HARDLY WORKING, {Mature} Celebreality TV

[blaire]

A slightly mournful pout crossed the model’s face as she took in Taylor’s rejection – well, damn; was she really such an unfortunate person to be around? – and tossed a reassuring smile to her so-seeming ‘clique-mates’. Despite the affable expression on the ‘Queen’s’ face, the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio doubtless had their own thoughts about Andrews’s rejection. Sabryna had always been… charitable to her, to say the least; Elias would know that she was some big shot, but also not beneath his girlfriend’s very well-concealed offense. Zac’s statement amused her, however, and she laughed as though inadvertently informing the others that the singer wouldn’t be rebuked for his comment to Sabryna – not yet, anyway, since she knew her beloved best friend could be quite the bitch in response. Her easy dismissal of it seemed to illustrate the peaceable role she opted to play in the competition, and she fluttered her eyelashes coyly as though charmed by Dresden’s sense of humour.

“C’mon,” Daphne told him, somewhat encouraging in her tone. “I’m just an old-timer on this scene. You’re the one with talent, idiot! There’s nothing flattering about having me tell the truth, no matter what my record sales are.” And damn, did she know how to pay compliment – all light-hearted and innocent, with that pixie-like expression on her face as the next man of the day came pulling up.

As leader as the “I’m-The-Most-Famous-So-HA!” group, Daphne seemed all too happy to let her dearly cherished compatriots handle the arrogant sass for her.

"Oh, Ethan," Daphne sighed, fanning herself lightly. "How I love the beautiful people."

“Ethan Loza? Is that you, gorgeous?” The inquiry was made in the pleasant trill of her professional voice, sounding like a modeling agent who was all-too-happy to see her favorite muse. It didn’t matter if models knew each other personally or not – at least, on the female side of the profession. Everyone knew everyone else’s face – their rankings, their shoots, their favorite employers – and the competition between them was a never ending game of show-booking and product-selling. Whether or not she’d ever had a competition with Ethan – she might’ve worked an intimate shoot with him, or else never been on the same side of the planet in the entirety of her life – it was more or less a given that she knew who the general public was drooling over between the covers of their magazines. Male models – even if the female half of the business only considered them ‘accessories’ to a soot – were the average consumer’s favorite part of a spread.

“I didn’t know they were hiring A&F’s greeter gods,” she exclaimed fondly, eying him as though very pleased with the sight. She wouldn’t lie – as appealing as her real-world Kenny Kim could be, even he could learn a thing or two from Loza about taste. “What in the world are you doing here? Didn’t Dior Homme want you for a campaign? Don’t worry - we haven’t started anything important.” If Daphne had glimpsed the goodbye he gave to his dearly departed cell phone, she didn’t comment with anything more than the upward twitch of her lips. Oh, yes – the thought of models mucking stables wasn’t a pretty one. Even she could agree on that, no matter how prepared she was to roll up her designer sleeves and get things done.

Her buoyant mood seemed to cringe slightly at the appearance of a ridiculously late – okay, so maybe she was being a smidge biased, since she’d forgiven the delay before Loza’s appearance – as a rather ostentatious limousine pulled up.

“Mimi?” She voiced, unsure what the cameraman was asking. “What about – oh, the limousine. It’s just – well, I find limousines in bad taste when you’re coming in alone. I do have my own driver during the week in case I need to make a formal appearance somewhere, but limousines… they’re running out of fashion. I’m not sure why you’d want to pull up in one to a reality TV show but then… well, maybe I’m being a little hypocritical. It’s not like my car is exceptionally commonplace, either! It’s not my place to say anything.”

The socialite heiress that came along seemed to have perfectly recited her greetings. Like Daphne, she was immaculately groomed – although Daphne seemed to grimace at the sight of diamonds on her feet – and old money seemed to ooze from everything she wore. From her bright teeth to her expensive clothing, it seemed as though the two were made to be alike. Daphne caught her mischievous look, returned it with an adoring smile, and reached out with her hands at once to clasp Mimi’s, moving to kiss the air beside the other’s cheeks. “Mimi, darling!” she exclaimed pleasantly, as though they were the best of friends. “It’s been so long! How is dear old dad doing? My father’s been thinking of booking his favorite place for a business dinner – I do hope your father will indulge them with his presence-“

She blushed appropriately, a charming pink filling her lips at Mimi’s compliment, and she looked over at Elias with an expression that seemed to be filled to the brim with pride and affection. Fortunately enough, her boyfriend knew the expression to instead cry, ‘Oh, dear Lord. I'm touching it. I'm touching it! Please, kill me now.’

