Realistic or Modern Billionaire Babies ✈

[Diminium]

The appearance of the blonde girl who introduced herself as Jo led to small bits of flirting to all come her way. He leaned back, closing his eyes. She wanted this flirting, it was etched in her smile. That other teen, Holland... Floyd caught sight of his black eye, angry and swollen. "Get in a bit of a tussle?" he muttered under his breath. Not like he hadn't gotten a speeding ticket 3 days ago, however. He bet that if he'd ask, almost everyone would have a similar story.


His phone buzzed, and he quickly grabbed it to stop it from going off again. He had set the buzzer to the starman jingle from the original Super Mario, and his ears burned red. If they noticed, he hoped they didn't care.


Felicity: We ran into some difficultly, but I'll be coming over soon


Felicity: I hope you're alright, Floy.


He didn't have time to ask what "some difficulty" meant, but the care slipped quietly away, as the same girl, who didn't interest him much, (not yet, anyways) turned to face him and Barton, giving them a wide smile. He returned the gesture, although not with flirtatious intent. "Hey. Jo, was it?" Two could play at any game, especially this one. "How can I help you, love?"





@Keira Winston

 

[VintageBlues]

HOLLAND IAN KINGSTON


June 20th, 2016 3:45 PM


Holland bit his lip, groaning at the thought of having to go on live television with a black eye. The girl's reaction was enough to confirm that his eye looked just as bad as it felt. He tried to hide his anxiety with a nervous smile, "yeah, uh- late night at the bar I guess." He still couldn't quite remember everything that had happened the night before.


As if on cue, Ruby walked towards him with a large first aid kit and a bag full of ice. The first aid kit looked as if it could fit an entire emergency room. He groaned once again as Ruby dropped the bag of ice onto his lap. "Okay, the lady at the front desk happened to have some medical experience. She suggested that you rest this bag of ice below, not on, your eye and rub this ointment on the swollen parts." Ruby frantically searched through the first aid kit while talking. She eventually found the ointment and held it up like a trophy. "Also, I called Alyssa, your PR, and you're in so much trouble." A devious smile lifted up her cheeks as she dabbed ointment around his eyelid.


Holland pushed her hand away and let out yet another groan. "Seriously? It's a black eye not a bullet wound. And in case you didn't know, i'm not a five year old and can take care of myself. I don't need Alyssa's constant monitoring and I sure as hell don't need you here. Please, just leave." He collapsed against the couch and pressed the ice pack against his eye. Ruby stood for a moment, clearly shocked.





"I know you're having a shitty time right now, but that doesn't give you-" She stopped as the blonde, plastic interviewer approached the lounge. The woman picked up on the tension in the room and awkwardly cleared her throat.





"We're going on air in about 15 minutes. The stage manager," she nodded towards a nervous looking girl, "will take you all to the set when you're ready. Oh, and if you need hair or make up adjustments then our staff will be sure to take care of that!" She smiled one last time, flipping her thick curls over her shoulder. Holland watched as the woman walked away, the reality of the interview finally sinking in...




​

 

[Keira Winston]

June 20th, 2016 3:45 pm


​

The total fuck up. That was not the impression Joelle wanted to leave, especially for a guy like Holland. Great, he's just going to know me as the girl who screwed up his interview for him, she thought wishing she could redo the last few minutes. She didn't think her game has gotten that rusty. She actually thought it was a good move. If only he didn't have a swollen black eye. What made it even worse was that her attempt to distract the Brits, who were seated the closest to them, from it actually drew more of their attention to the eye. The blond one had definitely caught sight of it. Though Jo didn't try to be the center of attention, she somehow always managed to be it. Due to her stature and walk, it was hard not to grab attention. She'd gotten so used to her walk, so much that she didn't even notice, and her job required her to bring attention towards her.


"No, I totally get it. It happens," Jo said to Holland with a hint of pity. The last couple of days must have been hard for him. With their parents gone, it was hard for all of the teens. She had tried to hide her grief, but deep down it had really hurt.


"If it makes you feel any better, it doesn't look that bad," she lied. "It makes you look tougher," she added smirking. Jo has always had a thing for bad boys, and she dug the tough look.


Jo's attention shifted back to the Brits when the blond one took the intentions of her smile as something else. She raised an eyebrow at the blond slightly confused. Jo had almost forgotten that she had flashed one of her award-winning smiles. Certain people took the smile differently. Sure, it was supposed to be a distraction, but if he was willing to play games, so was she.


"I'm fine, but let me know if you need anything, babe," she said to the blond matching his tone. Her voice was like silk. Jo was told it always sounded flirty, but this time, she wasn't trying to flirt. She was just trying to have fun.


Jo rolled her eyes seeing the lady with the permanent smile return to the room. She had quite some exciting news to share: the interview was beginning in 15 minutes. That announcement brought Jo back into reality. It reminded her why she was really here. For the first time, the interview felt real. It was really happening. Was it too late to back out now?




