Morningstar Manor

Rhiannon stood in line in the Mocha in a pale yellow sun dress, smiling down at Harvey who refused to answer any questions about the necklace constructed of blue and green yarn woven together, with a big, orange construction paper heart hanging against his chest. Arms crossed, he scowled when Rhiannon prodded him gently.
"Is she pretty?" She asked.
"I hate girls!" Harvey announced, cheeks pink.

***

Smith was on his way into the lobby, still shaking his head about the day at work he'd had. He was a security person - not a nanny. People were so goddamn ridiculous sometimes.

***

Niles sat out in the garden with his guitar laying beside him forgotten as he frowned at some paper work in his lap. It seemed as though his father was in some financial trouble. Why anyone expected him to care was beyond him, though he didn't throw the notice away immediately. Fuck.

***

Declan was up in the hot tub, blatantly hogging most of it as he yawned and attempted to relax. It had been a long, long day.

***

Sterrin was in the mail room, taking her time in sorting her mail from her brother's and Jack's. She really needed to get her own place soon.

Kris had almost a full day of hair styling scheduled, but he also had laundry to do, having had a bit of a mishap with a mug of coffee and the trailing edge of his comforter. So into the laundry and he began to stuff the machine, the skin of his back crawling as it had been all morning.

He glanced round.

Nobody there.

It crawled again so he glanced round.

Still nobody there.

###

Guy hadn't heard anything back from the Manor - but then it was only a couple of days and his application had been speculative. He still had his fingers crossed though and he opened the window and took a breath of air untainted by disinfectant. At least the cab no longer stank of vomit. He was heartily sick of picking up drunks.

Even though he was a little preoccupied he still spotted the raised hand of a prospective fare and pulled over with a grin.

###

Ben ticked another item off on his list and smiled at Kelsey as she passed with a tray of mugs of coffee from the Auberge. He had found the shop fitters worked harder and more willingly if they were supervised and if the coffee kept coming. It would be his turn to go in an hour.

"Is one of those mine?" he asked Kelsey and she grinned and nodded to a mug on it's own in a corner.

Tea.

But somehow significant, Ben thought as he took it, of certain aspects of his life. Yes, the mug alone in the corner fitted.

Kris was at the Spa reception desk checking his appointment book and waiting for Gabe to finish a massage so he could resume teasing him about Sarah. It was a tough job but someone had to do it. Also Gabe expected it and would be disappointed if he didn't. It showed Kris cared.

###

Vincenzo was on patrol and had, as usual ended up on the roof. The builder's rubble was gone now, the gravel neatly raked and the planters loaded with fragrant flowering plants. He checked in with Frank then clipped his radio to his belt and went to check out the pool house.

It looked fantastic with russet and turquoise tiling, white and gold paintwork and lightweight arching Triplex panels. The water flashed and rippled as a couple of tenants swam leisurely lengths. At the far end where the walls drew back the hot tub seethed quietly.

"First chance I get," he promised himself.

###

Charlie and Nia were on their way home after a very successful shopping trip. Which meant that he was laden with groceries and Nia had a helium filled balloon that was - oh joy - shaped like a manically cheerful penguin.

She bounced it a couple of times making penguin noises then dashed forward with a squeak as the elevator door opened. Charlie followed her in and held the door for someone who was coming up behind them. "Going up?" he asked.

Kris had been passing the florists and had been drawn in by the wonderful heady scent. Now he was crossing the Square with his purchases - a bunch of brilliant orange tiger lilies and a cactus of hilariously suggestive shape - and was debating what to drop of where. Celeste seemed like a good sport but would she appreciate a wang shaped cactus? Demitri on the other hand would probably find it as funny as he did.

Sometimes being sophisticated was such hard work that Kris gave it a miss.

###

Ylva was in Riverwalk Park with her lunch and a book. She was possibly a little too close to the Manor for comfort but the park was full of blondes today, she'd blend in.

