|
|
Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 19, 2006 14:12:55 GMT -5
After a night of partying, Scarlett always felt like shit. Maybe it was the sweat from the dancing, though calories had been burned. Maybe it was the slight hangover from the two rum and cokes she had had. Scarlett was an easy drunk once you got her going, probably because she didn't do it all that often. Party animal, I think not, though she did look good in those short dresses. Either way, spa treatments generally did just the trick, coupled with the soundtrack from the O.C. The show held little interest for her, but the music was amazing.
So she took a shower in the morning, brushed her teeth vigorously for about five whole minutes, wound a ceramic curling iron through her hair to achieve those famous beachy waves, and pulled an outfit she viewed suitable for a spa day.
This consisted of a long white C & C California tunic top, reaching the middle of her thighs. It tapered in at the smallest point of her waist, and had a small scoop neck where her classic silver Cartier chain-link necklace was. Around the tapering she placed a red leather Miss Sixty belt, making her look even skinnier. If you model on the cover of Elle, your waist better look tiny all the time. She pulled on black Roberto Cavalli leggings, and slipped her feet into cork-and-red-leather-straps wedges by Marc Jacobs.
Her makeup was light, however hidden by huge black Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses. They had square frames, rounded at the corners, making her face look rather petite. Only a light dusting of gold-flecked Urban Decay eyeshadow and a coat of Kiss Me mascara was on her eyes. Otherwise she was makeup-free and ready for a facial.
Scarlett snatched up her black-and-gold-detailed Chloe bag, and had her doorman hail a taxi and put her in it. She waved to him with a huge smile, and in ten minutes she was at her destination. The pretty Indian girl immediately let her in without an appointment, telling her how much she had loved the recent spread in British Vogue Scarlett had done. She was in the private VIP room (yes, the spa had a VIP room, it was that exclusive) to get her pedicure. Scarlett was seated in a large vintage dark-brown leather chair, her feet in a high-tech mini-hot-tub. She placed her white iPod video headphones into her ears, tuned to Running Up That Hill by Placebo, the perfect calming song. This was the life. |
|
|
|
Post by Mercedes Love on Nov 19, 2006 14:33:26 GMT -5
Maybe it was the drinking. Maybe it was her friends. Maybe it was the fact that it was too early to be awake. She didn’t know which. But she felt like shit. Her head was pounding, her feet hurt, and this whole hang-over thing, yea, it wasn’t working for her. Mercedes was not an easy drunk, drinking to this child is a sport, which she is the Tiger Woods of, but after last night, she questioned weather or not she would ever be able to hold her liquor again.
It wasn’t enough to just feel like shit, Cede looked it too. Never in her life had she taken a cold shower maybe washed her hair in cold water, but she had never actually taken a cold shower. They’re a first for everything. And this morning first last two and half-hours. To follow that up, 4 cups of coffee. Black. At least she was trying to knock sense into herself.
Her skin was just, a mess. Her T-Zone was oily and her cheeks were dry, and her lips were chapped. Oh yea. Defiantly, model worthy today. Make was a out of the question. Her pores could not handle anymore damage then that. Her face would sooner fall off before she put make-up on skin like that. She refused to even use non-medicated Chap Stick.
At least her clothes matched. She actually looked pretty cute. After buying it yesterday, Cede forced herself to wear a black slouch neck black cotton tee, with a pink halter underneath, to add a splash of color. Anything other then a pair of jean would just not do, so she hunted down her one and only pair of Chip and Pepper dark, stone wash boot cut jeans. Comfy. Yess. Stylish…Suree. To complete the look, she pulled on a black bomber jacket, a pair of black sort-fur wedge boots, hailed a cab, and made her way to the only place no one would thing to look for her. The VIP room of the Rose Resort.
Cede let herself in, waved to the girl her wrote down appointment, and let herself in to the VIP room. Maybe if the god damn light hadn’t been so bright, and she wasn’t blinded, so would have seen who was in there. No turning back now. |
|
|
|
Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 19, 2006 14:54:44 GMT -5
The woman doing her toes entered. Scarlett grinned. The lady was her favorite--Kimberly, a pretty thirty-five-ish French woman that Scarlett actually had wonderful conversations with. Kimberly really wanted to be a hairstylist to the stars, and she loved giving Scarlett tips. In turn, Scarlett would help her get gigs and give her old, little-worn jewelry and the occasional set of Manolos. "Hello, Kimberly. I would give you a hug, but I'm not in the greatest position." She let out a meek laugh and Kimberly smiled, straightening her Marc Jacobs shoes sitting next to the chair.