@VintageBlues @Diminium

​

 

[Aes]

{ϑ}Sylvie Valette

Sylvie could only watch as many others shuffled into the lounge area, a mix of young adults from different countries and cultures from what she could tell. She immediately noticed the different accents that poured into the air, unavoidable if they were going to make real conversation. She would often fake a French accent when speaking English to her mom during visits, but wasn’t about to do that now to a bunch of strangers. At least her mom knew that the accent was fake. Boredom would force her to drop the accent in front of these people within seconds anyways. At the thought of her mom, her heart skipped a beat. Never mind focusing on the rest of them, talking about her parents was why she came. Although her relationship with them was distant and occasional, she still cared about them in a sort of filial piety way. They made her, so she loved them.
​

She felt a buzzing against her and it took her a moment to realize it was her. Well, her cell phone. Biting back a curse, she took out her phone and silenced it before checking for the cause of the crazy amount of notifications. Carla. Of course. Calling would be inappropriate, but texting was always safe. She scrolled through the texts, noting that nothing was of major importance. Still, it was just like her to send millions of texts just to check up. She was thinking about how to respond when the painfully stiff yet perky blonde woman showed up again. “Waiting for it to start. Will update you later,” she quickly sent, slipping the phone into her bag and turning her attention to whatever announcement was next.


15 minutes. Suddenly, she was aware of how close the interview really was. She didn’t need to do hair or makeup or whatever. Carla had meticulously picked an outfit for her and she was too tired to resist before leaving France. The less she needed to think about the better. Still, Carla’s outfit wasn’t something she felt herself in. She was dressed in a rich, silky floral blouse and a pleated baby blue skirt along with black heels and a bold azure purse. She looked pretty good, so Carla had done an excellent job, but it just wasn’t something she would have picked herself. Overall, she looked very polished, rich, and well behaved, just like the good girl she was taught to play. The only thing not perfectly in place was her hair: blonde and curly and unwilling to behave like the rest of her. She had placed it in a high bun but a few shorter strands still managed to slip out, tickling her cheeks every so often in an annoying way. As if reminded of her hair again, she reached up absentmindedly and brushed a strand behind her ear, knowing fully that it would dislodge itself somehow in a matter of seconds.


As a matter of fact, she was not the sweet mirage her clothes portrayed. She had worn denim shorts underneath the skirt just in case she wanted to take it off after the awful interview. Her sharp blue eyes examined the room mischievously as if she were planning a prank or something. Her right hand lazily traced designs on her knee just as she remembered to cross them in a ladylike fashion. All in all, she was just bored and a little jet lagged from her flight. She had gone straight from the airport to the interview, only stopping to drop off her luggage at where she was staying.


She noticed the conversation around her growing. There was casual conversation, light flirting, and the awkward blonde lady with the uncomfortable smile. If this was how Americans acted in America, maybe she’d just leave straight for France after this was over. She exhaled quietly, unsure if she wanted to go first or not. Normally she would want to get it over with, but something about the 'death of both parents, leaving an orphan daughter to talk about them in front of millions' scene didn't quite appeal to her.

 

[Lady Em]

Melanie Alocove

Melanie smiled to herself. She enjoyed being the observant one. She watched as one of the kids smoothly introduced himself to the blonde. She was in awe at how beautiful the blonde was and applauded him for approaching her. She continued watching them to note the blonde giving a slight wince for some reason. Unfortunately Melanie couldn't' see his face given his back was to her, but she sensed something was off. 'Hm....I wonder if he said something awkward?' She jumped slightly hearing her phone buzzing. It was going off to the tone of the assassin's creed 3 theme. She pulled out her phone and attempted to silence it but ended up actually answering the call. She quickly hung up and texted Mr.Whitin. “Heh, sorry I left you at the airport, honest. The interview starts in 15 minutes so I’ll text you later.” She turned her phone off knowing he would probably call her again to scold her. She sighed and turned her attention once again to the blonde interviewer. She made Melanie very uneasy. It was if she could see into her soul. “I hope we can get this over with. I wanna go explore L.A.” she huffed. She slouched in her seat slowly losing interest with the others. It wasn’t intentional, she just didn’t feel comfortable yet. Although she wouldn’t mind talking to the beautiful blonde. But that was her charm in a sense. Being observant but quickly forgotten. It was how she got away with all of her shenanigans. She laughed out loud to herself thinking of all the fun times she had causing trouble and confusion. She stopped immediately thinking the others would see her as crazy. Instead she continued watching the blonde and taking note of her surroundings.

 

[mephistopheles]

The sight of Holland's black eye made Barton feel much better about his recent actions. When he had received the news of his parent's death the first thing he wanted to do was go out and drink. However, the thought of being around people deterred him from a drunken night out on the town. Instead he drank alone in his room and marathoned his father's movies for two days without sleeping. It wasn't the best idea because it made him feel like shit at the time, but at least he wasn't showing up to an interview with a black eye. "I hope you hit the bloke that busted your eye with twice the force."


