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Yasmin Tremaine

"Sunglasses, purse.....lollipop. Now I'm ready to turn up!"

0 · 386 views · located in Las Vegas

a character in “Las Vegas: Skin City”, as played by Jaybt9


ImageYasmin TremaineImage



Full Name:
“Yasmin Mercedes Tremaine Vasquez. Sounds lovely, and I’m glad my fabulous parents named me that. My mom wanted some entitlement with Vasquez in my name.”

“Yazzi. Only one that calls me that is my cousin, Javier. If he isn’t the corniest guy in the world. My girlfriends also call me “Lollipop”. They always see me with a Charms Lollipop in my mouth.”

“A lady never reveals her real age……But unfortunately we have laws involving teenagers doing that, so I’ll tell you anyways. I’m 17.”

“You really asked me that?”


“You could almost call me a Spicy mixture. My mother is a full-blooded Latina from Puerto Rico. My dad is half-Cuban and half African-American. Everyone can’t tell of any Cuban overtones on him, because my dad is pretty Americanized.”

Head, Hair:
“Black with curls out of this world. I love sprouting curls. It makes my presence stand out a lot. Sometimes I’ll straighten it, but they’ll end up curling on its own. With how my hair is, I have to take some good care of it. Humidity and heat can be a drag when it comes to taking care of black, thick hair.”

Face, Body:
“A tall 5’8” with a skinny frame, but curves on all the right places. Okay, maybe not curves since I hardly even have a behind. My skin is medium toned and smooth like silk. My eyes are dark brown and my lips are plump enough to kiss softly.”

Scars, Tattoos, Piercings, etc.:
“No battle scars and tattoos unfortunately. Only things I have are piercings. Two on my ears. That other stuff is too extra. I can’t see how my cousin can bear with them.”

“Clothes. I like to consider myself to be a fashionista, or more like try to be. Sunglasses, dresses and cutoff shorts are what you’ll likely see me in. Showing my legs for everyone to see, and envy over. Don’t care too much about clothing brands. Just as long as they look great.”


What I think of myself:
“A badass party girl with the heart of gold and addiction to junk food. That’s all I need to say about that one. (laughs)”

What my friends think of me:
“Not sure what my girlfriends think of me, but one of them has said that I balance between “a wild night in the town” and “the porch girl with a gossip, marijuana, and a good time.”. I have to agree with her. Wherever we party, we party like there is no tomorrow. I just dance in my fabulous dress until I am 10 pounds lighter and actually able to fit what I’m wearing.”

My friends also tell me that I’m honest and like to give the real deal Holyfield. Even if it hurts them when I say it, they learn from it in the long run. Why must I be the Love Counselor to them, when I don’t even have a boyfriend? It’s like Waiting to Exhale in Las Vegas. Nothing but men hating and the excitement of being alone.”

What my family thinks of me:
“Being the oldest between me and two boys can be stressful, and my mom and dad put that pressure on me sometimes. They think that I should set an example, setting the boys’ naïve habits straight, but I’m a young girl. What can I do to make that happen? I can’t share insight, because I’m not so wise beyond my years either.

But there is a reason they think this way. I’m independent. Able to overcome my own battles, or maybe it’s because I haven’t been asking them for much lately. Not one thing from the mall. This job as a cashier at the local supermarket might have something to do with that, but my dad used to like spoiling me as a child. I’m surprised he isn’t worried about me not relying on him for shit.

Only thing is that I haven’t told them about many things: Javi’s sexuality, our smoking and drinking habits. Seeing them lose their lids would be the least of our troubles. Mom had always told us that doing drugs and drinking alcohol was the worst thing anyone could do. Too bad me and Javi never listened, but at least it’s marijuana and alcohol. Not the hard things like cocaine and meth. I’ll be damned if my face ages three times more than my actual age itself.

“My brother Jose doesn’t think much of me now. We haven’t bonded as much as used to, since he’s in his own world now, playing football, living the freshman life as a teenager becoming a man. Already having a girlfriend too? Mhm. Okay, I’ll tell you all that I have no animosity towards my little brother having a girlfriend. Just want to know who the little bitch is. (laughs). Jose likes to get on my nerves though.”

“My cousin Javi though thinks that I’m the greatest thing since rainbows and unicorns. (laughs) I feel hella bad for him though. Behind that million dollar personality, there’s something that he wants resolved. Love? With him sneaking to his boyfriend’s apartment all of the time, that may be it. Maybe it’s his curiosity to find out who his parents are. I want to be the one where he can tell anything if he fears telling my parents. Now I have to check Javi’s fast ass every once in a while.”