She crossed long tanned legs, settled her sunglasses more firmly on her nose and turned a page.

###

The roof garden was open again, if a little sparse of plants, and Nick was on his knees unpacking the crate that had been left for the Manor by the Sexton family. At least this time there had been family. So often, he'd heard, they had carefully packed the lost life away into boxes and crates, had sent the furniture to auction for charity and had packed everything away. Rooms and rooms full of memories and nobody to appreciate them.

But this was another matter, he thought, as he uncovered the piece of relief sculpture and the discreet little plaque he was supposed to mount near it.

###

Allan lay flat on his back in the garden, with his eyes closed and his arms spread out. The un shone down and he was warm and drowsy and full of lunch and thinking hard about his latest bronze. It was back and he was halfway through finishing it and he was worried that Deacon and Charlie wouldn't like it. It hadn't turned out the way he'd intended at all.

But he'd worry about that later. For now he was warm - and might go to sleep.

One of the advantages of Antique Apparel being so close to the Manor, was being able to get home sharp after closing up. Celeste had done her hair and makeup in the salon downstairs, changing last thing before she shut the shop. She was hoping Kris appreciated the outfit, at least. A dark purple silk dress with a tight pencil skirt, seamed stockings and black peeptoes. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, a purple flower the same colour as the dress holding her hair away from her face.

Checking her lipstick in her compact, she walked into the lobby of Morningstar, looking around for Kris.

A lot of people seemed to have had odd dreams the past week. Demitri had had some as well. He'd been back in Australia - never having lost his parents or having come to the Manor. He wasn't sure how he felt about it either. He liked his life at the Manor. His life with his parents was hard to even remember.

Still, when he felt off, there was really only one thing he could do to feel better and that was dance. He had no real classes today - just a two private lessons - and those had been finished a few hours ago so now he opened the big french doors that looked out onto the Square and let the summer breeze blow in, turned up the music, and danced for no one but himself.

Vincenzo was having a break in the conservatory, which was just as well as he was trying to deal with a call from his mother. "I know," he said. "Well, we have been telling her to look for a better job. It's not her fault it's in Chicago. No ... no, I won't tell her she can't go. Good luck to her. And it's not as though she'll be leaving before the wedding. She has insisted on being free for that. Yes, if necessary I'll take her there myself. AND check out her accommodation. Sure Mom, yes I will. Yes, bye, Mom."

He put down the phone and gave a deep sigh. Between his sister exulting because she had landed a good job in Chicago and his mother complaining because ditto life was getting overly complicated.

###

Guy had been summoned to pick up one of the tenants - Mrs Phillips, a real looker who tipped well, so he could put up with her leading comments about the length of his shifts and what he did in his spare time - but today he was a little early so he leaned against the hood of his cab and texted Sean, grinning as he got a reply.

###

Kris had laundry. Rosa had offered to do it for him but today he was in the mood for some tedious drudgery - while Gabe accepted and stowed a load of Spa supplies. Naughty, yes, but oh so satisfying.

He grinned as he ambled across the lobby on his way to wash his Egyptian cotton sheets, as yet unshared, but surely only a matter of time.

###

Nick yawned as the elevator opened into the lobby. Mrs Eddings chuckled and waved him out.

"I hope that means you've been having a good time," she said in her cracked and wheezy old lady voice.

"Oh you betcha," he lied and she went on her way happy.

Nick yawned again and headed for the basement to fetch another lock and set of keys. Second time this month Mr Paris had got locked out but why did he always have to break the door down?

Show off.

###

Charlie had dropped Nia off at day care and was now drawing in the Mocha. Vincenzo looked troubled, Guy looked cheerful, Kris looked like he was planning something and Nick - Nick looked exhausted.

Angling his pencil Charlie sketched them all into the drawing he was constructing, but tilted the page coyly whenever someone walked behind him. Gay vampire pirate cartoons weren't to everyone's taste.

