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Post by PARIS CHOU on May 12, 2013 12:02:05 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:00. speech: paris. notes: this dress in these colours. Spring had most definitely sprung in the City of Angels, and where better to reap the benefits than the botanical garden? Paris had been meaning to go for a while. Well, in the same way that he’d been meaning to clean his room for the past few months. It just kept slipping to the bottom of his to-do list. So, when the invitation to do a shoot down at the gardens had hit his inbox, Paris had accepted almost faster than he could spell-check the reply.
The photographer was a student Paris had worked with before: British graduate studying abroad, second generation Italian, with a smoking hot Spanish boyfriend often in tow that Paris wished he could get his hands on—but we digress. He was working on his final project for school, having teamed up with a few other students in fashion and design. The theme was Alice in Wonderland… with a twist. The boys dressed up in the female roles, the girls in the men’s. Paris was sure it was all very deep and symbolic but quite frankly, he was excited for the clothing.
Having been relegated to the Queen of Hearts, no doubt thanks to the hair, Paris got to reap the benefit of a wildly theatrical costume. It wasn’t the highest budget affair, which meant less than fantastic overall quality of fabrics and such, but damn the girls in clothing design had out done themselves. The dress as a whole was gorgeous, and despite not being runway material, it’d photograph perfectly well, which was all that really mattered. It had taken Paris an age to get into but now that he had a moment to preen alone in the mirror, he was pleased as punch. He did look the part if he dared say so himself; his tiny frame corseted into nonexistence in an ocean of gathered tulle. Straight-backed in deep blood reds and sultry black, he definitely felt more intimidating than usual and the thought gave him a happy little shiver. It was just like slipping into character for a play… only with far better costumes.
Now, the only thing that could sour his high was the fact that this was a partnered shoot; a fact nobody had deemed fit to actually tell him before he’d arrived first thing after school. There was a titular Alice in Wonderland who had yet to make his appearance. Needless to say, Paris was a little miffed. I mean, what if his partner was cuter than him? More stylish? More experienced? Smoothing away his pout in the mirror, Paris took a breath. “Alright Paris, none of that, don’t give yourself wrinkles. You’re going to knock ‘em dead,” he told his reflection with a slap of his cheeks. “The show must go on!”
With the time left before the shoot, what he might as well do was go suss out the competition. There was only one spotlight, after all, and it most definitely belonged to him. Snapping a quick selfie for instagram, Paris flounced off to find his Alice with chin held high. What was it Charlize Theron had said? Shoulders down, neck long, think murder, and walk! |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on May 12, 2013 14:23:33 GMT -8
| H ead held high and strappy stiletto heels clacking on the pavement, Kittim sauntered his pretty little self through the botanical gardens. He wasn’t there to sight see, yet his eyes still wondered around in an attempt to take in all the beauty around him. Powder pink blossoms spilled from the arms of trees towards the lush green carpet of grass. Expanses of water shimmered in the shafts of sunlight glaring down on it. Water did weird things when he was near it, however, so he was sure to avoid walking too close.
Nature was pretty and all, but he had heads to turn and a spotlight to shine under. It was about time someone noticed his looks—took them long enough! Honestly, it was about time. After putting a bit of distance between himself and any body of water, he steered himself towards the shoot. Kittim was disappointed with how small the whole affair was yet modeling was modeling. He could be happy with flaunting his stuff in the eye of a flashing camera. It meant he was finally making his way.
Kittim flicked the fingers of blonde hovering just over his shoulders. Besides, the dress he fitted into upon his arrival was absolutely beautiful. Despite being fairly simple (in his opinion) number of ruffled, tiers in pale blue fabric accented with lace, it looked extravagant on him. A band of lace and ribbons even gave him the illusion of curves. He could do without the headband but he wasn’t about to complain. When he was a big time model, then he could complain all he wanted.
The blonde was admiring himself in his dress when he caught sight of a red haired figure from the corner of the mirror. He turned to greet them, assuming from the dress that meant they were also in the shoot. “Looking for something?” The boy in a dress questioned with a cordial smile. The other boy’s dress may have been fancier but he was hardly anything as stunning as Kittim—at least that was what he thought. Kittim’s ego was pretty inflated. “I’d be happy to help you out.”
note: kittim's wearing this. |
LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on May 12, 2013 18:22:05 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:00. speech: paris. notes: this dress in these colours. Well, Paris’ venture certainly hadn’t taken him far. All the better, really— this dress was an absolute nightmare to move around in, as he’d quickly discovered; especially when he had to gather it up in both hands to keep it from trailing along the ground and gathering dirt. He felt like the ballerina teetering on top of a music box tip-toeing around like this in his high heels. Thank god he’d been rescued.
