyes at the sight of his swaying sister. She dances silently in the room, tip-toeing around the dispersed crumbs of breakfast on the ground. The echo of his steps causes Cleo to whip back around and send her brother a toothy smile. Waltzing forward, she grabs his hand and urges him to swing his hips along with her.

Blake adores his sister. More than anything in the damned world. Yet, he couldn't ignore how much she was starting to look like their mother. It isn't only in the pattern of tangles in her chestnut hair or her wide, ocean irises, but the way she resorts to dangerous pleasures to push down life's obstacle.

Cleo waves the finished bottle of Vodka in front of her brother's narrowed gaze. Sticking her tongue out, she enjoys the moment guided by the substance. "God Cleo, it's eight in the morning and your breath already reeks of alcohol." Blake scoffs. He lets go of his sister, turning to scavenge in the drawers for breakfast's potential.

"I'll brush my teeth Blay!'" The girl replies, screwing her hands on her hips and twirling around.

"You know that's not what I mean." He sighs, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge. "You remind me of Mom, drinking as soon as you wake. It's just not healthy." He scolds, gulping down the remnants of the bottle.

Cleo freezes at the words thrown her way. She despises being compared to the person that single-handedly ruined her life. She was trying to have fun, lighten up the mood. But then, she was always trying to have fun, wasn't she? There wasn't anything wrong with that. Nora Caddell had given up her responsibilities as soon as her husband died. Cleo wasn't doing the same. She didn't owe anyone anything.

"Fuck you, then.'" The hurt teenager bites back, opening the palm of her hand and letting the bottle slip. Crashing against the floor, a dozen of sharp shards of glass spread on the ground.

The sound of the crash causes Nora to moan against the box, but fails to extort her from her deplorable state. Blake shakes his head, used to his sister's rollercoaster of emotions and occasional bursts. He didn't have the power to blame her though. Not after everything she had been through.

The hint of the smile flashing over Cleo's mouth, she skips towards her brother and plants a short, wet kiss onto his cheek. "You're lucky I love you." He mutters under his breath, crouching down to clear the mess caused. 

"Luckiest girl ever!"

━━

      Appearances matter. Especially to Cleo.  She poses in front of her lengthy mirror, reflecting her chosen outfit. Low-rise bootcut jeans that hug her hips and a chunky golden belt holding it together. A black, cropped tank-top finishes the look as she slips it on, showing off the sparkle of her belly-button ring.

Cleo smiles as she opens her bed-side table drawer, a pile of accessories meeting her hungry eyes. Most of them stolen, the teen girl can't resist the appeal of cheap jewellery. Her hand latches onto large, golden hoops and child-like, jelly bracelets.

She pauses again in front of her mirror, holding on tightly onto her leather bag that carried her cigarettes-- lipgloss-- and strawberry-flavoured candy. She pops one onto her tongue, swallowing the minor portion that'd make up for breakfast.

If Cleo Caddell is the queen of something, it's school. The young girl learnt the art of interacting and attracting since she set foot in this place. It happens for her to employ a trick in the Caddell book to her own privilege. Her mother taught her most of it. How much a woman could achieve when she knew how to handle herself.

Cleo Caddell is usually described as infatuating. You cannot help but incline yourself towards the beautiful girl, that will lure you in with a glance. Eyes around her follow her steps, desire flickering over their gaze. If only they knew the storm brewing inside her daring eyes.

The girl reaches for the packet of cigarettes sitting in her bag. She groans as her fingers rummage around the depth of the empty bag. Call it an addiction, Cleo can't go a day without the comfort of nicotine trickling down her throat.

"Shit!" Cleo sighs, knowing Blake would be suspicious of her leaving the house before the first bell of school. He'd know she was up to something. A smirk layers over her mouth as she catches sight of her slightly ajar bedroom window. Quickly, she crouches to fit into the improvised exit, hurrying to slip out.

━━

    "God, I forgot my money." Cleo sighs dramatically, peering longly at the two packs taunting her.

She runs a finger along the metal counter, shifting her gaze to the eighteen year-old employee that stands before her. The girl leans slightly forward. "If only there was another way of getting those cigarettes?"

The boy's lips twist into a grin, chestnut eyes flicking up and down the girl. "Actually, there might be another way." He hints.

"Really?" She smiles, reading the name inked onto his silver badge. "I hope it's conform with the policy -- Theo." The boy cocks his head to the side, swiftly pointing to another room at the back of the shop.

"Of course it is, Cleo." Taken by surprised, the girl unconsciously backs away at the mention of her name. "I'm guessing?" He shrugs. How her name had managed to reach him was a mystery. One she didn't care to solve. 

The minutes following, the two are making out in an obscure space, the young girl pinned against the wall as Theo holds aggressively onto her hips. She runs her hand through his brunette hair, sweeping her tongue over his bottom lip. The boy groans into the kiss, until Cleo chooses to pull him off.

Cleo Caddell has rarely paid for anything in her life. Anytime the opportunity presents itself, all she has to do is peer at a responsible a certain way and enunciate her sentences a certain way for her trick to play out. She doesn't enjoy those moments, but life isn't 'rainbow and butterflies.'

"Don't think you'll get any more than this. You only offered me a few packets." The girl shrugs, tracing her finger along his defined jawline.

"I'll let you get more free stuff next time then?" Theo chuckles, fixing his collar. Cleo simply smirks before leaving, his gaze fixated onto her exit. Walking out of the shop, she grabs another bag of candy and directs herself towards the school.