Every Queen knew a poseur when she saw one. Aristocracy, after all, had its own nuances.

Nevertheless, her very deep disturbance with Mimi was carefully concealed, giving no other sign than that. She instead banked back on the woman’s first inquiry, responding with a bright smile.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she purred pleasantly, looking back up at the mansion. Her tone was very distinctly one of, ‘I’ve guessed something you haven’t’, and she eyed the structure with a carefully cordial look. “Do any of you recognize this place? I – well, I don’t know. I wouldn’t be so eager to go in.”

[Chiasma]

[ OCC: My PB is Kate Walsh, a la glasses. CLICK
Also, I'm writing this at 3AM and I'm tired so, if I made some errors with character locations or something like that, please let me know and I will edit!]

A woman with auburn hair, wearing a gray knitted turtleneck and jeans hurried down the road in her family car, muttering to herself, cursing herself for being almost late. Joanna "Jo" Vargas hit the breaks of her black Dodge at the yard of the mansion where she would spend her time for at least the next week. When she had been asked to join the cast she couldn't have refused. It would have been like a Catholic Christian burning their bible on the doorsteps of the Vatican. She was a comedian whose act was spiced up with celebrity mockery and jokes. This was a perfect opportunity to get more material. That was pretty much the only reason she had agreed to do a reality show, again. It had been a long time ago, but she had gotten discovered through a reality show of sorts. Though she dared to claim that even with jokes about genitalia in the program, it had still been more dignified than getting a bunch of celebrities and shoving them into a relatively small space with each other. She had come a long way from the time of her first reality show. She had become a news anchor on a humorous, satirical news broadcast. She was recognized for her wit and intelligence, she was a bestselling author and a stand-up comedian. But she was not into the party scene and her life was relatively dull so she had avoided the spotlight, allowing her to lead a life that was between a D-lister and a C-lister.

Jo grabbed her takeout cup of coffee and stepped outside her vehicle. She looked at the beautiful view: A bunch of celebrities, huddled into a pack of stupidity. Well, she did know some of them were smarter than others, but people like Sabryna...oh yes. Jo was no stranger to mocking her kind. Jo was not afraid of mocking celebrities, or confronting them right after. She had found that a lot of these younger stars were intimidated by her wit that could strike anywhere at any time. They were afraid of the battle of wits. Jo was happy about that. It saved a lot of time for her. If every celebrity or politician wanted to confront her she wouldn't have time for anything else.

A smirk rose to Jo's lips as she looked at the group through her glasses. Like a vulture she was looking for the weak members of the herd, the ones who would be easiest to make jokes about. Who would be able to take her humor on? Would any of them appreciate her sense of humor? Were these people able to laugh at themselves? If they weren't, they would surely hate Joanna. But yet again, what's new about that?

"Hello America! I am Jo Vargas. No, not the French painter. And no, not the lady who served you at the diner yesterday...I had a day off, I served you the day before." She smiled and winked.

"I'm the second grade celebrity, the D-lister comedian, that you don't recognize...unless you are a college student and happen to watch TV late at night." She shrugged, still smiling. She was not shy about the fact that she was not really the target of the lime lights. It often actually forked for her favor.

She grabbed her bag from the backseat of her car, which caused her to have a dilemma. She had brought an extra cup of coffee but now she had no free hand to use for carrying it. Ah, cup holder...thingy. Seriously, I've studied politics, I do political satires, I'm smart! And I still can't say what this damn cardboard cup holder is called. Just a cup holder? That's disappointing. I shall call it the special flabbergabberdigeridoo. She grabbed a cardboard cup holder from the passenger's seat after placing her own coffee next to the other one that stood in the holder firmly. Then she turned and headed for the group of people who were already chatting around.

" You know, this is one of the few places where I would not like to sleep with any of the women." She smiled at the camera, arching one of her brows, pretending half-heartedly to be ponderous. "But I'm still going to have fun." Her smile turned into a grin.

