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Post by soar1 on Jan 9, 2013 17:00:09 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, width:500px;,bTable][classy=icon] [/style][/classy][classy=header][style=text-shadow:1px 1px 3px e3af2c; color:000000; font-size:12px; float:left]There's a boy who is so wonderful, the girls who see him kinda follow him back home. And the gigolos run like spiders when he comes. 'cause he is Eros and he's Apollo. Girls, with a boy like that it's serious. Señoritas, don't follow him. Soon, he will eat your hearts like cereals. Sweet lolitas, don't go, you're still young. But every night they fall like dominoes. How he does it, only heaven knows. All the other men turn gay wherever he goes.{xxx words for blah} [/classy][classy=text]APRIL 24TH -- 3:30 PM He could already feel the shutters clicking as he exited the coffee shop, frappuchino in hand. Even with his sunglasses over his unmistakably bright green eyes, it seemed that the papparazzi seemed to recognize. Then again, Vaughn had long given up trying to escape them. He just made sure they only saw what they wanted to. The dashing Vaughn Granville, movie star and every woman's wet dream. He'd be ruined if they ever found out who he really was. A bastard, of all things-- a dirty street rat who was trying to reach beyond his means. It was getting dangerous, though. The media had all the dirt on his current life, but now they were clamoring for more. What kind of illustrious life had Vaughn led before his leap to stardom? Were his parents proud? Who were his parents? The more the tried to dig, the more paranoid Vaughn became. They couldn't find out. But this, this was fine. He cared little for a blurry shot of him doing what any other star or citizen would do on a nice day like this one. Suddenly, as he rounded the corner, he bumped into someone. While he was not knocked over, he was pushed back, and his frappuchino flew out of his hand, spilling it's sickly pink contents down the front of his shirt.
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Post by alyssa on Jan 9, 2013 19:51:17 GMT -8
[style=padding-top: 246px; color: #f7efd0; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11px; font-style: italic; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; line-height: 5px;]Words: 823 Tags: Vaughn Dated: April 24th [/style] It was more fun visiting tourist attractions in your own hometown (technically city) than Alyssa would have thought. She knew a good amount of the standard history of LA, as per many long time residents, but technically the place she'd decided to visit didn't have anything to do with history at all. The point was more that she was familiar with these surroundings, so as Alyssa wandered about the famed Hollywood streets, she had the sense of "wow this has all been here in Los Angeles my entire life" rather than "wow this has existed in general". Perhaps she couldn't quite place her finger on it in words, but despite not ever having visited Hollywood in her childhood, she couldn't feel too foreign actually being there.
"But those are rather useless thoughts, aren't they? This is Hollywood, I should enjoy myself!" Maybe her enjoyment would have been a tad easier to... well she supposed "reach" if she'd been able to drag along a friend or her brother, but alas that was not so. Her friends were, at the moment, no one, and seeing as she only recently came back, her scheduled meeting with Kittim was in a few days. So the blonde was stuck by herself. Yet that didn't mean the grandeur of Hollywood was damped by too much. It was still quite a dazzling sight, and all she had to do was find music in some shape or form to be immediately entranced. "That could prove difficult though..."
People were going in every which way, and they all had to be at a certain place at a certain time all at the same time as each other. It got a bit confusing, naturally, and hard to seek out a particular thing. "How unfortunate." Alyssa's day never had a set plan in the first place either, only the want to "visit Hollywood". Planning never worked out for her really, as things always seemed to deviant from any plans she made. Yet the guidance of one would have surely come in handy at a time like this, when, for once, she was at a bit of a loss on what to do. And where to go, for that matter.
Awhile of following a crowd's general direction throughout the tourist hotspot was all the violinist needed to begin to feel bored. Wherever they went was bound to be... crowded, obviously, and that wasn't fun at all, which defeated the purpose of being here. It was not long after this revelation that Alyssa broke off of the mass of people and took some random turns. She seemed to have wound herself up at another fairly populated area, and as she moved to get closer and investigate exactly where that was, suddenly a person seemed to just pop up out of thin air around the corner and right into her.
