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"It means, like, the gift of Isis. People named Isadora have innumerable talents and admirable traits." She replied, reading from google. It was fun learning the meaning behind names. She's googled it a few times before. "Which is so true. I'm super talented." She knew she sounded egotistical and it made her laugh after hearing herself say it out loud.

Her mood took a slight turn when Cassandra focused on the texts. Isadora was doing her best to ignore them but there was a part of her that couldn't shake the ( what if ) scenario in her head. Like what if she doesn't do what the text said? Would there be consequences or was it all bullshit? "Some weird Instagram page with weird pictures messaged me and told me to copy one of my friend's computers and leave the flash drive at a warehouse on West Craven Street." She sighed and took a long sip from her wine because it was so needed. "I've been struggling on what to do... Like delete it or do it? It said they would kill her if I don't." Maybe now Cassandra would see why she was so paranoid.

Cassandra shrugged. "Everyone loves my pasta." And it was the truth. Her family, her friends, even her exes could all agree that Cassandra's pasta was one of their favorite dishes she had made them. And the girl wasn't timid to toot her own horn about it either. Cooking had always been one of her favorite pass times. She found it relaxing. Though it was both a blessing and a curse whenever she would stress cook or stress bake and end up with way more food than she herself could handle.

"Thanks." Reaching over to place the wine glass in front of Isadora she popped the bottle open and began to pour the red liquid in. "Isadora is a beautiful name, unique too. Does it mean anything?" Cassandra looked up at Isadora with a smile and went on to pour her own glass. Wait, was that an actual compliment? The comment about her being cursed made Cassandra laugh. "Interesting...But we'll see about that." Once she was finished, she put the bottle back into the fridge and began to get the ingredients out to make her sauce. She stopped and looked up at Isadora with furrowed brows once she mentioned the texts, her expression now much more serious. Cassie hadn't received any threatening messages as of yet and she hadn't heard about them either. "Creepy DMs?" She repeated. "Creepy how? What did they say?"

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"I work on the school paper at Westham and did a piece about her boyfriend and she got it pulled. Her boyfriend is a psychopath. I was doing the world a favor. When I found out she was working a shift here I couldn't believe it. Guess her clothes are knockoffs. Go figure." Isadora could tell Lucy was taken aback by everything she was saying but she always expects it. Isadora loved saying things to make people feel insecure or uncomfortable so she could learn to read them better. It was a great exercise for her future career as a journalist.

"I met him at a Westham party." She wondered how much she should say when it came to her friendship with River. On one hand, she'd love to get him in trouble but on the other hand, she didn't want Lucy to hate her just yet. She was having too much fun with their conversation. "He sold me some pot and I took down his number because there's not many local dealers around here. I mean, you do know he's a dealer right?" If Lucy wanted to, she could text River and surprise him by being here with his girlfriend. It would be hilarious. "Want me to text him? I'll ask him to meet me here for a dime of weed. We can all get to know each other better."

Lucy's smile faltered. She looked down at herself. Sure, her skirt was a little creased, and her mascara had definitely looked better a few hours ago, but she hadn't thought she looked too bad. Lucy made a mental note to pack her makeup next time she spent the night in the library. "It was just a long night I guess." The waitress brought Lucy's coffee over to the table. Lucy took the phone from Isadora so she could get a better look. "I've seen her before, not today though." Lucy crossed her fingers that Kendra wasn't coming in today, it sounded as if she wasn't in for a pleasant shift. She felt a bit taken aback by Isadora's attitude, but she wouldn't comment on it. Passivism helped you make friends a lot quicker. She handed the phone back. "What'd she do that warrants payback?"

"It's Lucy." Hearing that she knew River formed a lump in Lucy's throat. They hung out but Isadora didn't even know her name -- did River even mention her? She knew these worries were stupid. She trusted River. Maybe they weren't even that close. "How do you know River?" She said it with a sweet smile. An attempt to disguise her worry.

