Celestial (Celeste) Jewel Elizabeth DeJac"The one and only bitches."Age:
23 years oldGender: *checks pants*"Yup, female."Appearance: Personality:"Ah....fuck."
Celestial Jewel (or just Celeste for all you lazy people) was generally raised in a Catholic family, although she takes offense whenever people mention it to her. She can be described in plainest terms as a rebel, someone who chooses not to fit into any set of society's rules, and to be honest, doesn't want to. Her parents had hoped she would live a respectable life, go to college and earn a degree, that sort of thing as oppose to bar tending and performing on Friday nights. Celeste's dream was to become a rock star, the sort of person who traveled from place to place in a broken down trailer. So far, things haven't worked out that well for her, but she does manage. To most people her reckless attitude comes off as strange, almost worrisome.
Two years of depression changed her entire outlook on the life that her parents tried to raise her in, where you had to be perfect and "Miss Goodie Two Shoes". While all of the other girls went to parties and got in the pants of over a dozen men she stayed at home working on school work or writing poetry and lyrics to songs that would never make it on radio stations across the country. In an effort to make some friends, she joined silly little clubs like the Poetry Club, shying away from her Catholic School's Bible studies on a part of general disinterest. What was the point anyways? Obviously God was taking a backstage to this entire life business. "There is no God". Or so she had thought.
Her only friends in high school were a bunch of outcasts who dyed their hair in vibrant outlandish colors, pierced their eyebrows and nose, and listened to screamo in the dead of the night. Some of them discussed their own problems with her; a parent's divorce, domestic abuse, and abandonment issues. Some of the issues were also rather silly, such as a failed relationship. But she listened to them, they were the only company she had and she loved them. Eventually she branched out to different crowds of outcasts. Instead of coming home she hanged out with skaters at the park, skipping out on school with them and bringing her freak friends with her. Some of them had some connections and would bring cigarettes for them to "experiment" with as well as beer. The feeling of losing your mind felt wonderful to her, the feeling that you get when it didn't matter whether or not you did everything right. You could just let yourself loose. At the age of 15 she tried her first smoke. A few months later she became a regular mess.
However, she could feel her depression growing worse. At nights she rarely came home sober, with her parents demanding where she had gone. Once or twice she grabbed the kitchen knife whenever her parents weren't home, tempted to just stab herself in the throat. The case of this was simple, for it seemed like her large group was dwindling by the day. Everyone would either be committed to a hospital, forced to go through therapy, or moved away. One girl even had herself killed, Celeste couldn't even tell you the case of her death if you asked her. Some days she wondered whether she was next.
In the summer of her Junior year, at the age of sixteen, Celeste ran away, determined to escape her family's never ending influence, and the troubles at her school. She bought a bus pass that would last her a month with what money she had from her allowance. Almost automatically she found herself lost, wandering through the streets of San Francisco, thinking that her dreams of reaching Hollywood were close to hopeless. Broke and with nowhere to go, she stopped at an inn, begging for a place to stay. The inn's manager allowed her a room, as long as she would do work to pay for it. She hastily agreed, and started work right away, serving whoever stayed for the night dinner and drinks. It was there she became interested in the career as a bartender, watching some older employees wield the cup and ale like gods. It was a scene that would forever change her life. Later she would call her parents, apologizing for leaving home and making them worry. It was a very passionate conversation that was mostly yelling and screaming until both parties were nearly deaf. The next morning the devastated parents picked up their daughter and left without a word.
The shouts continued over the years. Celeste's parents attempted to forbid her from leaving the house and hanging out with her "friends". Celeste would claim that they didn't know a thing about her. She was her "own person" now, no longer "Miss Goody Two Shoes". Her home became a divided household. At night Celeste would blast loud rock music into the streets waking up neighbors. She announced to her parents that she was a bartender, a decision that was hard for them to swallow, though eventually they would come around.
Celeste started small, catering for public events such as school dances or the prom. Every day she checked cooking websites for new snacks to try out, working part time as a cashier at a grocery store. At the age of eighteen she applied for culinary school, staying in there for two years before dropping out at the age of twenty when she found that she could not afford it. For the following year she worked two jobs at different restaurants, mainly as a waitress or someone who worked at the window taking orders. There was a day or two where she would sneak into the kitchen, and try on the aprons of the kitchen staff before getting shooed off and told to mop the floor. She had her student loans on her shoulders, so she didn't have much of a living standard (it was bad enough she lived in California), and her parents had kicked her out two years ago. She might as well have lived on the streets. Her neighbor was an old drunk who would share beer with her as long as she kept on promising her a good time, but she soon grew tired of his whining and became disgusted with herself. A lot of her money was spent on cigarettes. It got bad enough where she could smoke two packs a day if she wanted to. In the purest of definitions, she was a hot mess. Spoiled, stubborn, and reckless. She didn't give a flying fuck what people thought of her. If the old drunk wasn't so disgusting, she probably would've made out with him in broad daylight just to see the look on the faces of the sun tanned "California girls". How she despised them. Often she caught herself ripping up magazines of Vouge
. Not many people approached her, for the fear of setting off her fiery passion. For a year she surrounded herself by a bunch of drunks and middle aged men with nothing to live for.
At the age of 21 she revisited the inn she stayed at five years beforehand, finally grown sick and tired of all the old drunks. Nothing seemed to change, and the bartender was still there. She asked for a drink, lying about her age, though the manager recognized her, despite her shorter hair and highlights. She began spilling out her woes, sipping at alcohol given to her out of sympathy until she drowned in it and began weeping. It was the man who suggested that she should go to bartending school.
Her dream reignited, Celeste set off to join the National Bartending School where she found a group of people filled with a spark of life she had never seen before. It was quite unlike anything she had ever seen before. These were actual people who had the same problems as her, the same life where they felt so confused, so unwanted, so scared. She had found her new family.
Walk inside the Stardust Night Club and you would find her, "The Star in the Sky" as her customer's call her. She would listen to their problems just as she had listened to her friends all of those years ago. And she will be determined to give you the support she was never given. You might see a slight tear in her eye every now and then. Think nothing of it.
It's just seeing you smile, there might be a God out there after all.
Call her any time you need someone to provide the drinks at a party, scream with you during the superbowl, have a smoke at the park, skateboard on the neighbor's lawn, or just plain go crazy. You know where she is. As long as there's a party, she'll be there.
Just...don't blame her if you wake up with no pants on.Godseed:
DionysusPowers:Thine cup runneth over:
You recieve a large iron jug that is filled with neverending wine.Theme(s):P!nk - "Raise Your Glass"
(Main)Ke$ha - "Blow"
(Secondary/Battle)P!nk - "Fuckin' Perfect"