The boy before him seemed to be typical modelling fare: average height, slender, tow-headed and pretty. Cute… but not as cute as him. “Actually,” Paris purred happily. “I think I just found it. Hello Alice~” Eyes dropping over the blonde’s ensemble, Paris was pleased to find that it wasn’t half as elegant as his own. He couldn’t help preening smugly, twirling a bright bubblegum lock around his finger. “Aren’t you just darling. I’m Paris, by the way. Mind if I crash your party?”
Before the other boy could extend his no doubt gracious acceptance, Paris had plunked himself down in the makeup chair next to the mirror, legs folded primly in a way that made his skirts cascade expertly around his legs to gather on the floor in a delicate pool. Not an awkward ruffle in sight. “So, no offence, but your… well, your everything, is just screaming fresh meat at me, so I have to ask—is this your first gig? I definitely haven’t seen you around before; not that that means a hell of a lot. People come and they go. It’s hard to keep track, but if you’re having any trouble I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes.” With a smile that could have charmed the pants off a convicted felon, Paris leaned forward, chin in hand. “We have some time to kill before the shoot anyway. Tell me allll about it… starting with your name, actually. What was it again?”
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on May 13, 2013 16:04:58 GMT -8
| T he bubblegum haired teen—introducing himself as Paris—stalking around in his gown earned his attention for the moment. Honestly, Kittim was confident that he would pull that dress off better than Paris could. He still looked as fabulous as ever in his own. That gaudy queen had nothing on him. Few were on Kittim’s level when it came to looks—in his opinion anyways. Kittim was ready to shine like the brilliant sun he was, dazzling all the competition. He paused. What?
Golden fringes drooped in the view of the once bright, gold-colored discs, darkening them under the intricate shadows. Was this kid serious? He was either taking his role or himself way too seriously. Kittim was about to give him a reality check. The boy-in-a-dress wasn’t going to let some overdressed brat walk all over him, especially not because he was new on the scene. Mr. Thinks-He’s-Queen had a lot to learn if he thought he could waltz in and talk down to him.
He lived through things more terrifying than a kid with a bad haircut and an even worse attitude. That Wannabe-Queen-of-Hearts was going to learn that this Alice wasn’t someone to toy with. “What a shame. All the makeup in the world couldn’t improve that uncute face any. Pity. They tried their best.” He positioned himself opposite the pinkette, leaning slightly on the vanity. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much makeup can do for that personality of yours.”
A smirk played on his lips as he brushed hair from his shoulder. “My name’s Kittim. It’s a good idea to remember it. I will be bigger than you ever were.” This gig would be his time to show his stuff. Although it was small and hardly what he hoped for, it was one step in the climb to fulfill his dreams. It felt good to finally be making progress after almost losing both his looks and his life a little more than a week ago. No one was going to take the spotlight from him.
note: kittim's wearing this. |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on May 13, 2013 20:02:03 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:00. speech: paris. notes: this dress in these colours. If it were possible for a jaw to make an audible sound as it hit the floor, Paris’ would have created a sonic boom. He flushed to his hairline, eyes comically wide. Excuse me?, he wanted to scream. Who the hell do you think you are? It was only with herculean effort that he managed to keep his claws sheathed. Check yourself before you wreck yourself and all that, but oh… This was not happening. Oh no. This half-bit drag queen was so not giving him attitude right now. Especially not in that dress, with that hair.
He looked like a dishrag straight out of Little House on the Prairie, and that atrocious cowlick was just the icing on the cake. Paris had tried to be nice about it but apparently the other boy was hell-bent on throwing that boundless good will back in his face. At least the hair and makeup crew had had the good sense to pin the blonde monstrosity down with a hairpiece. Paris was sure the whole ensemble might’ve suited someone else… Someone smaller, maybe. Cuter, definitely. But he supposed it wasn’t the poor designer’s fault they’d given her this tactless cow to dress. Paris might have laughed if he weren’t so livid. This guy, bigger than him? In his dreams maybe.
“Oh, I’m sure you will be,” he said sweetly. “You’re already halfway there from the looks of it. What is that dress, like a ten?" He slipped off of his perch, taking great care to brush the tiny hairline wrinkles from his costume. Some things were just not meant to be taken sitting down. “You seem to be a little bit confused about the concept of newbie. So let me give you some expert advice, Kit-kat. Whatever brand of ugly I’m rocking is obviously working out better for me than that redneck RuPaul travesty you’ve got going on. What are you, blonde from a bottle? Please.” Flicking a glossy lock of hair over his shoulder derisively, Paris wrinkled his nose. “I’m not surprised it took you this long to find your first shoot. With a face like that, you’ll be sagging with wrinkles by the time you get your next callback so soak it up while you can.”