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Isadora looked up and smiled at Lucy but it was more of a reflex than genuine. "Sorry, thought you were the waitress." The other girl's clothes were fine, fashionable even, but Isadora still checked her out as if she were dressed like a staff member. Maybe it was the all-nighter she pulled on Adderall but she could definitely use a makeover. "I thought I looked horribly hungover, but compared to you I feel so hot, so sit down." Now her smile was genuine albeit bitchy. Leaning back against the red vinyl seat, she flipped her phone around to show Lucy a picture of Kendra Porter, a Westham student who works at the diner. "Have you seen this skank? I want to get a picture of her working here. She's been such a whore." It was safe to say Isadora hated her and wanted payback for something.

"Also, yes, I'm Isadora. The one and only. I know you're Lauren or Lisa. You go out with River." She's partied with River a lot. She vaguely remembers seeing Lucy at a few of the parties too but could be wrong. Her memory could be pretty shit when she's getting trashed which was a real shame for her major. She wanted to be a journalist and that meant staying sharp and focused.

Lucy loved Davey's. The jumbo sized cups of coffee and low lighting. She loved that it was always open and that her parents would never be caught dead there. So after an all night study session fuelled by Adderall, it was the perfect place to come down. Her eyes were wide as she approached the counter. "Black coffee, thanks."

As the waitress poured her a cup, Lucy turned to survey the diner. A trucker in the back corner, an old man chewing on oatmeal, and a blonde sitting in one of the booths. Isadora. Lucy knew her face from around town, running in the same circles with a lot of her friends. Maybe they could be friends too. So as she approached the booth, Lucy pinned back her shoulders and put on her brightest smile. "Hi! You're Isadora right?"

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"It's best to let loose and just have fun. No expectations. Before you know it the right guy will catch your eye and you'll catch his." Isadora wasn't a romantic, but she did believe there was someone ( or multiple someones ) out there for everyone. The best things in life come when a person least expects it. When it happens it'll happen. In the meantime: look hot, have fun, and party. "Why don't you tell me what you're hoping for. How will a boyfriend help?" Isa asked as she took the other blonde's hand and led her out to the dance floor. As the music pumped through the small crowd, she began moving her body to the sound, leaving enough space and energy for conversation.

Valerie offered the girl a quick smile before knocking back the shot. The other girl had an energy that Valerie could easily see pulling other people in. She was magnetic. A complete stranger, yet Valerie wasn't ready to pick up her things and simply walk away. Maybe it was her frustration with her no-show of a date. Maybe it was her innate desire to change something about how she went about her life. Or maybe it was something else entirely. "Okay, fine. I'm hot," she laughed. The bartender passed the next round of shots down the bar. "Probably. I haven't found a decent guy to date in like, forever. At this point I feel like it's a waste of time to even try." She picked up the second shot, contemplating Isadora's offer. "Yeah, sure, why not? I'll, uh... follow your lead."

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If they were in public, the sweater would certainly kill her. She would die of embarrassment. Isadora wasn't as bougie as she was when she lived in Atlanta, but the sweatshirt was as bad as it gets. "More jokes, ha-ha." If she were honest with herself she would admit that it was funny, but her ego was so inviolable she remained indelibly annoyed.

"Why are you so confident in your pasta? Are you like an inspiring chef or something?" One of the things she enjoyed about college life was how everyone was still finding themselves. Isadora didn't grow up wanting to be a journalist. That came later. Her original goal was to go to beauty school for cosmetology but after her brother's scandal in Atlanta and all the murders around Woodsboro and Lakewood, she fell into a rabbit hole of true crime and never climbed out.

"And my name's Isadora. Cassandra is a pretty name." Isadora took out her phone to google it. Cassandra is a feminine name of Greek origin meaning "shining upon man." This is a Latinized version of the Greek Kassandra—a name shared with a Trojan princess who was given the gift of prophecies by Apollo but cursed so that no one would believe her. "Well, google says you're cursed. No one will ever believe you. Which makes sense because I don't believe your pasta will be as good as you think it is."