Jo was now close to the new American Idol kid, she could sense how people were bothered by the kid smoking near them. The boy had some balls. Vargas appreciated balls, in a figurative manner of course. She stopped next to him and laid her bag onto the ground. "I like you." She pointed her finger at him, while wearing a lopsided grin. "You can have the extra coffee." She picked up her own coffee and shoved the cup holder and the other coffee at his face. "Oh, hey, weren't you the guy who Simon Cowell user as a personal chewing toy? That was some great entertainment!" She chuckled.

[Spotty]

All Eyes on Me.---
The rooms had better be nice. Sabryna decided against voicing that opinion, instead following Elias' gaze to the "Hardly Working" mansion. They really needed to get better writers for this show...the names were truly horrible...

At that moment, her sights found the American Idol, eyebrow lifting quizically and out of a certain degree of amusement.

Of course she knew this show was for charity. Her agent had only schooled her at least ten times the evening before on the different key points -- the only points -- she was allowed to make on the animal rights organization.

"Well then," Sabryna mused, rewarding Zac with one of her brightest smiles. She also flicked her gaze towards Daphne as her best friend engaged in laughter, "I'm glad that the goodwill of this show could extend past just the various organizations we're representing."

"Wait a second. You said someone called me a bitch?" Sabryna snorted, settling back into her seat with quiet laughter, "No, don't tell me; let me guess, it was Elias, right? Asshole." It was a good-natured reply.

Dismissing Zac Dresden, Sabryna turned her green-eyes on Ethan Loza, snorting in response to his comment, "Right? At least we'll be in good company, yeah Ethan?" She could be diplomatic, especially if it meant exchanging words with the best dressed male of the bunch. Sorry Elias.

At the arrival of Miriam Porter, Sabryna was forced to move her hand to cover her mouth, hiding her combination of horror and disbelief of the disgusting, tacky entrance by pretending to cough in response to Zac's chimney-like ways. Following Daph's lead, she offered a rehearsed smile, nodding in a polite fashion, "Love the bag, Miriam."

"Did you see Miriam's last season Dolce?"

But her feelings on the various different occurances, from Daphne's well executed implications and the subtle meanings only the other two thirds of the Golden Trio were meant to recognize -- disguised as greetings, no less -- came to a screeching halt at the arrival of the final...person.

"Who is that woman? ...I'm sorry? Is she like...some washed up actress or something?" The girl blinked at the producer's reply, expression still drawing a blank. "Jo Vargas? Is that a stripper name?"

Sabryna subconsciously stepped nearer to Daphne, folding her arms across her chest with a lifted brow. Were they just letting anyone wander onto the set? Where the hell was her body guard anyway?

Dismissing Jo as she had Zac, they could have each other, Sabryna sized up each of the other persons from her peripherals. There were some definite hits and misses and some were going to be decidedly apologetic for their poor behavior. Too bad. Regarding Daphne, her lips twitched in a mostly unnoticeable manner, Ready, BFF?

[TheElevatedEl]

Zac peeked around Daphne as she chuckled and met Sabryna’s eyes. He countered her bright smile with one of his own. “Selfless of them, isn’t it? It’s nice to know not everyone in show biz is as cold, heartless, selfish, fake, and shallow as us po’ workin’ folk are lead to believe.” He winked, and turned his attention back to Daphne, making it quite clear exactly who he considered ‘cold, heartless, selfish, fake, and shallow’- and it wasn’t Daphne Paige. He had met girls like Sabryna Spence before- girls who would jab and bitch and judge as long as they were allowed, girls who thought just because they were rich and beautiful, they were entirely above the rest of society. It was a game he had learned long ago- he couldn’t directly call her names- that would just be rude- but even the most thinly veiled insult could fly as long as he didn’t come out directly and say Hey Sabryna! Piss Off. This way, if she tried to accuse him of insulting her he could always smile kindly and say “If Miss Spence took insult, I apologize. I was just making a statement. What makes you think I was referring to her?” If he was lucky she would take the hint that he was not one to be fucked with and take her little jabs to someone who actually gave a shit what she thought.

