!PEYTON RAE MOORE!

[-->PEYTON&&GABBY<--]

Name:
Peyton Rae Moore

Age/Grade:

Peyton is seventeen and entering her senior year

Character PB:

Hilarie Burton

Neighborhood/Dorm:

Peyton will be living in a dorm

Extra Curricular Activities:

Peyton is a very accomplished musician. Her band was Boston's underground music scene this past summer but due to the band's drama queen of a drummer and Peyton having to leave state for school they were forced to say goodbye to eachoter. She is also quite the artist. She spends time in her dorm either playing guitar or painting something new. She tries all mediums of art, even brings it with her, meaning grafitti and other such days. She is also fond of running. She runs for miles and miles, just to think or clear her head. It's also fun to get high off of the endorphins. But just spending time with friends, reaking havok and performing little antics is the most fun for Peyton.

Appearance:

Look at her. What do you see? You see the tall, slender, blonde girl. You see that mop of curls and those green eyes. Those green eyes have gotten her into trouble many times before, wheather it was with an icy glare or a cute wink. They're her favorite thing about herself. Her eyes are jade green, they're big and usually have eyeliner and mascara around them. You can tell what she's feeling just by looking into those eyes, all of her emotions reflect there.

It's not for her to say wheather or not she's pretty, some people say she's gorgeous and others say she's ugly. In reality she is a pretty girl, she doesn't really fuss over her looks at all. In her case, what you see is not what you get. Look at her again. She looks like a preppy cheerleader but she is the exact oppisite. She's got that smooth tan skin and a slender/athletic build.

She likes to wear form fitting clothing, but not to the point where it makes her look slutty. She usually wears skinny jeans and some form of a tight tee shirt. Chucks are her choice when it comes to footwear. Hoodies, theres an interesting story behind each one. Wheather she kept it from a relationship gone sour or bought it at a concert they all have some sort of memory behind them.

Personality:

Peyton Moore knew she had to live everyday like it was the last day she’d ever breathe ever since she was a small child . So now she does what she wants to do when she wants to do it. She never thinks twice. Sometimes its bad. But learn from life’s mistakes, right?
She’s spirited, assertive; she speaks up for herself and is aggressive. Not a bad gets into fights all the time aggressive, even though she does sometimes, but the type of aggressive where if she sees something she wants she’ll go get it. But sometimes she will be quite the bitch.
She doesn’t give up without a fight. When the blood was leaving her body faster than a triple crown racehorse something in her kept her alive. Ever since birth she’s been stubborn, she just doesn’t give up. Which can either be a good or a bad thing, take your pick.
She is very artistic, every form of art she'll try atleast once. She takes her art everywhere though; graffiti is one of her hobbies.
She doesn’t care what people think about her. She’s not afraid to be herself, she’s been dared to skip around in a tutu singing “I feel Pretty” and did it without a drop of alcohol. Ok well that was only one experience but you get it. How about this: She loves who she is as a person and flaunts it.
Peyton can go into serious depressions. In Breakfast At Tiffany’s they’re referred to as the mean reds. One minute you’re happy and the next, bam! You’re sad and afraid and you don’t have any clue why. Her last one almost cost her her life.
She’s pretty good with friendships. In her last year of high school she made a few friendships, but ones that lasted. She can be the one of the group who is the shoulder to cry on.
Over this past summer she’s turned into quite the party girl. She was one before, alcohol and drugs were a regular in her life, but now she lives her life like it’s a party no matter where or how she lives it.
Peyton is a very talented musician and has been ever since he was little. Music is her passion, her life. It’s what makes her heart beat. She doesn’t go anywhere without a pic, and if she ever goes on a trip for any time over a few hours the guitar goes with her. Writing songs and just strumming on the guitar are two of her absolute favorite things to do.
She’s a blast to be around. You know that saying: “A true friend bails you out of jail, a best friend is the one sitting next to you saying ‘damn, that was fun.’” Peyton is the type of girl who is sitting next to you even if you’re not friends. She does whatever she can to turn anything into a good time.
She tends to speak without thinking. This gets her in trouble a lot. Usually it’s a random thought, usually offensive in some way and he’ll just blurt it out. Even when she was little she would speak her mind: “You’re fat!” “You have weird hair!” Those were just when she was little and holding onto her mother’s basket in the grocery store. Now it’s much worse, and she’s added a rather colorful vocabulary to go with it.
Oh yes, she loves a good fight. Ever since she was a baby she’s fought everything. Even little things she’ll fight about if he’s bored. She’s very protective of her friends, especially a certain few, if you even so much as think about insulting them or harming them in any way she will come down on you harder and faster than anything you could ever imagine.