She then perked up only to sink back into her seat when Cassie teased her with the wine. "I'm not scared. I'm just cautious. People around here are sketchy. I've been getting these creepy dms from this weird account. I just feel like something really bad is going to happen."

"It's just a shirt, it's not going to kill you. And its comfortable, trust me." Was all Cassie could say with the shake of her head. Cassandra pressed her lips together trying not to laugh at Isadoras discontentment with her shirt. "That's exactly what the last person who wore this shirt said just before they...Yknow." There was a pause before she added in a "Just kidding." It was amusing to Cassandra to play off the other girls dramatics. Taking the farfalle pasta box in her hand she begun to open it with one hand and pull a pot from her drawer with another. "You can hate me all you want but you'll love my pasta." After putting the pasta into a separate bowl and filling up the pot with water, she set the pot on the stove to boil. "Oh, I'm Cassandra by the way." She responded as she pulled a can of pasta sauce out of her cabinet and got to work. "I just realized I don't even know your name."

Walking over to her fridge Cassandra pulled out her favorite brand of red wine. One of the things that made life at least a little bit better after a long day. Especially this one. She placed the bottle on the counter and pulled out a wine glass. Cassie hesitated before she set down another one. "Do you want some or are you scared wine will kill you as well?"

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There was a time back in Atlanta when Isadora wasn't a total bitch. She was known for her academic achievements and her winning streak in tennis. She loved tennis, it started off as a mother-daughter thing but quickly changed when her mother got the hots for their instructor and started hanging out with him more than her. It put a lot of pressure on Isa and then after her brother got accused of killing one of his students, she became cold and the bitch everyone knows now.

"Okay." Is all she replied before Cassandra disappeared into another room with her shirt. In a way Isadora envied her composure and poise. She was the type of girl to grow into a prominent woman and succeed a bright future. Isadora didn't know what to expect from herself anymore. All the partying, drugs, and alcohol were starting to pave a path she never would have foreseen. Her only saving grace was her interest in journalism which she continues to put all of her free time into.

"Ew!" She laughed the moment the oversized shirt was presented to her. "What is this diabolical sin?!" Someone would have to be tripping on some hardcore drugs to think that a shirt like this was cute. The icing on the cake was the message on the front and the nightmarish graphic meant to inspire positivity. "Please tell me you're just fucking with me?" The only upside was how comfortable it felt in her hands. "Girl, pick my poison? You already picked it for me. This shirt will literally kill me." She slipped it on and pouts when it falls into place. It was soooo gross. "I think I literally hate you. Like you might just be my number one enemy." She sat down and pointed a finger at the Farfalle.

Cassandra laughed. She hadn't thought the comment came off as flirty but she found it funny that Isadora thought so. "I'll try my best to control myself." She responded sarcastically as they arrived at the front door. "Noted." After unlocking it and letting Isadora go inside first, she felt herself exhale relieved to finally be home after the day she had. Kicking her shoes off and locking the door behind her, Cassandra took the shirt from Isadora and walked into the kitchen to place her bag down. She didn't respond to Isadora's comment not wanting to speak about her mother. It already had her mind jumbled and she didn't wanna focus on something. "Shoot." She said beginning to folding Isadora's shirt. "Yes, it's called kindness. I take a lot of pride in it actually." And it was the truth. She'd especially felt the need to due to her familial surrounding. People made a lot of judgements about who Cassie once they put two and two together and most were actually surprised given the fact she didn't take after some of the behavior she'd been raised around. "Oh there definitely is. But there's no way I'm going to tell you." She said with a smile. "Be back in a sec."

Cassandra quickly turned the corner to go to her washing machine and tossed the shirt in. Thankfully she had a load she hadn't washed yet and added it in as well. Once the washing machine was on and running she went to her room to grab a shirt. "There you go." It was an oversized light purple shirt with a Made By Nelson graphic on the front." It's no Fendi or Prada but hopefully it'll do." Cassie had much nicer more expensive clothes but she figured Isadora might just want to be comfortable. "Okay, pasta time." Taking the pasta boxes out of the bag she placed them on the kitchen table in front of Isadora one by one. Fettuccine, farfalle, rigatoni and conchiglie. "Pick your poison."

