sooner or later

[devonblakewest]

i must confess ,

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i’m in love with my own sins ![/i][/b][/size][/font]

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She was completely frazzled. There was just no way she'd be able to live day to day like this without some sort of output and relaxation. The media was hard, dirty business. Devon learned this immediately. Once you were told something, you were to do it. Her mind was still reeling in irritation at all the rules she needed to follow. It was like home all over again. But this time, she couldn't run away from it. She had no where else to go. And she'd finally, finally moved out of her dingy, piss yellow wallpapered apartment to something decent. Hey, when you worked in Hollywood, you got paid. So, for the entire day Devon just gritted her teeth and did as she was told instead of throwing down everything she had in her hands and yelling at people. It was her job to listen and do, not yell and bitch. Though she was quite good at that.

She'd spent the entire day learning how a busy day in the studio went. Even though she thought the other days had been busy days, they did not compare to today. Her feet hurt and she felt like she was going to just fall over and sleep. She had done dozens and dozens of fitting and costumes and even went out of her way to help with hair and a little bit of makeup. It didn't help that the stars they were working with weren't so cooperative. Devon nearly stabbed a few with a clothes pin for the hell of it. When she was finally let off and able to breath she stepped outside where she was greeted with the stupid tour buses that Universal Studios provided. She remember being on one of those and excited that one day she'd be working there. It was so not how she pictured it would be. Oh to be naive again. She pretended to look busy, since that was another rule: Hollywood is always busy.

It didn't matter that Devon's name wasn't known. It didn't matter that Devon was just a backstage crew member. In Hollywood, image was everything. Hell, her heels were enough to remind her that. She was a crew member and no one would pay that much attention to her, but when you were a crew member for the hottest show in Hollywood, you had to look good. Besides, even though her name wasn't big now, people still knew her face and name. Just in case. So it was bad publicity if you didn't look as good as your props did. And since she was in charge of costumes she needed to look as good as those clothes she dressed the stars in.

Once the day was nearing an end, Devon finally took a deep breath, leaning against her car, "Jesus

[/b]," She uttered to herself before dragging her feet to climb into her car. Already, she knew where she was going just to let herself unwind and relax. There was need for huge crowds and alcohol. And since she worked Hollywood, she knew there was no better place than the Victory nightclub. And it was a victory, really, that she made it through today. After parking her car and making her way toward the club she finally felt at ease. She could feel the thrum of the music before she even stepped in.

She called out a simple greeting to the bouncer before passing though, glad that she didn't have to wait in the huge line. There were props for working in Hollywood after all. She decided to hit it hard with two vodka shots before weaving her way into the dance floor and forcing the stiffness out of her five foot six inches frame. This is all she needed to end her day, a little dancing a few strangers pushing against her. Because right here, it didn't matter that she was infamous. Even though her plan was to, one day, be famous and have her designs run the red carpet.
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THIS THREAD IS finished.
AND IT’S FOR tristy-boo
AS FOR WORDS, WE HAVE 688
THE LYRICS ARE FROM america’s suitehearts by fall out boy.
MUSE IS THANKS TO my little sister baby talking...
AND WE’RE WEARING right hurrr
ANY LAST THOUGHTS? this is fail
THANKS FOR THE HARD WORK template (c) - bethasaur ftw . of CAUTION 2.0

[hannah]

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Today was a good day for Tristan. Not just because he'd woken up on the right side of the bed, or because Slim Shady hadn't eaten his townhouse alive last night. He'd just gotten signed for his first huge movie production, in which he played a major role. He knew the demand to play a terrorist in an up and coming movie probably wasn't highly sought after, since apparently the character died and didn't get the girl, but who knew. Maybe he would be remembered for playing an epic villain. Anyone who knew anything about batman knew the joker, and anyone who knew Star Wars knew Darth Vader. Maybe his role wasn't quite that epic, but who know? In Hollywood anything could happen, and Tristan was hoping it would happen for him. He had been working, honestly, for a while trying to make it to the top. He had a habit of stepping on people to get where he wanted and not caring about it, but he hadn't exactly found anyone to step on here. Everyone seemed like they had something better to do, and it seemed if he was going to pull a low-blow stunt, it would be grabbing onto someone else's fortune and feeding off it. Don't blame him for it; he was just doing what everyone else did and were afraid to admit. He just had the balls to not deny that he was human.

