"i have to write stuff for this shit?"

whitney let out a frustrated sigh as she glared at the blank word document in front of her. she was lying in bed on her stomach, propped up on her elbows as she stared at her blank lap top screen. "who knew there was homework in the selection..." she grumbled to herself. she could finish the 'challenge' fairly quickly if she didn't care, but maybe the slightest part of her cared about the assignment. people could see this after all. lots of people. it made her nervous, but it was actually a pretty fucking cool opportunity. now she just had to take it seriously and focus. that was /totally/ easy for a firecracker like whitney. not.

"a random picture... um..."

"because it's always a good time for female empowerment..." she mumbled. she had literally been online just looking at random pictures for a solid twenty minutes before she had decided on one. the instructions were so vague, yet she guessed that was because she had to ever so clichely 'make it her own'. whatever. whitney was basically winging this whole entire thing. like always.

"damn, favorite and least favorite
royal" whitney laughed. "whoever
gave out this assignment is thirsty
for drama."

"good enough," she said as her hands paused and she stopped typing. her answers were 100% her. whitney's personality managed to find a way to come through even in a stuffy magazine article. now, whitney wasn't trying to start beef with elle. that wasn't it at all. honestly, whit considered what she wrote her subtle and shady version of flirting. it doesn't make sense now, but it will soon. whitney wanted to catch elle's attention. if she had to bash on a royal, she'd bash on elle in a teasing way. if the princess read the article, hopefully she'd realize that whitney had already basically admitted to loving trouble, so her comment wasn't a criticism. and even if elle did take the 'least favorite' thing the wrong way, whitney would just shrug, smirk, and explain she was just getting elle's attention like always. yeah, whit had thought that shit through.

"i guess i'll add some roses to make it aesthetic..." whitney commented with
a little laugh. she had no clue how to
write a magazine, so she was just going
for it. why the hell not?

"wait... what i would do as a royal..." whitney laughed hysterically. she'd never become a royal in a million years, that she was sure of. even if a princess got down on her knee and pulled out a ring that could pay whitney's rent for the next twenty years, she'd say no. that seems cruel, but it's really not. whitney wasn't princess or even wife material. she was a 'hella irresponsible troublemaker'.

whitney was laughing once more. that answer would probably give old conservatives reading it absolute heart attacks. that was kind of what she was going for. meaningful but still her. correct enough, but still something that no one else would have the balls to say. whitney was a lesbian and yet she had bigger balls than most of the male selected. or so she guessed. she didn't really know them or their ball sizes of course...

"what did i bring..." whitney thought for a minute. she didn't really bring anything too important. except for of course, her life line aka her laptop. her whole world was basically on the little beauty. it allowed her to basically take her work with her. she could mix music all day long if she wished (and if she remembered her charger). it may have seemed stupid, but the little piece of technology meant more to her than most things because it was her creative outlet that kept her sane. of course, she wouldn't say all that shit in the article. that was too personal and serious. no one really needed to know /that/ much about her.

"oh god... my family might see this?"

whitney was not ready for her parents to read what she wrote. the blonde considered going back and editing out all the cuss words and writing her answers more eloquently. no, that was way too much work. besides, her parents wouldn't actually read a /magazine/ would they? that wasn't really their style. she was just praying that they didn't read it.

now, whitney's call outs were all designed to be teasing. percy's full name wasn't even percival, but she called her little brother that just to piss him off. and gerard... well he was sixteen and insisted that he was now a 'man'. whitney mocked him endlessly for that and told him he was little. just to bother him because that's what siblings do.

her message to zach, her best friend, was absolute and total bs. whitney bet twenty bucks that she'd make out with the princess. it hadn't happened yet, but zach didn't need to know that. she'd mess with him for the time being. he'd think it was amazing that she'd accomplished so much in such a small amount of time. so of course she had to tease him. hopefully prince zac wouldn't think that message was for him. that would be awkward. like, no, the crown prince does no owe whitney twenty bucks and she's not willing to explain why her best friend would owe her money.

"and one last picture of a rose for good luck..." whitney said as she added the finishing touches to her article. it was good enough. not the best, not the worst. actually with all the 'fucks' and 'shits' it probably was the worst and the least appropriate. she might get sent home for her bluntness, but at least she'd go out with a bang. and with that, the blonde shut her precious laptop.