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"You're not interrupting." Isadora could make friends with a rock. She was that outgoing. However her friend list was still limited because she could also be a bitch. If she clicks with someone she'll keep them around but if she doesn't then they'll know it. It could be her journalistic instinct to give everyone a fair shake before she either embraces or dismisses them. "I'm just checking my feed. I like to pretend they're my contestants and that only my opinion of them matters." She gives a smile, letting her decide whether or not she was joking. "Do you have Instagram?" Isa leaned forward and took a sip of her strawberry shake. "I'm Isadora, by the way. You can also call me Isa or Isador, but never Dora."

Davey's Diner was unusually packed for a Sunday Morning. Almost every booth was taken, which forced Mina into making new friends just so she could enjoy her order of coffee in peace. "I hope I'm not interrupting but is this seat taken?" She gestures to the empty spot across from her. "I promise, I won't disrupt whatever it is you're doing. It's like you won't even know I'm here."

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Brooke had a point. Why fish in a small and smelly pond when there were so many better alternatives in New York. "Okay lead the way." She loved that Brooke was taking charge. In the beginning it was always her leading. Brooke was really starting to grow and flourish on the Westside. It was beautiful to see. Once inside, she wrapped her arms around Brooke's shoulders from behind and leaned into her. The frat house was shameless. Everything was turned upside down and there were people fucking on the couch and in the kitchen. "You mean Kevin?" She hasn't seen him in a couple of days because he got into an altercation with River, but now River could rot in hell for calling her a whore. "Kevin is trouble, girl. His friends are no better." But she supposed that was the exciting part wasn't it? Therefore she shot Kevin a quick text. He replied within seconds saying he'll come pick them up with his friend Romeo. "Apparently he's with his friend Rome. I did some digging and found his insta. I can tell them forget it if you don't think he's hot. Personally I would fuck him."

"Beer pong?" She gets they're at a frat party but come on, ew. "The last thing I want is to breathe in someone else's beer breath." The more she thought about it, and the more she looked around, the more she noticed how slim their pickings actually are. "As fun as that sounds, I've got a better idea." Brooke grabbed both of Isadora's hands and led her through the living room. "Wanna get out of here and go someplace else? Surely, there's gotta be something better to do on a Friday night. What about your friend? The one you were caught fucking a week ago. Does he have any hot friends?"

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Never Goin’ Back dir. Augustine Frizzell (2018)

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"Stop flirting with me." Being called a brat was considered dirty talk. It was way more exciting than being a goody-good. Cassandra was too nice and if the social media stalker was a real threat then she would be the first to die since she's so inviting. "And if you happen to throw your nasty drink at me again it'll be so on. You'll be wearing your kitchen for a week." Once they were inside, she wasted little time removing her shirt. She held it out for Cassandra to take to the wash. "Your mom can be hot for all I know." Isadora was unbiased. Gender nor age mattered. As long as they were of legal age of course. "Can I ask you something?" Isa turned around and accepted the bottle of water. She twisted the lid and took a sip before taking a seat in the kitchen. "Are you always this nice? Like seriously. It's almost scary how unphased you are. There has to be something that makes you angry."

Though her brows rose slightly at the blonde insulting her she kept her cool. She assumed just by her attitude that Isadora was used to getting what she wanted. Probably fast too. "And you're a brat, but I'm sure that's nothing you haven't heard before. I hope so too. I wouldn't wanna spill my disgusting juice and my pasta on you in the same day since I'm such a klutz." She responded sticking one of her free hands in her purse pocket for her key. "At least green's your color though." She turned to look at Isadora momentarily flashing her an amused smile before pulling her key out of her bag and placing her finger through the ring of the key chain. "If you count my mother as hot then yeah totally." Cassie dug through her groceries in search of one of the waters she had bought herself earlier. It was hotter out than she thought, especially now the she didn't have her juice. She took one out for herself and put it under her arm before reaching in to get another and silently offering it to Isadora.