He smiled genuinely at Daphne, taken in by her charm just as easily as if she had cast some sort of spell. “Well thank you all the same. It still means a lot.” He had every intention of saying more- of even flirting a bit (Elias Lee be damned- not that he had anything against the guy but he’d much rather charm the stunning Miss Paige then her not so attractive- at least to him- boyfriend) but before he could say much more, Daphne’s attention was whirled elsewhere and she flitted away like the social butterfly she was.

Zachariah was still contentedly puffing his cigarette as the next few ‘guests’ arrived. Taylor Andrews seemed the quiet one so far- he was fairly certain she was the only one who hadn’t said anything. Next came Ethan- everything about this man simply screamed ‘I’m attractive and I know it.’ The Idol star didn’t necessarily find anything wrong with that so far- it depended on whether or not the guy was a complete douche- as far as Zach was concerned, arrogance and being spoiled didn’t always equal ‘asshole.’ But the first words out of Ethan’s mouth definitely threw a red flag Zac’s way. A tiny puff of smoke escaped his lips as he snorted with laughter. “You mean as opposed to a fake people job?” This wasn’t necessarily a mean spirited comment. Zac had a way of looking like he was simply one’s best friend teasing whenever he made such comments. The light smirk that played along his attractive mouth was a testament to his good nature.

“As someone who’s had his fair share of ‘real people jobs’ already, I gatta say I’m getting less and less worried.” He grinned. “I mean, I’m not one to gloat or count my chickens before they hatch but… speaking as a guy from middle America… some of this is a little ridiculous.”

Next came Mimi and this time Zac let his eyebrows shoot skyward. She didn’t really seem like a mean sort of person- God knows she had said enough upon her arrival for him to get a good feel of her personality- but his recent comment to Ethan sprung to mind as he considered her. It was all he could do not to mutter, “I stand corrected. I absolutely understand the difference between a real person and a fake person. Sorry I ever questioned your wisdom.” Her comments to him were made so quickly that he really didn’t have much time to respond. He managed to nod his head, smile, lift the hand holding the cigarette in acknowledgement… and that was about it. Honestly, to some extent he wasn’t even sure if anything she had said had actually counted as a compliment. She did however, make him feel a little stupid about not taking the time to read up more on his opponents. It hadn’t really occurred to him that that would have been the polite thing to do, but now, looking at the people he had yet to speak to, he realized he did seem like a bit of an ass. Oh well.

“I…er… She and Daphne both defiantly seemed to have done their homework.” He was obviously trying to be diplomatic. His hesitancy made it obvious that Zac didn’t exactly think the highest of Miriam. “I mean, that was something that never even occurred to me but it feels so obvious now that I should of looked the others up, you know, done a bit of research. I guess I just assumed I’d learn as I went along, but for the most part, I just feel like an ass.” He grinned lopsidedly.

And finally! Someone who didn’t (Aside from Daphne, of course- and Taylor) have a stick shoved up their ass! Zac snorted as Jo Vargus boldly proclaimed ‘I like you’ and thrust a coffee in his face. He took it, considered it for a moment, than flicked his cigarette away. “Thanks.” His lips curled in a happy, bemused sort of smirk. “Uh, yeah. That would be me. Zac Dresden.” He grinned, thrust out a hand. “Although I think ‘tried’ would be a more accurate term. Guy’s… more of a teething puppy than a pit bull.” He grinned lopsidedly, knowing he was probably the only person in American Idol history who would say that- and probably the only one who had a right to. “Not that those little teeth can’t be damn sharp sometimes.” He winced, then grinned at his own terrible metaphor and took a sip of coffee. “Mmmm. Thanks.” He said again. Coffee and cigarettes. What more could a guy ask for?

“Jo Vargus.” Zac’s only response was to laugh, but it was not derisive in the least. “I like her.”

[Iumi]

You say goodbye, and I say hello…

She laughs abruptly, but only an unhappy ‘Ha.’ “I guess it was close to what people would consider a ‘social suicide’, politely,” she emphasized the word carefully, “declining to join Daphne. Sometimes, I just don’t really feel like I fit in with her tight-knit group. Elias, Sabryna, and herself? Maybe too much drama for me…” She laughs nervously, but stops herself, looking down at her hands, which are folded in her lap.

