Lenina Crowne
The Beta Beauty with Chemical Hues
A gramme is better than a damn, darling.
They made me to be happy, and for a long time, I was. Perfect hygiene, perfect poise, perfect little platitudes. Bernard was on the calendar, Henry was on the schedule, and everything was perfectly fine—until it wasn’t. There’s something about the Savage that won’t soma away, something in his eyes that smells like something real. And I don’t even like real.
What I'm Into: soma holidays, chemical roses, Henry’s predictable charm, the Reservation's rawness, John’s dangerous poetry
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