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new open starter ! davey's diner

Feeling under the weather due to a massive a hangover, Isadora went to Davey's for some comfort food. She couldn't get anyone to come with her but she wasn't in the mood for any major socializing anyway. The only company she needed was her strawberry shake and fries. Regardless of that, she stayed glued to her phone and social media, scrolling through everyone's posts and leaving likes while muttering unpleasant objections. "Ew. Boring. Gross. Cute dress, ugly face. No. No. Double no. Ew. Oh cute, but pathetic."

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Scoob! (2020)

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[NEW MESSAGE] LIFE IS ONE BIG PARTY. NOTHING MATTERS AS LONG AS YOU'RE HAVING FUN. COPY EVERYTHING OFF SAGE'S LAPTOP AND LEAVE THE USB AT THE OLD WAREHOUSE ON WEST CRAVEN ST. YOU HAVE 24 HOURS OR SHE DIES. NOW WE'RE HAVING FUN. —SCARFACE.

When her phone dinged with a new alert, excitement shot Isadora from her lazy position on the couch in the college's common room. She was hoping it would be an invitation to go do something fun but when her green eyes scanned over the ominous text her stomach dropped. There was no way this was real but could she chance ignoring it?

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What made him think she uses her tits to get money? Yeah, she has an OF but it was inactive.

She was never going to call the police, but something noticeable quickly changed between them. She thought they were just bantering and trading wit but the darkness pooling in his eyes left her with a nervous pit in her stomach. The pit grew into a fight or flight response after he slapped her phone out of her hand and shoulder checked her. "Ow! That hurt!" She stumbled back and froze in place. She's never been struck by a guy before and every alarm bell was going off inside her head but she couldn't move. It was like standing in the woods with a bear. Should she stand perfectly still and hope it goes away or run?

"Just take the money and go!" She rubbed her shoulder, looking from his foot on her phone to the wild glint in his eyes. "If you give me my phone back I'll leave."

"Equality as in not using your tits as a reason to get the money." He retorted. Just when Fenix thought he had his footing in the conversation she made a sharp left leaving him dumbfounded. The scare tactic had him infuriated. "Anyone who acts like you always has a record." He countered.

Everyone thought they were tough, even Fenix. The small difference between Fenix and a random stranger is that he will hurt anyone for fun. The drugs helped to keep him placated and mellowed out his mood. However, the thin veil that separated him from losing it was being tested. He refused to let anyone have the upper hand. Not because he was scared of the law or repercussion. That was never the problem. He didn't allow anyone to have the upper hand because they thought they wielded power over him. As if they were better than him. When in reality Fenix was a dormant villainous king.

Fenix moved quick slapping her hand that held the phone. As he moved in closer he shouldered her pushing her further back from the phone. Fenix's foot pressed on the phone in the grass, not enough to break it. He had enough pressure so she couldn't instantly pick it up. "Keep testing me." He warned.

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She wasn't expecting such a cruel response from River. She thought they were friends and merely wanted to hangout which is the only reason why she offered her help. She wasn't a whore and didn't like to be called one. It brought her back to what happened at summer camp when she lost her virginity and everyone nicknamed her Isawhorea. A couple of weeks ago she might have let it roll off her shoulders, but lately she'd been on a power trip with Brooke. She would be a hypocrite if she sat here and let some douche bag call her a whore and still be interested in him. Guys like River and Jake Fitzgerald needed to be taught a lesson.

"Well ouch. That hurt." Call it being a girl, but her eyes stung with emotion. She wasn't sure why she was being so sensitive when normally she wouldn't give a fuck. "I thought we were friends and wanted to hang out with you. That's it." She invites him to every party at Westham and never talks shit behind his back despite his sleazy reputation. Yet all he thinks of her is a whore that he can fuck behind his girlfriend's back. Well not anymore.