… Maybe that wasn’t the best of reactions to Daphne Paige acknowledging her, but it was all that she could manage at the moment. Taylor was hoping that she would be… spared… from choosing a side on the first day of shooting, but having gone over to join the Three Musketeers probably would’ve sealed her fate and made her into ‘one of those’ celebrities, the ones which seemed to think that the world was wrapped around their finger. This… this would be hell to pay in the form of Daphne’s wrath, unless she was to tread ever-so-lightly upon the line between Paige’s good graces and discontent.

Glancing over, she noted that only Daphne so far had seen her little… faux pas, as Sabryna continued to make remarks about Zac. That… that was why she was wary about joining the Golden Trio. At the arrival of Ethan, she whipped her head around at his comment. "Sorry I'm late, everyone, I hope I didn't stall the show or anything. Can you believe this? Real people jobs? Ugh," …Seriously?! She crossed her arms, and shifted to her right foot. At least it was easy to tell that- well, - he wouldn’t be getting very far. Taylor shook her head in disgust, then laughed quietly when Zac commented about ‘fake people jobs’.

“I really can’t believe what he said. Real people jobs? It seems like he’s in for a rude awakening.” She laughs happily, “But I don’t doubt that there are some people who may be able to survive this, but I have to admit that I think there’s very few of us who are actually prepared.”

…Hello, Hello…

“I really feel like there’s a divide in our group. I mean, it’s not like we’re set on hurting each other, but I see very little ‘Peace and Love’ right now…” Her left hand rests below her chin, pointer finger under her nose, middle finger near her lip, and thumb on her jaw, as if in a deep thought; her head is angled slightly downwards. “And we haven’t even started. I really hope…” She doesn’t finish her sentence…

Taylor was caught off guard when approached by Mimi, being complemented about her songs and tour. “Oh, thank you.” She said, a smile on her face, “I’m very glad you liked it. And yeah, I did write most of my own songs.” The heiress abruptly moved away and towards Ethan, leaving the singer slightly confused. Uhm… okay. And the girl’s obvious waste of money? Ridiculous. Those sparkly little heels? Taylor again shook her head in disgust. God, how could she be expected to live with those drama queens and their lackeys?

… I don’t know why you say goodbye, I say hello…

As soon as Jo appeared, thrusting coffee into people’s faces, and Taylor covered her mouth as if she was coughing to stifle her laugh as the comedian joked around with Zac. She felt slightly more… comfortable… around these two than Daph and the Golden Trio, although she had this little thought in her mind that the Queen Bee would take this (again) as an insult, and therefore decide to crush the singer in any way possible.

… Oh. Joy.

[ooc] Taylor’s PB happens to be… -gasp!- Taylor Swift. >.> Except with a few strands of darker blonde almost brown hair. ^^ [/ooc]

[Stace]

Elias didn't really care one way or another about Taylor. He knew she existed, but it didn't really bother him that she had declined Daphne's invitation -- it was her loss anyway.

But then he caught Daphne's look. She smiled toward Sabryna and Elias, but it seemed more like a "can you believe it!?" look than anything else. Suddenly, Taylor was no longer a neutral figure in his mind. She'd just stepped to the dark side.

"Taylor? She's okay, I guess. I don't know her," he said to the camera. "But I can tell that Zac guy is going to piss me off."

It wouldn't be long before people realized just how protective Elias was. Of course, Daphne was free to speak with whomever she wanted, but people had damn better be careful what they said to her. Elias was not willing to watch anyone flirt or hit on his woman, and knowing the flirting game pretty well himself, he could tell that Zac was borderline flirting. If Elias had been out of earshot, he could have guaranteed that Zac wouldn't have watched his mouth so closely. Thankfully, Daphne had moved on and Elias didn't have to keep an eye on Zac for too long.

"So we're standing there, waiting for things to finally get on a roll, and Miriam Porter comes around basically going to each of us and paying compliments like she's reading them off her palm," he gives an incredulous laugh and look to the camera, "If she's trying to impress someone, she's not off to a great start."

OHGOD. BABIES!? Elias would have fainted if Daphne had shown any interest in what Mimi had to say. Thankfully, Daphne seemed as unimpressed by Miriam as he was and absolutely disgusted to pretend being nice to her. At least, that's what he got from the look she shot to him. He had become fairly accurate at deciphering Daphne's many encrypted facial expressions -- and he wasn't afraid to admit that he was an amazing boyfriend for that fact.

