Name: Brooklyn Adore Carter
Age: 19
Language: ENGLISH
Status: Single
Mindset: Naive, Shy, and kind hearted to a fault, bad memory.
Race: Creole/Italian
Weakness: Bad Boys

Brooklyn Adore Carter was born and raised in Greenwich Village New York. Her parents were child hood sweethearts who met and fell in love at Coney Island in Brookly (hints her name). Although her parents were extremely wealthy Brooklyn Was raised in an upper middle class neighborhood. It was her fathers way of "keeping his family humble". She still attended private schools on the upper east side, had never worked a day in her life, and wanted for absolutely nothing. Her father was a stock broker or investor of some sort and her mother had an art gallery. Her childhood, from what she could remember, was pretty lonely. She had little family in NYC other than her parents. Her mother, a creole woman, was from Louisiana. And her father had come to NYC from Italy with his father and brother as a child. Her tiny family consisted of her parents, her Grandfather Juliano, her uncle Cris, and her imaginary twin sister London Amor Carter who her parents told her she'd made up out of sheer loneliness. But that's what only children do right? She didn't remember much of her childhood anyway prior to the age of 11. Her memory was foggy that way. She could remember bits and pieces but not somethings. For instance she has no recollection of getting the tiny scar behind her left ear when she was 8 visiting her grandmother down south over the summer. She didn't remember ever having visited her grandmother for that matter. But she remembered her imaginary sister. She'd been her best friend until she was 10 and her parents didn't find the imaginary friend bit cute anymore. As far as she could recall, the only time her mother had ever raised her voice at her was for bringing up London. She was sent therapy shortly after and London became a distant memory. It was only then that she'd started to make real friends. Bren, Fiona, and Paige her partners in crime. Although they were never allowed to come over. Her parents never had company either. Only Uncle Cris and Poppi had ever been inside the house. Her papa said it was Italian tradition, home was for family. Brooklyn was a daddy's girl at heart and her father's word was gold. She never disobeyed him. Except for the "Don't leave Manhattan" rule. Which she'd broken once to meet up with friends she at coney island. She was an honor student and a well behaved girl. Although she loved the party life like the rest of her friends she'd never tried drugs and had only gotten drunk once.
Brooklyn's life was perfect as far as she was concerned. She'd taken a year off of school after graduating to figure out what she'd wanted to do with her life. And she'd had just registered for the upcoming fall semester at NYU.
Then one morning her mother ordered her to pack her things. She'd informed Brooklyn that she and her father were having problems and they she and Brookyln were going to stay in Louisiana for a while. Brooklyn was shocked and confused. Just the other day her parent's were cinderella and Prince Charming. Her mother didn't waste anytime. They were on a plane by evening. She hadn't gotten to say goodbye to anyone. Not even her father. Her mother said he'd up and gone to Italy in the middle of the night. Confused, hurt, and angry Brooklyn was thrust into a brand new life completely opposite her own. She hadn't heard from a soul back home aside from her father who'd sent postcards every week for the first 3 months and then they'd stopped altogether. Where were Uncle Cris and Poppi? Why didn't her friend ever answer her phone calls? It was almost as if they'ed never existed. Kind of like London. Things started to get hazy. Her memory had always been poor. She'd tried her hardest not to forget. Not to forget them. Not to forget him. Had they forgotten her? Had he forgotten her? He probably hated her by now. leaving the way she did. She'd called him and gotten through only once. She'd used the phone in Dr. Calvert's office. Although she couldnt remember the conversation. Dr. Calvert was her therapist from home. Mom thought it best to fly him in.....

Post cards started coming from Uncle Cris and Poppi. Still nothing from her dad. And nothing from.... she couldn't remember who else.

She still didn't fit in here. Almost everyone were druggies. She spent most her time alone in the library trying to remember anything she could. She knew there was something that she needed to do. Someone out there who needed her. But she just couldn't remember. All these foggy memories that never happened and familiar faces she'd never know locked in her brain. What was going on?

Will this New York Glam brat get sucked into the gritty streets of Black bottom?

Will she ever regain her memory???

Something isn't quite right....

Will she figure it out before it's too late?