But anyway, such an occasion called for a drink. He wasn't too excited to be drinking by himself, but that would do for now. He drummed against the steering wheel of his Audi R8, listening to the music being pumped through the speakers. He wasn't one for blaring music no one understood the words to, but he didn't care. He was headed to Victory for a little victory lap of his own, if you catch my drift. He was proud of himself and knew he deserved a little reward and getting smashed seemed like a plausible cure. It wasn't that he was particularly stressed with his life, but Tristan liked to drink. He was probably becoming a bit of an alcoholic, and if he ever realized it he wouldn't be surprised in the least. His mom was a raging alcoholic, and his dad, from the little he remembered, always enjoyed the bottle. Besides, how could you quit something that made you feel so damn good? He wasn't sure, but there was always that nagging thought in the back of his head, telling him he wouldn't be able to continue drinking like this if he did make it big. In that case, he would have cameras around him all the time watching all his drunken stunts, and that probably wouldn't be really good for his image. So, all the more reason to party it the fuck up now, right?

Tristan parked his Audi and made his way immediately to the front of the line. Okay, so here's where his fame really showed up. He'd starred in a few minor productions, and it was no secret he'd signed on for the big movie coming up so his face wasn't all that unfamiliar to the club staff around here. He waltzed through like he owned the place, just a very Tristan move. He always walked around like he was the biggest damn star in Hollywood even when it was painfully obvious he wasn't. But hey, if you wanna be a star, you gotta have the swagger, and if there was a nobody with the swagger of a champion, it was Tristan.

He walked straight up to the bar, pushing his way through mingling dancers. He ordered a scotch, which disappeared about as quickly as the bar tender had produced it. The glass clinked lightly against the bar as he set it back down and demanded it be refilled. Once it was, that was gone too, and soon enough so was he. He cast his bright eyes over the crowd, the bubbling that was starting to happen in the back of his skull and on top of his skin was giving him confidence overload. He was attempting to slice through all these usual girls and find one worthy of taking home. No, not to meet mom, as a matter of fact quite the contrary. Not that he was saying if he ever did meet a girl who seemed worth his time, he would put her through the pain and misery of meeting his mother. She would meet his sister, but not his god forsaken mother. As a matter of fact, he didn't even call her mom, he called her by her first name. It only helped to strengthen the hate the woman had for her own son, but it didn't matter to Tristan. Part of the reason he was in Hollywood, though he would never admit it, was to rub it in his family's face that he was the one who was getting somewhere in life, the one everyone thought would flunk out and work at Burger King the rest of his life. If only they could see him now.

Finally deciding he couldn't see straight enough to choose from so far away, he stepped forward under the impression he needed to test drive a few models before he purchased. The only thing that floated around his head now was, Blond, or brunette? Shallow, but drunk Tristan -- or buzzed Tristan -- was much worse in the way of suaveness and smooth talking. Worse in the good way. He didn't have to go far to discover the answer to his internal question. The brunette waves caught his eye, dragging his attention to her face to make him realize he knew her. A devious smirk twitched onto his face as he made his way toward her through the crowd. She was bouncing to the music, and he was too now as he pressed his front side against her backside, his hands falling to her hips. He knew he was being a little grabby considering she was a friend, but it was purely for kicks and giggles.. maybe. He chuckled lightly, his mouth right next to her ear. "What's this sexy pair of legs doing clo-- alone?" he muttered over the music, continuing to dance with her as he slid his hands down over her jeans against her thighs. He had to smirk while he waited for her reaction, knowing it would be something alone the lines of, Get the fuck off creep, but that wouldn't get him away. He knew they had the mutual understanding that the other was an a sexy individual, but saying so was boring. It was much easier to be a cynical and sarcastic bastard and go home laughing about it. At least when you were Tristan.