Barton hadn't thought much of Jo's smile, assuming it was an attempt to distract them from the revealed black eye. He observed the conversation that took place between Floyd and Jo trying to decide if they were actually flirting. His attention left the two quickly as he heard the voice of the plastic blonde woman announcing that the interview would start in 15 minutes. He pulled out his phone and opened Snapchat to check on the appearance of his hair, taking a picture to add to his story. He had been absent from social media since receiving the news which was already creating problems on celebrity gossip websites. A couple of his friends had taken the liberty of sending him screenshots of their favorite online articles that had popped up over the past two days. His personal favorite was an article that pronounced him dead and assumed that he too had been on the family jet. It was sad that he couldn't even grieve in peace without the media jumping to wild conclusions.


To Portia W:


Interview is starting soon. Can I skip a question if it's shit? Can I say 'no your question is shit, ask another'?


From Portia W:


Barton, no.


He chuckled at her simple response and imagined that she was flipping off her phone. The mood of the room had changed since the announcement of the soon approaching interview. A girl with a blonde bun wearing a polished outfit caught his attention as his eyes wandered around the room. He hadn't noticed her arrival, or had she already been there when he arrived? Either way he turned his body towards her and smiled. "What kinds of questions do you think they'll ask? All of the ones I've thought of in my head are stupid. They'll probably ask the stupid ones first."


@VintageBlues @Aes

 

[Aes]

{ϑ}Sylvie Valette

​

It took a second for Sylvie to realize that the guy was talking to her, with her jet lagged and bored mind and whatnot. She eyed him curiously with surprise. She had heard him and the blonde guy attempting to flirt with the blonde girl, so she had made the decision to ignore them for a short while. Flirting was young and seductive and great, but it wasn't exciting. Occasionally cheesy and gag-worthy, but never exciting. Her hand paused its lazy tracing as she looked at him curiously, her eyes catching on some guy's black eye behind him before focusing on the person who spoke. British, she noted, as she listened to him finish. "I guess you'll be over-prepared for the first minute and a half of stupid questions, if that's the case," she answered impulsively, her mouth tugging into a cheeky smile as the words slipping out before she had a chance to even process them. Aside from her horror at this impulsiveness during her first real conversation in America, she was still proud of herself for conversing in English in a public social setting. No accent, no stammering...still got it, Sylvie, she silently praised herself. Maybe the adjustment wouldn't be as hard as anticipated.





"Sorry, that was a little rude," she continued with a small, breathy laugh, the wheels in her head obviously spinning for a response to his question. She closed her eyes briefly as she leaned back, relaxing against the back of the bold, red couch, fluttering open once her back touched the back of the couch. She hoped that none of their questions would be too personal or rude, as if digging for some scandalous answer that didn't exist. She hated it when people asked prying, uncomfortable questions meant to make the interviewee squirm. Personally, she didn't want to talk about the fight that occurred right before they left for their journey to eternal sleep, so she was hoping her charm would do wonders in helping to avoid such questions. "I hope you were expecting a serious answer because, honestly, I think they'll ask us about our relationships with our parents, the days that led up to their deaths, thoughts on their deaths, stuff like that....hopefully they won't pry into our personal lives." She paused, realizing too late that perhaps he wasn't expecting a serious, thought-out answer; perhaps he was just looking for a light, fluffy, witty response to alleviate the heavy grieving he was going through. Recently, she had been making an effort to put other people's perspectives in her thoughts, but this usually resulted in guilt for not seeing something like this sooner. I'm a fun gal today, aren't I? she thought miserably, making a mental note to never talk to anyone within twelve hours of getting off a long plane ride ever again. After all, who wouldn't be able to think of such a simple answer? This interview was meant to discuss one thing and everyone in this room knew it, including this guy. Unless he was wasted and out of his right mind, she was an oblivious fool.


She held his eye contact evenly and comfortably, a talent one gets when lacking self awareness and social fear. "Tell me more about these stupid questions of yours," she added with a raise of her eyebrows and smile to show that she wasn't being completely sober and serious. She sat up, already bored with the previous position."I don't want to be a mess for that first minute and a half. My reputation is on the line here, in your hands." There it was, the wit and charm and chattiness that kept prompting her dad to bring her to events. She was a natural at small talk and social gatherings, he had said. He had really wanted her to learn about investments and business, but her mathematical mind was more interested in other areas. If anything, she was always more worried about being unable to stop when placed into a social setting and wearing herself out. However, her current worry was to make sure she didn't put anyone in a worse mood than they were in when they stepped foot into the room. If there was going to be a Debbie Downer in this group, it certainly wasn't going to be Sylvie Marie Valette. She would make sure of that.





@mephistopheles