In A Nutshell:
In every clique there's the person who listen's and is the shoulder to cry on. That's what Peyton has been her entire life. Usually she has nothing to cry about herself. She's up beat, nice, sweet, a little shy. Psht yea, only to teachers. The real Peyton, only the one that comes out when she's with her friends is outrageous, she's a party girl you could say. Electrically charged, she could stay up for days and not feel tired at all. Take a look at her she looks like some sweet young preppy cheerleader... Hell no. She's a total reprobate, and she enjoys being one. She stands for her beliefs and fights for them. She's usually fin to be around, but she can be a total bitch. Sometimes when something depresses er she can put a damper on things but she tries not to. She can be pretty wacky and outrageous and obnoxious, but in a fun way. She lives by the motto "Be yourself, everyone else is allready taken."

Current Stats:

::Single
::Straight (For the most part)
::Born August 4
::L o/i ving life as best as she can
::LOVES her 1964 ‘Stang
::Parties hard
::Drives hard
::Lives hard
::Hates her step dad
::Loving Music

Likes:

;Boys
;Guitars
;Boys who play guitar
;Parties
;Hoodies, skinny jeans and chucks (they’re her trifecta)
;Getting lost
;Art
;Her hair
;Crazy Costumes
;Crazy Makeup
;Breaking Rules
;Getting into a good fight
;Those people who stick with you no matter what… What are they called again?
;Bad comebacks
;Being Hypocritical
;Old Movies
;Kissing



Dislikes:

;Being Bored
; Drama
;Snitches
;Talkers
;Gossip
;Overly preppy people
;Fake People
;Hypocrites

Family info:

Parents:
Sawyer Moore--> Father
(Divorced)
(Deceased)

Diana Moore--> Mother
(Divorced)
(Re Married)

Paul Wilson--> Step Father
(Peyton absolutely detests him)

((History next posts))

[-->PEYTON&&GABBY<--]

History:

Once Upon A Lie

August 4, 1989. 6:09:23 am. Walter Reed Army Medical Hospital. Washington D.C. Peyton Rae Moore was born with the umbilical chord wrapped around her neck. The doctors quickly snapped it and the screaming baby girl entered the world with a huge bang. Peyton was Diana Moore and Sawyer Moore’s first child. They were so proud of their little girl who was going to grow up taking ballet lessons every Saturday, become the prom queen, love her country and be everything they ever wanted in a girl. Well, it didn’t really turn out the way they planned. She was born to the former pageant queen and the war hero, she was supposed to be the product of the American dream. Peyton likes to call it the American lie.

But more about that later.

Two weeks later, the Moore family packed up the cars and drove north on I-95 to the suburbs of Boston Massachusetts. They call the town Weston, and it is literally a postcard. Gorgeous homes, gardens, families and only fifteen minutes away from the city, it looks like a clip right out of a 1950's tv show.

When Peyton was five she got her hands on a guitar for the first time and she fell in love. She hasn’t been twenty-four hours without playing it at least once her entire life. She was in one band and the summer between her junior and senior year of high school they were Boston’s underground punk scene. She sang and played her guitar in front of four other boys but due to their drama queen drummer, they were forced to say goodbye.

You got me all figured out?
You got something to say?
Tell tall tales behind my back
Too scared to say them to my face

Throughout her elementary and middle school she was picked on for her attitude. She never wanted to fit in; it confused her why she couldn’t be herself. So in seventh grade, she was known for being one of the weird kids who didn’t focus on boys shopping and makeup. She was more than relieved when she and her mother moved away.