If Kittim wanted to start something, Paris wasn’t about to deny him the privilege. He was never one to back down from a challenge. This was his shoot, he had seniority, and if the other boy wanted to throw a hissy fit about it, Paris could only hope that he chose a moment when the cameras were rolling. |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on May 13, 2013 21:15:57 GMT -8
| C ompliments had a way of being taken in to feed his ever growing ego, but insults? They went in one ear and out the other with this skirt wearing teen. His seven sisters—Alyssa especially—had assured to that. Under their constant praises and doting, he came to only listen to every single comment made towards how lovely he was. Kittim craved acknowledgement of his looks even more now that he’d gotten them back. He made every effort to preserve his beauty.
If Paris thought a little venom would make him cower with his tail between his legs than he was sorely mistaken. The spoiled teen model with the bad dye job clearly didn’t know Kittim Curtis. “Did I strike a nerve?” He inquired as he examined his freshly manicured nails. “Taking a jab at my height? What’s wrong? Do you have some kind of height complex? That’s so uncute. Look at how red your face is. I’d say it matched your hair, but I’m pretty sure that tacky dye job isn’t your natural color.”
Once he was sure each nail was as pristine and perfect as they were when he first had them done, he crossed his arms across his chest. “My hair, on the other hand, is 100% natural. My eyes too. Your looks are as synthetic as the rest of you.” Calm in the face of the fuming teen, Kittim held his head high and stood tall. Paris could throw all the hateful words he wanted at Kittim’s deaf ears, but nothing sort of a physical assault would harm him. Of course, there was no way Queen Bee would do that.
The Queen was going to be dethroned by cute little Alice. It was his time to strut his stuff in the dazzling limelight. Heck, he would be impressive than any light. “You seem to like giving it out well enough so I’m sure you can shut your mouth and listen to two pieces of my advice.” Kittim paused as if giving the words time to sink in. “One, if you have nothing nice to say, just don’t talk. And two, you may get away with bullying other ‘newbies’, but I’m not someone you should mess with. So make note of it.” |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on May 14, 2013 18:43:00 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:00. speech: paris. notes: this dress in these colours. Paris balled his hands into little white fists at his sides, looking for a moment as though he were about five seconds away from stomping his foot on the floor like a pre-teen girl. Ooh! This boy was a piece of work. If only he were the real Queen of Hearts, it could have been off with Kittim’s head and that would be that!
The blonde hadn’t struck a nerve. Oh no, Paris knew he was cute. From the time he was four and five years old he’d had people absolutely falling over themselves to tell him what an adorable baby he was, what a pretty child, what a gorgeous teen. Praise for his looks was just the background noise of Paris’ life. He’d come to expect it. One jealous try-hard wasn’t going to make so much as a dent in the Hindenburg of an ego that had created. What was obnoxious was Kittim’s total lack of deference to, or even acknowledgement of, that superior beauty. Well, superior everything, actually. Talking to him was proving to be about as maddening as trying to have a conversation with someone who insisted that the sky was orange. The boy was just hell-bent on being rude, but there was no way Paris was going to let him use that to get the upper hand. Kittim wasn’t the only drama queen in the room, after all.
“A bully?” he gasped with mock hurt. “Me? Kitten, I’m wounded. I think you bruised the single fuck I have to give about your opinion.” With a coy pat of Kittim’s cheek, Paris brushed past him on his way to the gardens. “Lucky for you, I don’t make a habit out of taking advice from classless nobodies, so no harm done... Now, they should have everything set up soon. Shall we do this shoot like civilised people? Professionalism one-oh-one, sweetheart. Try to keep up~”
In truth, Paris wasn’t too concerned about their little spat. Everything about this shoot was stacked in his favor. He had the talent, the experience, and the connections; the photographer loved him… Kittim wasn’t just pissing off a potential ally, he was waltzing right into the enemy castle and declaring war on the Queen. Little Alice would soon learn just what a tyrant he could be. |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on May 15, 2013 9:31:07 GMT -8
| H is eyes glittered with satisfaction as he eyed the balled fists and the barely suppressed temper tantrum stirring up inside the bubblegum haired teen. It seemed he struck yet another nerve. Poor thing. It must have been so frustrating to see his time in the spotlight drawing to its end. Oh well, he would just have to get over himself. Kittim would be sure to that everyone forgot who Paris even was, letting him fade to the background where he belonged.