Scarlett looked up as Cede entered the room, looking the exact way on the outside that yours truly felt on the inside. Of course she was still gorgeous, and her outfit looked expensive and while-tailored, however un-Scarlett it was. Much more vixen, much less couture--but it suited Cede. She smiled, though not hugely, and offered a wave. [/size] |
|
|
|
Post by Mercedes Love on Nov 19, 2006 15:11:50 GMT -5
Someone’s voice pounded Cede’s head. Ouch. Next time, she was making a house call.
“Dim this, pleasee” She whined. This was no regular hang over. Ex, much? No, actually, just a little.
After the dimming of the light, Cede dropped her coat, only for someone to pick up, and pushed her shoe’s by her chair, plopped down, and opened her eye’s for the first time she had been in. Scarlett? Scarlett was here. At this moment. At the one time she thought she was out of ear shoot from everyone who wanted to murder her and throw her into the Hudson? Gees. This was too much.
“Hi…Scarlett.” Cede was barely able to manage. Her voice was gone to. Now were did that go? |
|
|
|
Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 20, 2006 17:33:56 GMT -5
Scarlett grinned as she watched Mercedes whine about the lighting. Clearly she was having the hangover from hell, just like herself. It almost made her seem a little less fiction and a little more real.
"Hey, Cede." Scarlett looked back down. Kimberly had placed a wooden tray of polishes, only the best from Chanel and Shisiedo, on her lap. She sorted through the polishes, comparing colors. It was winter, so clearly not the time for pinks. French was out of the question, as Scarlett hated the tips and found them tacky. Too many people had that same thing. She selected a dark red Chanel polish with flecks of fourteen-karat gold.
"Guess you're feeling about as fabulous as me, right?" The sarcasm in her tone was apparent, though not rude at all. [/size] |
|
|
|
Post by Mercedes Love on Nov 21, 2006 18:02:23 GMT -5
“Oh Yeah…SOMEONE GET ME A TYLENOL. NOW, PEOPLE.”
Cede was slumped down in her chair and dropped her feet into the warm pedi water. Ah, Warm Bliss. The women soaking her feet pushed the tray of nail polish in front of her…hers was different from Scarlett’s. Cede tray was filled with rich brown and Gold, and Brown-gold mixes. Select a bottle of warm, dark brown for her toes, and rich-cocoa like color for her thin finger’s.
Pushing the try back, Cede whined and shielded her eyes with her free hand as the women exited the VIP room.
|
|
|
|
Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 22, 2006 19:56:45 GMT -5
Sadie glanced at Mercedes sideways. Yelling for Tylenol, or anything for that matter, wasn't new to her. She did have little siblings and an uptight A-List mother, and though she wouldn't even yell for anything much--except maybe at a guy--it didn't bother her. It was pathetic to call people out on such little things.
"Kimberly, can I get a Perrier and cranberry with ice, please?" It was a funky little drink that she and her brothers had created themselves. It was pretty much addicting--the sour taste of cranberry juice coupled with the fizzy and refreshing expensive French bubbly water.
As the manicurist went to fetch her water, Scarlett took the time to glance around the spa. The walls were slate gray, white a sloping white two-story ceiling. The top was all glass, a funky modern Baccarat crystal chandelier hanging from it. The harsh winter sunlight poured down on her head. The chairs were slate gray leather, and the ground was glass tiling. White orchids in lavender-and-white vases rested on glass tables. The whole effect was calming and chic. Water ran down the walls into fountain basins on the floor.