“Oh, and one more person. My little Mimi, who thinks I’m the greatest person alive. (laughs)”

“Straight as a board.”

Relationship Status:
“Single, and loving every millisecond of it. I had a boyfriend once, until he cheated on me with some floozy. From that moment on, I thought to myself “Why the hell invest my young years with some egocentric man when I have my own present and future to worry about?” Well. I’m not going to lie. Whenever I see a cute guy, I have no qualms with flirting. Maybe if the right guy comes along, I’ll get back to dating.”

“Just living the single life. That’s all there is to it.”

Favorite Color:
“Purple is my favorite. So vibrant and classy. If I could, every clothing, and object I owned would be purple, like how Lisa Raye has everything white in her closet.”

Favorite Food, Drink:
“My favorite food should be pretty obvious by now. Sweets, especially Lollipops. It’s like a fetish that developed at age 3. You should see my room. I have a huge plastic bowl full of Charms Lollipops. One lollipop always makes my day complete, even if it ends up bad.”

“My favorite drink goes to Smirnoff. They should get an award for how their drinks taste. Sweets and alcohol put together in one bottle.”

Favorite Music:
“Urban music, of course. I don’t care if it’s mainstream or not. My mother introduced me to reggae, and salsa, and I must say that it’s very pleasant to the ears, and my rhythm. My father tries to introduce me to Jazz. Such a Jazz fanatic.”

Favorite Places to Go:
“Parties. All of them. House parties, street parties, any kind of party. Even clubs if I knew how to sneak my way in.”

Favorite Person in the World:
“Wow, that’s a good one. I don’t really have a favorite individual. I just love my family regardless of the shit we go through sometimes. Hell, I even love myself and the life I’m living.”

Least Favorite Color:
“Green and brown, two of the blandest colors anyone could ever witness. The fact that you step on those colors everyday say a lot about them."

Least Favorite Food, Drink:
"Least favorite food is onions. Smell bad, taste bad. Even my eyes can’t take the sight of cooked onions.

My least favorite drink goes to grapefruit juice. My first experience with that mess was an interesting one. Spit that drink right out when I took my taste buds encountered that monstrosity.”

Least Favorite Music:
“That country music. Never really cared for it.”

Least Favorite Places to Go:
“Used to be school, but this job has me encountering some of the most dramatic, snobby adults in the universe. Why am I still working as a cashier? (sighs)”

Least Favorite Person in the World:
“Many. I don’t want to give them fame, so I’m going to keep it cute and not say their names.”

Quirks and Habits:
“Let someone take a lollipop from my room without asking. I get an instant twitch over that. Jose loves to do that because he knows that it irks the hell out of me. Too bad I can’t argue. I’d love to though.”

“I fear death above all things. I know that death is coming for me and all of those around me. I just hope that it isn’t soon.”

Other Facts:
“I can speak some Spanish. Not as good as my mother. I’m still learning though.”


“Alexandra Vasquez and Antony Tremaine. I don’t know how they met, but they married and gave birth to one fabulous lady here in Las Vegas…..and Jose three years later. (laughs)

I was born and raised a girl in barrettes and dresses. Oh, those teachers couldn’t handle me at the day care we went to. I was a diva, strutting around like Naomi Campbell and talking like crazy to them. Then I went to 1st grade. I barely remember the phone call that early September day, but I know that my mother spent the entire night crying. I couldn’t understand why she was crying until we went to a church. Black clothing everywhere in sight. I had to wear a black dress too.

Everyone was crying, but I sat there confused. That was until I looked at the white casket near the podium. A light skinned woman who looked so serene laying there. As if she was in a better place. With how young I was, I thought she was sleeping. That day I asked my mother who that was. She said, “It’s my sister, Anastasia. Your aunt.” I didn’t know anything about my aunt, or death, so I wasn’t grieving as much as everyone else.

That day, I also met Javi. I remember that little guy in his tuxedo. My grandmother next to him. He stood up to the casket, tip toed to see his mother in front of him. Phew, thinking about now is making me cry.

A month later, my parents decided to adopt Javi. You should have seen that guy in the daycare. Acting a damn mess. The teachers could handle me and Jose, but Javi? Phew, he was always causing trouble. On top of that, he was bullied relentlessly, but I had to keep those fools in check.

