paparazzi is your biggest fan. (the_411) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-05-13 19:38:00 |
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Current mood: | high |
Entry tags: | blues, heroin, paparazzi |
WHO: Paparazzi & Blues & Heroin
WHERE: 12 West 21st Street, between 5th and 6th Avenue; Club Discothèque
WHEN: 2pm, Wednesday afternoon.
WHAT: Formal meeting to plan out Blues performance
WARNINGS: TBA, language.
Wednesdays were always less hectic than normal. Nothing really ever happens on Wednesdays with celebrities, most of them were all busy working, or relaxing. Wednesdays were Sundays for Tinsel Town, celebrities were never seen except out to eat, or something horribly boring. Scandal? Low on Wednesdays.
Which is exactly why Wednesdays were the perfect day for Paparazzi to get her yoga on. Running about ten minutes late, Paparazzi came blazing into the chic club like she owned it. Oh wait. She did! In a blaze of platinum blonde hair, and a three person entourage trailing behind her - one carrying her Louis Vuitton briefcase, another with a Starbucks coffee, and the third a laptop - the blonde vixen certainly knew how to make an entrance. The front entrance was all ready mobbed with potential bar tenders, Paparazzi expected a HUGE turn out, but she didn't think they would show up THIS early.
Shoving past a line of applicants three hours early for their interviews, blue eyes glared at the crowd standing in the front hall of her club. "Fucking shit, don't you guys have LIVES?! The interviews start at 5! Do you really think showing up three hours before the interviews is going to look good?!" A few people parted their way to let Paparazzi through.
Two bouncers opened the doors just to allow Paparazzi and the three others through the doors into the club. Shrugging off a white blazer, she was left with the skin tight black body suit. This style might have gone out with Charlie's Angel, but damn, Paparazzi could really pull off any look. Tossing the jacket to the assistant with the lap top, the woman descended the steps onto the dance floor. Blonde hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, and cascaded down her back. One word to describe her? Fierce. Pure white heels knew how to strut that flawless 5'7" supermodel build, as she made the club her catwalk.
"Does anyone know if my 2 pm meeting arrived?" It was one thing for the boss to show up late, but the potential business partner? Yeah, that didn't sit well with her. The man with the brief case pulled out a date book, and glanced over the schedule.
"I told Gregory to leave them in the Cheetah Room if they showed up before you."
"Perfect." Crimson painted red lips curled into a predatory smirk as she glanced over to a little alcove with couches covered in leopard print, and a stripper pole in the center of the room. The Cheetah Room was one of the most popular areas of the club, completely lined in red crushed velvet and leopard, cheetah, and zebra prints. The stripper pole was mounted on a round piece of black marble, and for an area that was supposed to be laced with scandal, it looked awfully classy.
They were waiting there, right? Paparazzi didn't like people showing up late, even if she was always late for things.