They couldn't have asked for better weather. Here - away from the City and the Manor - Spring was stirring and even though the wind coming off the lake was still cool the day was warm. Warm enough for light jackets anyway and breakfast on the back deck.

This time Deacon had gotten up early to start breakfast, letting Charlie sleep in a bit - or at least as long as he could before Nia woke up and pounced on him. Nick arrived shortly after Deacon had gotten the coffee going and Deacon had sent him out to hide the eggs. When he came back in Deacon handed him a big cup of coffee.

"None hidden to high for little girls right?" he asked the big man.

"Nope," Nick said with a grin. "But I hid a few little things at about Seth's eyeline. Don't see why the kiddies should have all the fun." ( Read more... )

They had lucked out over the suite. Every year they booked a nice one with two bedrooms and plenty of space but this year Kris's last minute determination to take Demitri with him could have caused problems. It was sheer dumb luck that the hotel had a cancellation and so they were able to get a three bedroomed suite for almost the same price as their more modest accommodation.

Suites at the Rennaissance were expensive but so worth it.

Rising early, as was his habit even after a crazy night like last night, Kris showered and got himself a glass of chilled fruit juice and took it out onto the balcony to wait for either of his suite-mates to wake up, or breakfast or both.

There was a lull - blessed lull! So Kris picked up his phone and made a call.

"Hi Pam - yeah it's me. Is Lewis available please?"

Dancing was one hell of a work out, true, but Demitri liked to go to the gym from time to time to work on other things. Like upper body. Lord knew he didn't want to be hugely muscled but the right kind of work out kept his shoulders and back, chest and arms looking nicely toned and sculpted while the dancing kept abs, legs and butt looking good.

With his headphones on he didn't hear anyone come in and the last time he'd glanced in the mirror he hadn't seen anyone. But that didn't stop the tingle going up his neck as he worked on the rowing machine. He froze for a moment, frowning, then shook it off and kept going.

Ten minutes later though he couldn't ignore it anymore and stopped, taking out his earphones and looking around. Of course he didn't see anything but he knew Kevin was there. Taking a deep breath he spoke.

"I know you're there," he said, gaze stopping in the general area he thought Kevin was. "You can't keep doing this. If you're wanting to talk to me then talk to me. But don't stalk me."

There was no answer, just the nagging feeling that he was being watched. He tried to go back to his work out but couldn't stand being watched with nothing be said for any longer.

"Fine," Demitri growled, standing up and grabbing his towel, quickly wiping down the machine. "Fine you want to stand there and watch me? Then watch me walk away."

Grabbing his bottle of water he stormed from the gym and headed straight for the spa.

The start of a new week and the Mocha was hopping.

Deacon had dropped Nia off at the daycare already as he and Charlie both had things that needed to get done. Charlie of course had the gallery. Deacon needed to take the cars to get their new inspection stickers and do some general shopping. But first - coffee. Charlie was still getting ready and had had to take a phone call and Deacon would likely be gone before he got down there so Deacon just got himself a coffee and found a place to sit and enjoy it before going on the first of his errands.

****

Eris was in the Mocha as well, once again at a table and looking through brochures on warm sunny beaches.

****

Seth entered the Mocha just after Deacon had left, passing in the doorway and exchanging a few words. Now, coffee in hand, he sat at a table and sipped his drink as he happily sketched the passers by.

****

Gabe was in the Mocha as well, sprawled on a couch and sipping his coffee and idly flipping through a fashion magazine.

****

There was one customer not quite at the Mocha yet but oh he was ready for it. Rhys had just gotten off a forty eight hour shift and was slouched in the back of a cab headed for the Manor. He was exhausted and looking forward to his bed but his stomach was rumbling and he didn't have the energy to make something so he'd stop in the Mocha first, get something to eat and some decaf coffee and then sleep for a day. Maybe two.

He coughed, and that cough turned into a bit of a coughing fit and when he could breath again he murmured an apology to the cab driver. Looks like his boss had been right. Rhys was sick. And a sick doctor was not what you wanted in the ER of a hospital. Maybe that forced time off wouldn't be so bad after all.

