( JUST LIKE HOLLYWOOD )

[JLHadmin]

( JUST LIKE HOLLYWOOD )

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b u t l a c e d i n s i c k

Wake up. You’re not in Hollywood anymore.

Welcome to Manhattan, where silver must be platinum and posh is never quite posh enough. The only way you’re going to survive it here is if you’ve got money—if not, you better have drugs.

The social classes have been split into categories to suit the fractions of the city’s finest or, just as respectively, worst.

At the top of the food chain is the ever-ravishing Elite, whose glamorous lives consist of constant parties and cash flow. They own everyone below them, despite being distracted much of the time with the drama within their own group.

Then there are the Wannabe’s, who stalk the Elite relentlessly to study their every move. As their name suggests, they want to be just like the Elite in every sense palpable. Usually they’d never have a chance, but with the Elite so broken in their social lives, the Wannabe’s are rising in power—and quickly, too.

After the Wannabe’s are the Sluts, who are, as appropriately dubbed, rather slutty in their own rights. The Sluts all have some sort of sexual compulsion that puts them on the love drug—no, not ecstasy. Sex. Sex is their name and sex also happens to be their game. If you run into a Slut downtown, don’t expect to be coming home empty handed. Or empty in any sense, for that matter.

Below the Sluts come the Crims, short for Criminals. The Crims are the baddest of the bad. In this city, you can only be a Crim if you’ve at least robbed a bank or shanked a stranger. Otherwise, you might just end up being another one of their mysteriously-in-short-supply victims. My advice is to stay away at all costs.

Even lower on the scale are the Junkies, who are notorious for their connections with the scandalous Elite. The Junkies aren’t your average potheads. Oh, no. They only do the hard stuff. If you’re not a full blown narcotic, they won’t accept you at all. Then again, who’s even going to notice you’re there? They’ll be too high and dry to notice.

Finally, last and very, very least are the Rejects. The Rejects are social outcasts and, furthermore, life embarrassments. They’re the outsiders and loners of the city, come together to sulk another day away in the dank alleys behind Tiffany’s. The Rejects are often killed off, but no one really knows why. I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.

Now that you know the game, know the rules. Manhattan is a place of impeccable standards, classy etiquette, and, of course, groundbreaking scandal. If you must cause a scene, make it hot, please.

Who am I? Well, that's for me to know and NYC to never find out.

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