I spent my elementary school and middle school watching over my brother and cousin. Jose wasn’t so bad. Had to keep those little hoes away from him and that was it.

But enough about them. This is about my history isn’t it? I can’t say much because it’s still being written. My days of adolescences hasn’t passed by just yet, and I’m ready for every obstacle facing me, whether it’s a man, college, or just being older. The life I live now is….decent. Could be better, and I know it will be better.”

So begins...

Yasmin Tremaine's Story


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#, as written by Jaybt9
2:30 pm

The minute seemed like it was never going to arrive to the present time period. A six hour shift as a restaurant cashier came with three consequences: hard labor, extreme sense of tedium, and the tiled ivory-complected flooring full of concealed tacks that caused pestering pain to one's heels after standing for long periods of time. Even worse, work began in the morning time, on a weekend. While Friday was the day that ended with the nightlife and addiction to dancing and alcohol so Saturday morning could be spent relieving the energy they lost, one individual was an unfortunate exception, having to sleep after midnight and waking up 6 in the morning with not enough zip.

Who was this individual? A young Afro-Latina with ebony black curls that accentuated more edge than the Lion from the Wizard of Oz. Even worse, her nonindulgent boss commanded her to wear a ponytail, not providing any fluff and body that she loves to strut in public with her natural hair. The girl figured she could make the best of this irritating rule by fastening her hair in a high ponytail. Curls flowed like lava over her ears to the top of her jawline.

Even with her hair styled up, she still looked a slothful mess. She rushed to work in the morning, forgetting completely about wearing makeup. The lack of sleep caused dreary, emotionless eyes. Even customers threw shade, comparing her eyes to a raccoon, concluding with a smile, but the girl's skull was not dense. She knew what trick they were trying to pull. A bunch of morning birds and roosters with no social life trying to put cashiers and other minimum-waged workers below their level. Thankfully a large cup of Vanilla Latte from Starbucks prevented her from knocking her forehead onto the scanner in front of her.

But the busy hours were finally finished, and the girl couldn't take any more seconds of it. After a middle-aged brunette took the register over her, she rushed with impatience around the many customers to the customer service area adjacent to the automatic entrance, clocking out with her timestamp. An alleviating grimace striking her face.

“Hey, Yasmin....”

That wakeless delivery in tone. The girl's moment of joy and peace, ruined in two words. This coffee skinned girl must have been Yasmin. The silver nametag pinned on her red work short was also the indicator. Her lungs forcefully pushed air out of her glossy lips, before she turned her whole body. A middle-aged Caucasian man with short dark brown hair. Layers of bangs combed away from his eyes. He had many clips of black hair along his chin and under his nose. The stubble look was used to have his casually rough demeanor overshadowed by his professionalism. This man was her manager. “Paul the Party Killer” for short.

“Would you be able to work tomorrow morning? Kim called this morning saying that she was still sick and won't be able to go to the doctor until Monday.”

Kim was as worse of a liar than Pinocchio on a polygraph. A short blond-haired football mom who liked to wear any trends rebellious adolescents were wearing: cutoff jeans, high ponytails, and cowboy boots. Of course, this was whenever she wasn't working.

Not to mention her skin. She tanned more than the entire population of New Jersey. She usually missed work to have her rest in the tanning bed. Yasmin knew the real reason she wasn't working. To recover from oversleeping in the tanning bed, causing her shoulders and back to burn and peel. These were words according to one of the other co-workers. Yasmin never understood why women and men went all of the way just to tan their skin. The possibilities of skin cancer were enormous from tanning beds. Even magazines like to promote light fair skin on women.

Yasmin, however, wanted rather spend her Saturday night strolling around the illuminating world than sleep early and work because of Kim being clumsy.

“Sorry, Paul.”, Yasmin replied with a shrug of the shoulders “I have to get my English paper done by Monday.”

The easiest lie in the book, and managers always fell for it, or at least towards students. Yasmin did not want to miss the Electric Daisy Festival, and needed any opportunity to spend the night hanging out with friends and wanting her body to be controlled by the word “Fun”, which work was not even close to achieving.

“Maybe I'll make up for it next time. Hasta Luego.”, Yasmin added with a concluding wave before exiting towards the double automatic doors. With her back turned, she rolled her eyes and gave out a disappointing sigh. She thought about slapping herself on the face. She should have just left her lie at that, but it was too late. With her last sentence, her manager was going to take that into consideration the next weekend, when she might actually have a paper to write.