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i shut the shit down for devon west, all 1130 words. he's feeling flirty and buzzed, watch yourself. he's wearing this and lookin like a badass. i got my lyrics from kill hannah's lips like morphine. and in other news, this totally blows. my apologies.

[devonblakewest]

i must confess ,

[/i][/b][/size][/font]

i’m in love with my own sins ![/i][/b][/size][/font]

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Devon knew that any boy or any friend she ever met now in her life was never ever going to meet her parents. hell, she was a runaway and hadn't spoken to her parents in years. It was difficult, since surprisingly she missed her dad sometimes. But once she thought about her mother that feeling went away and Devon was able to grit her teeth and do whatever she was doing. One day when her name was known and flashing in the movies, letting people know that she helped make it happen, her parents would realize that she did it all on her own. They had barely raised her. Her mother bossed her around and her father just stood off to the side. His only kingdom was at his high school. being a principal made him in charge there. Too bad his only daughter burned it down before she ran away from home. Occasionally she wondered what happened to her dad after that. She was betting her own bottom dollar that he paid for it all and pressed no charges. She was almost sure that her parents knew it had been her to burn it down. After all, she'd left her clothes there that had gotten charred and ripped. Devon wasn't even sure why she burned down the high school. It was big and fancy, just like her parents. Maybe it was symbolic in a way; burning it down and making him start off fresh on his own. Like she was doing now in Hollywood. Or maybe she was just a freak.

It wasn't like Devon even had a thought of ever falling in love and having to worry about that one day. Like who was going to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day and give her away. She'd never really thought about a dream wedding. Or having kids or even falling in love. She was too caught up in making sure she had enough money and a decent job. She was envious, really, of the people who didn't have to worry about such a thing. She heard people talk at work about how they were having a hard time with money, when they had it easier than she did. It wasn't that she was struggling, not anymore at least, but still, she didn't have all the luxury's they did. She was a crew member. And that was it.

West knew that there was nothing out of place when someones hand found her curves. Especially when she was dancing a big crowd at a club. It was just given that such a thing would happen. What she wasn't expecting though, was to be groped fully while she danced. Her brain impulsively told her to turn around and slap the person's face. Then the next second it registered the voice and she rolled her eyes a little; hey, she wasn't going to stop dancing just because Tristan Silvers was being himself. She could smell the booze off his breath as she leaned back a little and pushed against him some more, "Who says I'm alone creep? What if my date is just taking a break

[/b]?" Of course, Devon was alone tonight, and it was pretty obvious and.. well.. nothing new. The only person she really ever partied with were Jack Bailey and sometimes a few chicks that made it into her good side. But maybe Tristan didn't know that. Devon knew that he'd tease her and crack some witty joke about it, as they usually did. She didn't mind at all. In fact, she favored the way their friendship had turned out to be so far. It always added some spice to her day. And working hollywood, you always needed some spice to keep you going.

She turned herself around to face him, placing her hands on his chest and pushing him back slightly, she faked surprise, "Oh hello Tristy-boo. I guess its okay for you to feel up on me since you know, its only you[/b]." she said softly, but full of sarcasm as she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away slightly, giving herself a few inches away from his warm, lean body. It was hard to think straight when there was that much physical contact with Tristan, "What's a stud like you doing here all alone[/b]?" She questioned back with humor in her eyes. She knew that a guy like Tristan came to nightclubs looking for a slut to bring home for the night, and maybe a quickie in the morning. ha. Well too bad he decided to rub against Devon. They both knew, without saying, that it wasn't going to happen that way. If ever Devon were to jump into bed with Tristan it was to cuddle up and actually sleep. Which would probably just frustrate Tristan in many ways and kick her out to sleep on his couch, "Looking for someone to warm your bed tonight, sweetie?[/b]"
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THIS THREAD IS finished.
AND IT’S FOR tristy-boo
AS FOR WORDS, WE HAVE 846
THE LYRICS ARE FROM america’s suitehearts by fall out boy.
MUSE IS THANKS TO halestorm -- its not you
AND WE’RE WEARING right hurrr
ANY LAST THOUGHTS? this is still fail xD
THANKS FOR THE HARD WORK template (c) - bethasaur ftw . of CAUTION 2.0