Losing her balance for a fraction of a second, Alyssa was subconsciously relieved she was carrying anything as her arms windmilled as she fought to stay on her feet. Clumsily skidding a few steps, the female had luckily not fallen to the ground. Looking over to the person she'd collided with, the now spilled drink that covered his shirt drained any relief she'd previously felt.
Hands flying to her mouth, the blonde gasped in horror. She hadn't had a drink, it couldn't have been her who spilled it, so it must have been his! She'd now caused the waste of a drink and the potential ruin of a shirt- oh why couldn't he have been holding nothing?!
"I'm super sorry, like super duper sorry!" Now wasn't the best time to reflect on her childish words. Frantically patting her person down instead, she unfortunately already knew her pockets were empty and she didn't have a thing on her to help at least attempt to clean the man's clothing. "I'd use a napkin if I had one, and I chose today of all days to wear short sleeves...! Why couldn't it be winter, I'd at least have sleeves to dry your shirt!" Turning red now in embarrassment and frustration, she didn't even has a scarf on. Only a tank top and- oh! Her jacket! It wasn't really a jacket per say, more like a light, quarter sleeves sweater, but that didn't matter! It would still work as a makeshift towel.
Shrugging the garment off quickly, Alyssa rushed to clean at the stranger's shirt immediately. To dab or rub though... She went with dabbing. It would absorb faster this way and not spread it... right?
"I don't think this'll work very well honestly... would it be better if you just took it off? I could buy you a new one maybe..." It was said to the man, but she spoke it in a tone more as thoughts aloud. Pulling back her sweater and seeing the stain very much still there, she pressed it back again in futile attempts to get rid of it herself.
[OOC: I don't actually know what Hollywood is like/looks like, so if my descriptions are off, sorry Dx I can totally fix anything and hopefully this didn't come out too derpy]
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Post by soar1 on Jan 12, 2013 14:22:32 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, width:500px;,bTable][classy=icon] [/style][/classy][classy=header][style=text-shadow:1px 1px 3px e3af2c; color:000000; font-size:12px; float:left]There's a boy who is so wonderful, the girls who see him kinda follow him back home. And the gigolos run like spiders when he comes. 'cause he is Eros and he's Apollo. Girls, with a boy like that it's serious. Señoritas, don't follow him. Soon, he will eat your hearts like cereals. Sweet lolitas, don't go, you're still young. But every night they fall like dominoes. How he does it, only heaven knows. All the other men turn gay wherever he goes.{xxx words for blah} [/classy][classy=text]
He raised a brow at the girl, more amused than irritated that his new shirt had just been ruined. Vaughn supposed she was justified in her worry. However, when you had an army of designers dying for you to wear their clothing on the red carpet, you could stand to lose a few shirts. Hell, Vaughn was beginning to becoming accustomed to a vast and expensive wardrobe-- a far cry from the worn, threadbare clothing he had donned as a child. A time he certainly wished to forget, and well, here was an opportunity to reaffirm his new place in life.
"It's fine," he assured the young woman, putting a tanned hand on the jacket in an attempt to prevent her from further attempts to dab away the drink (and therefore stop the now cold cloth from pressing against his skin. "A shirt's not a big deal," he added, shrugging as he turned to the side (so as to increase his chances of not being recognized by a bystander) and peeled the shirt off his lean, fit form, taking care not to displace his sunglasses. Balling it up in his hands, he smiled at the poor girl. "See? It's not a problem."
"There's no need to get me a new one, believe me," he said, turning back to face her, shirt in hand. "I've got plenty to replace this one," and with that, Vaughn tossed the thing into a nearby trashcan, reflecting for a brief moment, that it'd likely end up on ebay within the hour.
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