Even if he didn’t want to admit Kittim’s superior beauty, he knew the truth. Since the moment he was born, no one missed a chance to tell him and his parents just how precious he was. Each one of his seven sisters doted on him every chance that they were presented with. Even the group of people who flocked around Kittim never spared a compliment. He was so assured of his beauty that he couldn’t even care to hear otherwise. Anyone who said otherwise was just envious of him.
They couldn’t stand that he was substantially more beautiful than they could ever be, even Paris. So, even though Paris tried playing it off like he wasn’t threatened by Kittim, he knew it was the opposite. The blonde stood his ground despite the pat on his cheek and Paris’s latest effort to insult him. When would he learn that his negativity couldn’t deflate Kittim’s ego? He could keep running how mouth but it was all talk. Paris reign was at an end. “I’ll do more than ‘keep up’.”
Kittim possessed something that Paris didn’t, something he never knew he had until he met the angel: charisma. Five days ago, when he met the beautiful winged women at 4Play, he had noticed a lot more than just water becoming almost attracted to him. Eyes were drawn to him, smiles rising to their lips. People were more easily persuaded by his words. Why, he had even convinced Joze’s sister of how terrible she was. He was certain this gift would come in handy now.
While he lacked the connections and experience Paris had, he didn’t need it. The aspiring model had his own arsenal to display for the cameras and crew. So, he took step behind Paris after a quick touch up of his makeup and hair. He even adjusted his dress and smoothed down the multitude of tiers and lace. It was time to steal the spotlight. Kittim glided after Paris, moving easily in his dress and heels—he had experience walking in both after all.
time skip? |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on May 15, 2013 19:22:12 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: April 28TH 2012, 14:30. speech: paris. notes: totally winging it here omg is a mini time-skip okay ;v;? Just under an hour later found Paris frowning dubiously into the crystal clear water of the botanical koi pond. “Is this absolutely necessary?” he inquired, holding his skirts exaggeratedly clear of the water’s edge. “I’m all for going the extra mile, but if I slip this dress is a goner and it’s not going to be on me.” Though he’d been to the gardens before, the little stepping stones out into the pond were a new addition as far as he was concerned. Framed in graceful reeds and the glint of colourful fish, it certainly had that fairytale vibe to it, but no more or less than the veritable maze of roses they’d just finished shooting in. That had been drop dead gorgeous, with flowers from all over the world in full bloom and, frankly, much more suited to the whole Wonderland theme.
Though the photographer had assured him that it was fine, let the dress get wet even, Paris was not convinced; ruining fabulous clothing was downright offensive, akin to blasphemy, like dog-earing the pages of a book. “Artists,” he scoffed with a private roll of his eyes. No appreciation for the sanctity of fashion. Glancing about until he spied Kittim, Paris took the opportunity to pounce upon his hapless partner, hanging off the taller boy’s arm with the same absolutely saccharine flirtatiousness he’d been amusing himself with since the shoot began. No need to be standoffish, right? After all, they were getting on just so well! “Kit-kat, darling, be my knight in shining armour and go first? Pawns before the queen—you know how it is.”
To say that he'd been keeping out of Kittim's hair would be a damn lie, but so far he’d managed to keep it off-camera... mostly. How was he supposed to help it? The other boy felt like a constant thorn in Paris’ side. An annoying little shadow lurking around every shot just waiting to try and steal his spotlight. Happily though, so far no such luck—at least from Paris’ perspective. He’d been cleaning up with this shoot, better than usual if that was even humanly possible, but he’d cut his own tongue out before he ever admitted that maybe, just maybe, it was because he had somebody to compete with. |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on May 18, 2013 20:50:29 GMT -8
| C aptivated by flashing cameras and picturesque beauty, Kittim was too concerned with drinking everything in to worry too much about Paris. He was only a small thorn in the blonde’s side like any other annoyance in his life. Nothing could ruin his mood, not even Paris or his I’m-better-than-you attitude—or so he thought until the shoot took them to the sparkling koi pond. The shoot had to include that atrocious oversized puddle of all places? Did it even fit the theme?
Kittim normally wasn’t so opposed to water, but now there was the fact that he had become something of a magnet for water. Rain arched towards him. Collections of water like puddles, lakes and oceans seemed to ripple and flow in his direction. It was freaky! He hated it more than he hated watching frost climb across an ice cube and up his finger when he touched it. The other things that came with the power he received from the angel didn’t nearly make up for the side effects.