Charlie's phone call had been cryptic to say the least but Kris had gathered that Demitri was upset about something his ex had done and might be in need of someone to talk to.

"You in fact," Charlie had said and had filled him in on the best time to find Demitri at home.

Kris could take a hint so turned up there, just after Charlie had said Demitri would be home, and tapped on the door.

His plane was due to leave in three hours, so Lewis was taking advantage of the Mocha for a last time. He was holding court, you could almost say. He went over the pictures of the shoot with the photographer, telling him several times that he actually found the effects in the background of the basement shoot quite interesting. Shadows like horrible faces on the walls, little lost girls down long corridors -- that was provocative. Well, perhaps not the one with the dead rat.

And he talked to a few of his impromptu models; when that big girl came up to tell him how much fun it had been, he spontaneously gave her the outfits she's been modelling. Anything that had made it into the catalogue was now being manufactured in Slovakia and Hungary already, anyway, by hundreds of experienced seamstresses, to hit the boutiques when the seasons changed again.  These had been the prototypes, but were no longer unique.

Pammie brought him another coffee, unasked. He'd be nothing without her.

Kris wasn't sure whether it was just general tiredness - and boy, was he whacked! - or the news about poor Lee Macqueen, but Kris found that he was just TOO tired to sleep.

He lay curled on the couch, idly flicking from channel to channel on the tv with the volume down as low as it would go, with his mind racing.

It was a good hour before he remembered Demitri's offer - and that he had said 'Any time - three am - I don't mind'. Demitri had smiled and added, "I don't sleep that well myself".

Kris checked his watch, tussled with his conscience, then got dressed in tee-shirt and sweat pants, slipped his feet into his crocs and headed down to Demitri's apartment.

He hesitated before knocking, but knock he did.

The pool house had been specially warmed for the occasion and extra loungers brought up. Screens had been erected for the models to change behind and everything was ready for the beautiful people to arrive.

They had their schedules - the ones who would be wearing the collection items and those who would be providing a back drop - and it was anticipated that the shoot would last most of the day and maybe into the evening. There was no knowing.

[ooc: Party post so tag in and let the pups chat amongst themselves, or if they want input from one of the staff, please give us a poke.]

All the boxes had been emptied, and the ball room was full of clothes and clothes and clothes, on racks and on chairs and in stacks and in bags.

There were a few makeshift curtains between the pillars, and Lewis was hopping between them like a goblin, bringing new suggestions for outfits, or parading his makeshift models in front of a big mirror.

He was being followed by a calm woman in her fifties who was wordlessly scribbling on a large pad, Andras who was snapping the 'winning' outfits with a compact camera, and a little girl of about five who just gaped at everything and tried to stay out of the way.

When Andras almost fell over her, he just turned, grabbed her, put them on his shoulders before she could even squeal, and just carried on working as if she wasn't there.

Into the Mocha they went and Kris looked around, seeing a few of the gorgeous faces and bodies he had hoped to see, and he cleared his throat and tapped on a table to attract their attention.

"Um - ladies, gentlemen," he said, "we are in - frankly - awful trouble and are hoping some of you might be kind enough to help us out. The fact is - we have a designer and a complete collection of clothing but the photographer and all the models are stuck in Switzerland. So - would you be prepared to wear Lewis's clothes and have photos taken? What do you say?"

He looked round hopefully. "Anyone?"

"No!! NO!!! NO!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!"

Somebody was on one of the balconies, talking on his phone, and shouting at the top of his lungs with melodramatic desperation, his voice echoing all through the gardens.

"No!! Not in Chamonix!"

Please!

Please please please, come and take me away from all this!!

Please - just a couple of hours doing something where it doesn't matter a damn what anyone looks like.

Help me, Drop Dead Gorgeous, you are my only hope!

The Angel's Spa signature at the bottom was probably enough of a clue who sent it.