Excellent. [/size] |
|
|
|
Post by Mercedes Love on Nov 22, 2006 20:26:42 GMT -5
Cede had enough. She was unhappy and hang over, and now was just not a good idea to take you time,
“Excuse me, Scarlett. I’m sorry If I hurt your head…
NOW LISTEN UP, PEOPLE. I AM NOT A VERY HAPPY CAMPER THIS MORNING, AND I WOULD LIKE TO BE GIVEN WHAT I ASK FOR, WHEN I ASK FOR IT. IF I DO NOT, I WILL TELL MY FATHER. YOU HEAR THAT? MY FATHER”
Cede then took a deep breath, sat down, and was brought what she had asked for, and then a mug of Throat Coat to shut her up. She brushed her dark hair from her eyes, pushed a pill into her mouth and then followed it with half of the mug of strong lemon liquid.
|
|
|
|
Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 22, 2006 20:35:26 GMT -5
Um, wow.
Scarlett had seen temper tantrums from girls all over the globe, and this one wasn't any different, though it did feel as if drums were going off in her head. Now, Cede was definitely nice when she wanted to be and Scarlett had no problem with her... But clearly she had been allowed to trod around on people her entire life, and if Scarlett became friends with her, wasn't going to allow that. For now she chose not to comment on the situation, and simply took a sip of her Perrier while Kimberly chattered on about the latest Balenciaga she wanted.
"My head's fine, thanks." She smiled and leaned her small, doll-like blond head back on the seat, closing her eyes for a second in an effort to rest.
She was recalling memories from London, as she had been missing it a lot lately, even the chime of Big Ben. She missed the winding streets, the big breakfasts, the amazing hotels, and the shopping. Harrods was literally calling her name from a few thousand miles away. It was, and would always be, one of her two homes. [/size] |
|
|
|
Post by Mercedes Love on Nov 23, 2006 14:48:45 GMT -5
“Mhm.” Cede said through her cup.
Inhaling deeply. She went over last night, and then made a face.
“Did you talk to Olivia last night? She didn’t even call last night. She really should be nicer, I don’t like it when my friends exclude me from their evening, especially when I invited them…That’s heartbreaking.”
Cede nodded truthfully, then settled back in with her warm brown cappuccino mug.
OhOhSee//
Short. Ew. I know.
|
|
|
|
Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 23, 2006 14:53:18 GMT -5
Scarlett glanced up at Cede, who appeared pretty upset about the whole thing. Kimberly arrived back and handed her a white porcelain mug, fresh from the modern eatery on the top floor. She murmured her polite thank-yous before listening to what Mercedes had to say.
"No, I didn't really speak to her. She was off with Austin." Scarlett shrugged, tucking a lock of wavy blond hair behind her ear with the unmanicured hand. "I don't know how they met... She didn't really speak to anyone. No big deal, I suppose. She was a little tipsy." Scarlett wasn't about to trash her best friend. She had learned through years of getting caught in lies that that didn't work. "I guess she's like that." Scarlett let out a laugh.
She was finding more and more that Mercedes was an actual person, someone she could hopefully, in the long run, become friends with.
Another sip was taken from her cup.
ooc;
Yick, mine is short, too. |
|
|
|
Post by Mercedes Love on Nov 24, 2006 22:10:06 GMT -5
“Interesting.”
Cede draw a line with her finger around her cup.
“Does she just…leave sometimes…She does it to me, and I don’t know if That’s just Olivia as of now, or if it’s a message…Do you think It’s a message?”
This was just great. Olivia. What happened to BFF’s or whatever. Weren’t they suppose to be all tight-go-shopping-all-of-the-time-and-go-to-weird-art-deco-things?
Speaking of Art…
“Did you see that new art thing? My mom wants it, and we’re thinking about writing the check…”
|
|
|
|
Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 26, 2006 21:41:50 GMT -5
Scarlett looked up, tracing her finger around the ring of her coffee cup. Her gaze turned to Cede, as if she were almost trying to read her face. She was completely different than she had expected. She actually cared, or at least it seemed so. Of course, Scarlett would still be wary. But she'd at least listen.
"You know, part of it probably is just Olivia, and maybe she doesn't realize she's doing it--but I think it might be a message. Anybody would try to do something like that before actually breaching the issue, correct? Just... give it time before you jump on it. Liv will get over it." Her words were followed with a smile.
"Galerie Quatre? Yeah, I modeled in some of the pictures there." She shrugged, not meaning to be at all forward or to brag. "It's really cool, but it's privately owned by the photographer. He won't be selling it anytime soon--not good for A-list business, you know." |
|
|
|
Post by wowposter on Oct 30, 2008 6:48:31 GMT -5
|
|
x 
x 