Now, the dress clad boy wasn’t about to have that freakish effect captured on film. Paris seemed as against posing amidst the reeds and flitting fish with a plane of glassy clear water all around them as much as he was. That worked wonderfully to his advantage despite the overinflated bubblegum head’s insistence that he go before him. At least he’d be able to demonstrate the effect he had on people and just how easily he could get his way. Paris didn’t know who he was dealing with.
He shot a charming smile to the crew with eyelashes fluttering in just the right way. “Could we take a break?” The opportunistic teen addressed the photographers sweetly and met their gazes with his warmed eyes. “It looks to me that Paris is little tired. And I’m a little parched. A drink break would be lovely.” As he had expected, the photographer gave him exactly what he wanted. Now, he would have enough time to work his magic and redirect them to another location. “Come along, Paris.” |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on May 22, 2013 9:03:16 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:30. speech: paris. notes: this dress in these colours. Rather than jump at the challenge or shrug him off, Paris was pleasantly surprised to find that Kittim seemed about as enthusiastic about stepping out onto the pond as he did. Interesting. “Afraid of a little water, darling?” Paris teased. “Want me to hold your hand so you don’t fall in?”
It seemed his goading fell on deaf ears, however. Kittim was already stalking over to the photographer with Paris in tow. Oh, this ought to be good, the pink-haired boy thought to himself with no small amount of smugness; so kind of Kit-kat to save him the effort of raising a fuss. With any luck the blonde would land himself in trouble and they’d be forced to end the shoot without Paris so much as lifting a finger… He could live without having to watch Kittim’s clumsy attempts at flirting though. What was with that face? Evidently his poor little Alice really did think he was a Disney Princess, batting those eyelashes like some sort of kitschy cartoon. Now who was taking their role too seriously? It looked ridiculous… so why was everybody swooning? Paris tore his eyes away with a disdainful pout, cheeks oddly hot. He certainly didn’t understand the appeal.
With a huff, Paris allowed himself to be steered away from the shoot, only detaching himself from Kittim’s arm once they’d slipped into the shade behind the cameras. There were drinks and snacks set out for the crew, along with chairs and a small mirror for touching up makeup. Paris gravitated inexorably toward the latter, chewing his lip in thought. Terrible flirting technique aside, Kittim seemed to be willing to go to some interesting lengths to postpone the shooting and Paris wasn’t above using that to his advantage. Growing up in a competitive household with two older siblings, he’d learned to make and break alliances quickly and easily—side with whoever could get you what you wanted now, because given an hour you’d probably be bickering again.
“I don’t like you,” he piped up bluntly, for once without a trace of the usual soul-sucking sweetness. “And from what I gather, for some unfathomable reason, you don’t like me either. While there’s no accounting for taste, I’m afraid, I think we can both agree that this whole water feature thing is so not happening. Stand out in the glaring sun in this thing getting all damp and nibbled by fish? Please.” Checking his hair in the mirror as he spoke, still irritatingly flawless even after an hour of shooting outdoors, Paris combed out a few invisible flyaways. “I propose a truce. We both want the same thing, so why not help each other get it?” |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on Jun 9, 2013 19:33:53 GMT -8
| P aris’ taunt might have pierce his shell of confidence, pushing through the cracks made the day the angel changed his life by bestowing strange powers on him. What he deemed as side effects caused them to form, giving weakness to it. However, he was riding on the satisfaction of getting his way. What made it better was how upset the pinkette was about the whole display. He didn’t expect little amateur Kittim to have such an effect on people. That was his greatest mistake.
Underestimating an enemy was risky business. Although this wasn’t a battlefield, there were other things at stake. Like reputations. Paris’ was about to take some damage, or it would if he was pushed enough. At the moment, however, he busied himself with leading the queen to the refreshment table with a satisfied smirk on his lips. He didn’t pay his majesty much mind when he removed himself off his arm. Actually, he was glad he did. His little act was sickening.
“Look at that. Just when I thought we had nothing to agree on,” He threw in smartly. The blonde brushed some of his yellow locked behind his ear before he bothered to speak again. Of course, he wasn’t listening attentively to whatever Paris babbled on about either. He only caught mention of the proposed truce and that was all he needed to hear. “That’s a great idea. I didn’t think that head of yours had any room for anything but your overinflated ego.”
He dared a trip towards the refreshments, hoping the containers which held them would keep them from tiding towards him. The bright colored cups were thankfully solid and not at all see-through so it wasn’t going to be a problem if he grabbed himself a drink. No one would see the contents of his cup. “But, you’re right. Let’s do this truce thing.” He took a sip from his cup, savoring the cold beverage down his throat after being in the sun so long. “I have a plan. Care to hear it?” |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on Jun 11, 2013 13:02:25 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:30. speech: paris. notes: this dress in these colours. For a moment Paris just about wished he could suck that peace offering right back out of the air. Sure this was going to go a hell of a lot faster if the two of them worked together, but that wasn’t really the question. The question was whether or not he could resist biting Kittim’s head off long enough to see it through. Patience wasn’t exactly a virtue that Paris possessed in heaps and spades, and every time Kittim opened his big fat mouth he could physically feel what little he did have fraying away. It was downright impressive how easily the blonde wiggled his way under his skin. Like a little flaxen parasite.