Again they packed up the cat and drove south on I-95. All the way south to beautiful Miami Florida. “Miami people are different, they’re more laid back” her mother kept assuring her. Young Peyton was in sixth grade, still being the hell raiser who didn’t care what all the ‘popular girls’ thought. The drama doesn’t stop, no matter where you go.

Where’s dad? The couple split because of his excessive traveling for the army, sort of ironic how Peyton’s father was the patriotic war general and she was one of the people out there protesting against war. Anyways, the two split, sort of a mutual decision. The divorce went very smoothly and every agreement was made quickly and without fuss. But Peyton’s mom panicked, and that’s how they ended up going south.

Peyton spent her middle school years in Miami Middle School with her mom going out every Friday night, trying to find the new mister right. It never happened. By this time she had graduated from her acoustic to her black Stratocaster, her red Squier bass and occasionally the drums on the side. She even took up keyboard when she got bored. Anything to get her mind off of the people she had to put up with. She also became very fond of art. Painting and graffiti were her main things to do.

Peyton spent her school years in Miami and summers in Boston, having two places to call home was pretty nice. The summer between eighth and ninth grade her mother decided she would move back up to Boston letting Peyton stay behind in a dorm at Miami High. One day while helping her mom move in she met Andrew.

Andrew and Peyton hit it off right away, when she was down in Miami they’d talk on the phone during the holidays Peyton would hang out with him and during the summer you couldn’t get the two apart. You know where this is heading. Just a reminder, her life is filled with these wonderful clichés.

Between Peyton’s sophomore and junior year the two started dating. Things between them got pretty serious. One night at a party the two found themselves kissing, shortly after they found themselves in the pool house. That was a mistake, the couple decided to keep what happened that night a secret between them. They stopped dating but were still good friends.

Lipstick has a way of leaving more than just a mark on my sheets,
coloring my senses cherry red; at least for this week...
Kisses under starry night skies, talked about in song,
we play along, so bitter sweet by our design.
I'm sick and tired of writing songs about you,
This is it, this is the end...

Junior year changed her life. She met her new room-mate, Jack. The two met while moving into their dorm room, Peyton was dancing around to Reel Big Fish and couldn't hear the pounding at the door. Finally, when she heard the muffled sounds of knocking. She pulled open the door and the boy fell into the room, bringing Peyton down with him.
"I'm so sorry!"
"No, no, no it's my fault" Peyton rubbed her head, standing up. She extended her arm out to pull him up, he accepted. Eye to eye now, she looked at the handsome boy,
"Peyton" she said with a tiny wave. He grinned smally.
"Jack."

The two exchanged awkward conversations until a few weeks into the school year. Jack opened the door and saw Peyton playing her guitar.
“Oh, hey”
She looked up, the strumming ceased, “H-Hey” her voice was kind of shaky.
“What are you playing?” he walked farther into the room, placing his messenger bag next to the desk on his side of the room.
“Oh, it’s just a song my dad likes.”
“Bob Dylan?”
She nodded, looking down a small smile spread on her face.
“Can I hear it?” he asked. She looked up, her eyes wide. He walked over and sat on the twin mattress next to her. She nodded a little and began to play the song. He smiled slightly as he watched her play.
“You’re really good,”
“Thanks” her voice was hushed, the song faded away. She looked at him; he did the same back at her.
Nothing else happened that day. But they knew something was going on.

Take off your makeup, put down the camera,
choke on the drama that makes me want to,
tear up the pictures and pages you've saved,
creating a life of trends and make believe...

