Petty Woman [Open]

[hellfire_empath]

Fashion porn.

That's what it felt like to Brooke whenever she entered Lanvin's New York flagship store. Everywhere around her there was just fashion. The young woman reveled in it, her high heeled basic black Prada pumps digging into the plush zebra-striped rugs as she slowly walked around the three-story shop. She wasn't looking for anything specific, mind. It was simply that the weekend had come and as per Brooke's agreement with Rachel, weekends could be spent in the city, at Brooke's own apartment, doing whatsoever she pleased.

This usually included shopping, with Brooke's maid Sharona accompanying her with all of Brooke's necessities for the day.

Brooke's raspberry-lacquered lips curved into a triumphant smile as she came across a sleeveless white blouse with a cute little bow-tie collar. She reached up and touched the tie on her own peach coloured sleeveless blouse - a Lanvin creation itself - and snapped her fingers. The blouse, she decided, would pair beautifully with the black textured pencil skirt that she'd just picked up at Opening Ceremony. Sharona reached out to pluck the blouse from where it hung - there was only one left in Brooke's size - when another woman reached out and grabbed the same size, giving Brooke a particularly catty grin as she did so.

Brooke recognized the girl immediately. Candida Archer. She'd been a former student at the Spence School, one of Woodbridge-Robillard's chief competitors and a girl that Brooke had particularly despised for a perceived slight done to her at her debutante ball.

Wordlessly, Brooke gave Candida that look. One which she'd perfected in high school, but one which she hadn't yet gained the ability to add her empathic powers to back then. Today, that was no longer the case. Brooke raised her chin ever so slightly, and her eyes narrowed just a little. She stood a little more taller, maintaining eye contact with Candida as she effortlessly manipulated the other girl into terror and subservience. The blouse was hers and Candida inexplicably felt inferior to Brooke. She rushed past the empath and out onto Madison Avenue.

Triumphant, Brooke handed the blouse to Sharona, who was already saddled with many other clothes that Brooke was purchasing from the shop that day. As she made her way to her favorite salesperson to make her purchases, Brooke faltered just a little bit. This is what Rachel was telling her about, what Rachel was warning her about.

A sociopath. Manipulating a girl's emotions for a blouse.

She froze for a moment as something akin to guilt started wriggling its way into her heart. No. She suppressed those feelings. It was the last blouse in my size. I was absolutely justified.

Still, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that it was true, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that it wasn't.