That was all he was though, thankfully, Paris soothed himself. Kittim was an annoyance, nothing more; a common moth masquerading as a butterfly. He’d outlive his usefulness soon. “Ooh, what’s this? A compliment for little old me? I think I need that in writing,” he teased, conjuring up a demure smile. “I might just have to frame it and put it on my wall.” If the other boy thought that he was just another silly airhead, all the better for him; he had another thing coming when this was all tied up with a neat little bow. The fact that his simpering and clinging seemed to bother Kittim so much was just an added bonus—the other boy was much cuter when he was genuinely ruffled and Paris could definitely stand to see a little more of that. In the meantime it was rather agreeable of the blonde to concede to his obviously superior judgement. At least he wasn’t a complete idiot.
With an indulgent roll of his eyes, Paris crossed tiny arms delicately over his bodice. Though he was sorely tempted to flick the contents of that cup all over Kittim’s dress, his curiosity over the other boy’s plan won out. "Oh do you! This ought to be good. Let's hear it then~.” |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on Jun 26, 2013 18:32:48 GMT -8
| T he aspiring model had a way of working on a person’s nerves and under their skin. Kittim was a frustrating individual for anyone to handle for any extended period of time. That insufferable facet of the blonde’s personality which allowed him to be so thick-skinned fueled only by his undeserved confidence played a role in it often times. That mouth of his did too. But there was something else to the blonde that could never really be placed. Paris was unfortunately enough to experience it personally.
It wouldn’t be long until someone lost their composure and it wouldn’t be him. If Kittim was correct in his judgment, Paris was more likely to snap. The pinkette couldn’t take anything with a grain of salt. He was getting all riled up over a few smart mouthed remarked from a blonde who apparently meant nothing more to him than dirt. Of course, the model had come fairly close to finding the chink in his armor. He was far from it now though. The minor detail was easily overlooked.
While Kittim didn’t exactly pride himself on his intelligence, his brain wasn’t exactly a useless cluster of nerves rattling around in his skull. There were moments when he chose to make use of it. His priorities might have questionable at best, but he did make used of it from time to time. He was making use of it now against the conceited teenaged model before him. There was benefit in allying himself with Paris, but he would instantly choose any alternative that presented itself.
“We simply find a more suitable location and lead them to it,” explained the flaxen haired teen with a grin. No, it wasn’t the most elaborate of plans but it was certainly the best choice. “Or you can throw on of your little tantrums. I’m sure the cameramen will love that.” Kittim didn’t like his tone so he felt the need to throw in the jab after finishing the contents of his cup. He tossing it in the trash, keeping his eyes trained on his companion. “In my opinion, this would be the smarter choice. How about it?” |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on Jul 31, 2013 21:40:02 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:30. speech: paris. notes: sobs a lot kitty I’m so sorry this took so long T-T Ahh, Kittim needed one more jab to fix his poor wittle bruised ego, did he? Cute. Paris batted his falsies sweetly. “Little tantrums? Why Kitkat, I’ve been nothing but grace and goodwill since we met. Ask anyone here: they’ll tell you we’ve been getting along fabulously.” Unfortunately for Kittim, that much was true. Anyone watching the two of them who hadn’t been picking apart their interactions under a microscope would assume they were friendly. Paris was an actor after all, and a damn good one at that.
Content with snagging the last word, Paris listened to Kittim explain his Master Plan (tm). The other boy was grinning away at his own idea, but Paris couldn’t exactly say that he shared the enthusiasm. “So basically your plan is just to do what we’re pretty much already doing… getting away… and then outright tell the guy we want to shoot somewhere else,” he clarified. Well. How helpful. Apparently that blond wasn’t just for show. But Kittim had a point… in a roundabout way. What else could they do? Paris, for one, wasn’t about to stir up shit with the photographer. Not today. He’d like to be invited back to a shoot with this team sometime in the next million years and pissing people off and being difficult (at least to their faces) wasn’t exactly the way to do that. Neither was outright criticizing the artistic vision.