A few weeks later at a party the real Peyton was introduced to Miami High. There were kids snorting cocaine off a mirror in one room, doing shots in the next, doing all sorts of things upstairs. Peyton sniffed up the line effortlessly, the Columbian powder steeling in her system. She leaned back and shut her eyes, giggling a little. The other people started to laugh; she opened her eyes.
“I didn’t know you had it in you” said one of the boys with a laugh.
Peyton giggled a little again “Shut up and get me a drink.” The boy nodded and took his arm from around her getting up to fetch her some form of alcohol.
“You know what? No you’ll spike it” she said, stumbling to get up, still laughing. She went into the kitchen and filled up a shot glass with tequila, knocking it back. She walked out and looked around, her back against the wall. She felt someone grab her hand and lead her to a circle, boy, girl, boy, girl etc. Everyone was sitting around a lone card. The boy pulling her was Jack.
“Oh my god I haven’t played suck and blow since freshman year” said Peyton.
“In my opinion we should’ve never stopped playing it” said some girl sitting across from her. She picked up the card and the game started. It made it around the circle a few times until finally Peyton, sitting next to Jack got distracted.
“Hey look at-“ the card had fallen and her lips were on Jack’s. They fell over, still kissing. People were laughing and a few cheering them on. Peyton sat up; Jake took her hand again.
A few days later they were officially a couple and Peyton was known as the girl who could do ten shots, a few lines and still be able to hookup with someone.

So she kept partying throughout the year, dreading March. The rumors of her hooking up with boys other than Jake had reached his ears, the two split but stayed friends. They did have too much fun together to not be. March came. This was the month her mother would marry Paul. Peyton’s relationship with Paul wasn’t exactly the best; it was awful. The two hated each other, this kept Peyton away from her mother.

She sucked it up and drove north on I-95 for the wedding. Her mother’s wedding to the first man to say “I Love You” and probably not even mean it. This is the same man who made sure Peyton had no money to support herself all throughout high school. While up there she woke up to her friend Amber packing her things. Peyton was confused and asked what was going on.

“Your dad was shot and killed in Iraq”

Those words started Peyton’s first deep depression. Twenty-four hours later she found herself sitting on a bench on the boardwalk. Jack found her there and let her cry about it. After that she tried to put it behind her but the fact that her mother had married a total ass hole who she couldn’t be around and that her father was dead gave her virtually no family.

Other than the death of her father nothing eventful happened at the school. The gossip whores were going mad, and when they have nothing to talk about they improvise. Peyton was the poor soul they decided to have a field day with. First there were whispers, then a few stares, then Jack walking into her room.


-continued-

[-->PEYTON&&GABBY<--]

“Hey,”
“Hi,”
“Peyton I’m so sorry”
“About what?” she asked, thinking she had put her father’s death behind her. He stared at her.
“Didn’t you-“
“Jack… What’s going on?”
“There’s this rumor…”
Peyton’s eyes narrowed.
“Saying you had a miscarriage.”
She sat there, frozen. The rest of the school year she was the whore, the druggie. She still went to parties but stayed with the kids who did crack and usually found herself the one the boys flocked to for random hookups. She was a mess. Everything around her was. That rumor lost her all of her friends, Paul had basically convinced her mother to forget about her.Jack walked into the dorm. The last day of school added some more bounce to his step. The boxes were taped up and laying on top of one was the limp body of a girl, pills scattered out around her.

“Why’d you do it Pey?” seeing her in the hospital bed, glaring at him was the worst thing ever.
“Because there’s no future for me” she stated simply.
Those were the last words she had spoken to the boy. He left, telling her he’d be there to pick her up. When he arrived a few days later she wasn’t there. The dorm was empty when he had gone to check it. No note was left anywhere either.

Out of the box, out of the kitchen.
Out of the world she's grown so fearful of, so fearful of.
I don't ever want to see you again.
I don't ever want to see you again.
I don't ever want to see you again.
I don't ever want to see you again, my friend.
This is the end.

Out of the house, she grabs the keys, runs for the hills and doesn't leave a letter.
That way the impact will be much better.

She drove North. As fast as she could. She passed Boston and went to Canada, of all places. Her cousin lived up there, she figured she'd spend time with her cousin before she enrolled in a new school.

Carry on home,
I'll be waiting miles and miles away,
leaving you to be forever seventeen,
cleaning up the messes that you've made.

[Mitchel||Trinity]

Uhm...duhhur!
Yes!
SooOOOOooo...

Accepted.