"You must have brain damage if you think you'll ever have me on my back again." She turned her hips and eased herself from the bar stool. She left money for her shot and cosmopolitan and then gave River the middle finger. "Call or text me again and I'll have you jumped and robbed. If you bother Brooke or come to Westham I'll have you jumped and robbed. And if I find a picture of me on your gross sex-gram I'll have you jumped and robbed. Get it? Got it? Good." She only managed to get a few steps away when the guy she was dancing with earlier came over and looked between them. "Are you okay?" He asked Isa before looking over at River. "I don't know. Am I okay, River?" She turned to look back at him.

"That's rich." He can't help but snort after being called a pussy. River was many things... unreliable, unfaithful, manipulative, sleazy. But he wasn't a pussy. Refusing to take her up on her offer had little to do with being scared. It was the fact that, although they slept together, that didn't mean he instantly trusted her. She was essentially agreeing to help with very little payment in return. There had to be a catch somewhere and he'd rather lay all their cards out now than be dealt a surprise hand later.

"I'm sure you're very good at whoring yourself out, Jazabel." Was it the nicest thing to say to her in the moment? Fuck no. It's probably the last thing she wanted to hear and could make her retract her efforts to do him a solid but, River suspected she probably liked being talked down to. Most girls did. Nobody gave a shit about the nice guys.

"Whatever. If you wanna help, be my guest. Just don't expect a cut. Though, if you're lucky I might be willing to reward our hard work with you on your back and me between those legs again." To insinuate what he would be willing to pay her with, River rolled his tongue over his teeth seductively, paying no mind to her bitter admirers in the corner. He couldn't give two fucks about anyone but himself or the hot piece standing in front of him. "What do you say? Those terms work for you or nah?"

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"Har har." She sneered, not at all humored by the girl's tragic attempt at playfulness. The entire situation was unfair. She ruined her shirt and then rejects every opportunity to make it right. Other than the grand proposal to go to her creepy house and be fed her disgusting pasta. The witch was mistaking her for Gretel. Isadora wanted to turn around and just drive back home. Its what her instincts were telling her to do but then her journalistic nature was begging her to find out more. "You're such a bitch." Isa sighed as she threw caution to the wind and decided to follow her home. She made sure to send a text to both Sage and Brooke just in case this weirdo murders her. "Let's hope your style is better than your balance." She meets her stride and walks with her side by side after sliding her phone back into her bag. "So who were you on the phone with when you were trying that very difficult task of walking and talking? If it were someone hot I could at least semi forgive you."

A helpless sigh escaped her lips. Cassandra was starting to regret buying herself a green juice at all today. This girl sure was dramatic. All she wanted to do was make some pasta, have some wine and enjoy the rest of her day in peace. Looks like that wouldn't be happening. She had the feeling no matter what she was going to say to this girl, it would be wrong. She raised a brow at Isadora's assumption. "Actually the guy with the knife only waits behind my door on Mondays and Saturdays so you're good." She deadpanned already knowing the girl wouldn't find it funny. "Not gonna happen, sorry." Though the blonde was demanding and very blunt something about it was amusing to Cassie. "Look, either you can stand here by yourself in the middle of the street or you can come over and you'll get a new shirt and my world famous pasts." She turned on her heels and began walking. "Your choice!" She called back to her making sure not to walk too fast in case she decided to follow."

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Isadora was beyond grateful for a friend like Brooke. Despite being outgoing and attending almost every party, she only had a few good friends and Brooke was one of them. "Now you're talking. I saw a few good choices playing beer pong. But we should make them come to us. Meaning, let's go dance and make everyone jealous."

open to: everyone

at some westham frat party

"Here's to getting drunk as a skunk tonight and hopefully finding someone hot enough to make out with." Not that Brooke needed any more problems in the name of boys but, this was college and they were supposed to be living it up. Maybe if she got wasted enough, she'd forget that everyone at her old school hated her and wished her dead.