After mulling it over for a good minute, Paris stuck out a hand, the other tucked behind his back with fingers crossed- just in case. “Fine,” he conceded. “Let’s do this. I suppose it’s the best we’ve got. If we beg prettily enough I bet they’d let us backtrack to the rose garden. Or maybe mosey on over to the gazebo. That’d be nice. I’m about two degrees short of cooking in this thing.”
There was a catch, of course. There always was, with him. In this case, it was that Paris would rather not be the one sticking his neck out asking for favors. Unlike himself, Kittim was just a flavour du jour in the modelling circuit. Better to he let the other boy take this initiative just in case they happened to shoot the messenger. “I leave the talking up to you, oh illustrious tactician. Work your little charm thing or whatever it is you do. Let’s go wrangle ourselves a photographer… Hopefully he won’t demand our souls in exchange for ruining the vision.” |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on Aug 18, 2013 17:47:08 GMT -8
| A lthough it pained him to admit it (even to himself), Kittim realized that Paris was right. They had made it appear as if they were getting along wonderfully, even if that wasn’t the case. Kittim couldn’t help puffing his chest up at the thought of how well he had convinced everyone that he could stand Paris. Maybe he had a future on the silver screen? Of course, it wasn’t the time to be fantasizing about his bright and glorious future and all the possibilities it held.
If he didn’t play his cards right, there was a chance he could ruin any possibility he had to grasp it. Paris, on the other hand, could still be brought down without any risk. Kittim could see how he pushed the pinkette’s buttons. He just had to hit the right one and that sickly sweet façade would shatter. The model-to-be only hoped it would be caught on camera so he could look back on the day with satisfaction. But he would wait and see if the opportunity presented itself.
“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sounds as genius as it is,” pouted the blonde. His cocky smile returned to his lips a moment later. Paris’ words didn’t really faze him all too much either way. He had almost come close to bothering him, but that was far behind them now. “I already have a place in mind.” He took the compliment, ignoring any sarcasm that might be laced in it. “I don’t mind if I do.” He paused before the mirror, fixing his hair and adjusting his dress before he set off to find the crew.
He recalled the pretty grove of trees, carrying loads of light pink blossoms he saw on his way over. If they were willing to deviate from the Alice in Wonderland theme for the koi pond then they would easily take the bait, as long as it was Kittim dangling it before them. “Boys!” Kittim cooed, prancing his way across the remaining distance once he found the crew. “I had the most wonderful idea! Could you hear me out?” He batted his eyelashes, holding their gaze with his round amber eyes.
Once he had there attention, the rest was simple. They were already hanging off his every word. All he has to do was lean in to whisper sweetly in their ears. For a moment, he thought they would object but his idea sounded much more appealing coming from his lips. He had them wrapped around his little finger. Paris wouldn’t like that one bit. Kittim dared to steal a glance towards the pinkette, flashing him a grin and motioning him over. “Are you coming Paris?” |
LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on Sept 1, 2013 1:23:33 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:00. speech: paris. notes: sorry this got a little beastly on me. They had to be kidding. There was no way Kittim’s little plan should have gone so smoothly, and as the blonde motioned him over imperiously Paris simmered with annoyance… especially since he couldn’t help the fact that he was a little, bitty, infinitesimally tiny bit impressed. What the hell was this witchcraft? Even he, devilishly enchanting creature that he was, had to put a little more effort than that.
Stifling a mock yawn, Paris sashayed over, skirts gathered up primly off the ground. “Thank god, I was wondering what was taking so long,” he lied. There was no way in hell he was giving Kittim the satisfaction of knowing he’d made an impression. Though, as the two of them were swept along in the shuffle of crew and camera equipment, Paris had to admit that they could do worse than a change in location to the cherry blossom groves at the entrance of the zoo. In fact, he was rather pleased with it. Considering it was barely May, the trees were just winding down from full bloom and petals were falling like snow on the walkways.
Their photographer seemed equally enthused. The moment he came in contact with the change in scenery cameras went back up lightning-fast. Paris rolled his eyes to Kittim as the guy started to babble on about lighting and framing and where he wanted the models to be placed. “Uh oh, the muse has struck. Then again, if he’s stoked I’m pretty sure that means we’re safe. Goodbye soggy hems and heatstroke.” Later, Paris might admit that he’d celebrated a bit prematurely, because an eager tap on the shoulder and mere seconds later found said babbling photographer right up in his face—or, he might have been, had the guy been about half a foot shorter— explaining their new concept.
Apparently the royal “they” wanted to go darker. They wanted a little more edge, a little more intrigue. They wanted the Queen of Hearts seducing Alice. Basically… “You want us to do a stage kiss?” Paris clarified, wrinkling his nose. It’s not like the guy was asking for the moon, but… with Kittim? Ugh. Wasn’t it generally accepted that kissing assholes was unhygienic?
Then again, when life gives you lemons…
“Piece of cake,” he chirped brightly, smelling an entertaining chance to wiggle his way under the blonde’s skin as he bumped shoulders with Kittim, taking the other boy’s hand. “We’re game, aren’t we Kit-kat darling?” |
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on Sept 3, 2013 21:29:00 GMT -8
| I t was particularly gratifying to have everyone eating from his palm with Paris watching not too far behind. The spoiled pinkette was probably used to being the one pulling the strings. Kittim was clearly stepping on his toes a little more than he should have being the amateur. But it was the bold ones who ended up stealing the show these days and Kittim was as bold as they come. He was getting the attention he so rightfully deserved. Although Paris didn’t show it, he must have been smoldering.
Just the mere thought of getting under the younger boy’s skin made him stand a little taller, hold his head a little higher while they moved to the new site. He wasn’t fooled by what he chose to take as a lie, unaware that it actually was. Kittim’s ego refused to accept it as anything else. The thought that it wasn’t a lie wasn’t allowed in the protective bubble. And he stood beside Paris with an annoyingly satisfied smirk on his glossy lips, waiting for the shoot to begin again.
He didn’t notice the excited murmuring of the crew until Paris’s voice pulled his head out of the clouds. Again, he tallied another point on his side. Kittim came to regret his suggestion when he heard what they had in mind. A kiss? With Paris? He never had a problem kissing people he didn’t really life, but the thought of his lips touching Paris’ left a bad taste in his mouth. But, he wasn’t about to blow his chance now. “Of course we are.” He replied with sugary sweetness. |
LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by PARIS CHOU on Sept 15, 2013 16:40:03 GMT -8
tagged: KITTY. time: APRIL 28TH 2012, 14:00. speech: paris. notes: this dress in these colours. “Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road,” Paris said with faux enthusiasm. Hell yes he’d seen that subtle curl of Kittim’s lip when the blonde had registered what he’d said about the kiss. Evidently he wasn’t any happier about it than Paris himself and it was great. Suck on that, Alice. The one saving grace about the whole situation was that it put the ball solidly in Paris’ court. He was the Queen of Hearts, he got to be the one pulling the strings, leading the poses, and ooh Kittim was going to hate him.
Allowing himself to be directed out in front of the camera with Kittim in tow, Paris pulled the other boy in until they were nose to nose… and then smirked sweetly into his face, raising his arms up to loop around Kittim’s neck (oh, how he wished he could just slide right down until his hands were there instead and squeeze). With a coy mock pout in his voice, Paris looked up at Kittim as though he’d just realized something infinitely troubling and asked: “Sorry darling, you’re a little big for this. Kneel down for me would you?”
He had angled them both perfectly in profile in the shot. If Kittim had any modelling sense at all he’d be able to appreciate how gorgeous the photographs could turn out…. Well, not with naïve, innocent Alice towering over her Queen. That just wouldn’t do. But if Kittim would just be a good boy and listen up, they could churn out gold. It helped that getting the chance to literally put the arrogant blonde in his place was doing wonders for Paris’ mood. A petty win was still a win after all.
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Post by KITTIM CURTIS on Oct 16, 2013 20:18:29 GMT -8
| T here was no benefit in making a fuss over the kiss, so he nodded with false eagerness and murmured under his breath; “Let’s get this over with.” He had little choice but to follow Paris’s directing as they moved into place beneath the shower of soft pink petals. Kittim was surprisingly complaint, somehow biting back his pride for the sake of his future. His dreams were in his reach and he refused to let them slip through his fingers because some cocky pinkette wanted to get under his skin.
Besides, he had kissed plenty of people he didn’t want to. He’d done plenty of things he didn’t want to. Paris may have been enjoying Kittim’s displeasure. He may have taken their predicament as his victory. But, in the end, Kittim would be on top. That he was certain of. If Paris wanted Kittim to kneel then Kittim would, only for the cameras. But it wouldn’t be Paris’ victory. Oh no. Kittim wasn’t going to give up the fight so easily. It would be a cold day in hell if that ever happened.
Kneeling, Kittim reached out for Paris’ hand with the intent to guide it where he wanted it to me. The blonde leaned in to close the distance. “Down with the queen,” whispered Kittim into Paris’ ear before pressing a kiss to the high school model’s lips. Blue tinted light flashed in a flurry, accompanied by the clicking of camera shutters. Paris set up the picture, but Kittim took the kiss. It was a flawless victory in his mind. Game, set, match. |
LAIKA OF GS! |
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