It took a little bit of effort to keep from laughing out loud at that look. So he tried to focus on something else while Daphne continued to basically play hostess to the mansion. This changed his attention to Ethan who had made the "real people" comment.

"Maybe it's because my family is from a culture where you don't use informal language with strangers, but... does it bother anyone else that everyone keeps acting like they've been friends without ever having actually met the other person?" He crosses his arms and nods decidedly. "I blame my mother."

[roaringatlions]

From the time Ethan got there, he had already pretty much talked to half the people. Well, half of the social people. He recognized everyone, anyway. Actually, almost everyone. The girl that stood next to the newest "Idol Star" was someone he'd never seen before.

"When I first got there, I was all, 'Oh, I know all these people! Until I saw this random girl standing next to the winner of American Idol. And, then I was all 'Who is that?'" Ethan bursts out in a small fit of laughter.

When Daphne came up to him and mentioned his photo shoot, a small frown spread on his lips. "Yes, I did, however we had to reschedule. I hate doing that to them. My fans were so excited." Ethan ran a hand through his hair and eyed Paige's body. "How has your shoots been going? You should contact me sometime and see about maybe doing a shoot together. I wouldn't mind," he grinned at the girl before turning towards Zac.

"Yes, as opposed to fake people jobs, much like the ones you might, I don't know, win from something," he shrugged and gave him a smile. "I suppose you wouldn't know anything about those."

"Zac. I have two words for that boy. Tacky bitch. Anyone who thinks they're tough shit because they won 'American Idol' is obviously mistaken. I mean, no one even remembers those people in a few years. Seriously. Kelly who?" Ethan smiles towards the camera. "Oh well, that means I don't have to remember him in two years."

Feeling a little less inclined in socializing, Ethan decided to call over his guard and talk a little to him about things that weren't of much importance. After a while, the man began to get bored and couldn't take much more of standing around.

"So, are we allowed to check this thing out yet or do we have to camp outside for the next few weeks?"

[Spotty]

Well baby, I'm a put-on-a-show kind of girl...---
"'Po workin' folk?" Sabryna pronounces each of the syllables with a look of disgust, her nose wrinkling in distaste, "Is that some kind of ghetto slang I'm not familiar with?" She rolls her eyes.

Zacariah was ignored, except for a brief flicking of her eyes skywards, and her gaze finally settled on her fingernails. She wasn't too pleased Ethan brushed aside her offhand remark, but it was to be expected, especially with sparks already beginning to fly, mixed among the half-hearted greetings. The model's comment even further persuaded her to forgive him when he remarked on jobs that were won, clearly targeting Zac. Sabryna snickered, pretending to find interest within her expensive bag. Things would only become perfect if Ethan and Zac decided to throw fists. It would be a pity to see Ethan kicked off the show for violence, but... she'd help load Zac's belongings back into the first taxi available.

"So I'm convinced that the host wasn't sure what time the first shots were supposed to occur. I mean, we were standing out there for all of fifteen minutes, don't these people understand they're wasting our ti--our charity's time." Sabryna sits up in the chair straighter, placing her hands in her lap delicately, "I, for one, am totally ready to start raising money for the animals."

The teenager decided not to comment on the mansion, nor if they were allowed to go inside or not. Her agent specifically mentioned a lavish place to live, free liquor, -- so long as she promised to party away from cameras -- and fun. There was no need to be impatient; besides...she just had more time with her cell phone. Which, to her chagrin, she still had received no texts from one Beau McKnight. Asshole.

"I don't understand the no cell phone thing, it sucks. Let me speak to my agent."

[blaire]

“Jo Vargus!” Daphne claps her hands together, seeming about to explode in excitement. She grins broadly, looks up the ceiling as though thinking about something particularly fantastic, and looks back to the camera after a bit of prodding. “Yes, yes – oh god! I know. Father despises the woman. She does political humour, too, and – well, you don’t want Jo Vargus taking the mick out of you. She’s vicious during an election, even if it’s all in good fun. Oh, dear God, the woman will hate me!” After a moment, she subtly sobers a bit, smile still on, as though this thought legitimately bothers her. “Let’s hope we can give her a show. She’s twice the audience than the competitor. Why else would a comedian be on a reality television show?”

You see, looking over at Zach’s initial meeting with Jo, America’s It girl couldn’t help but giggle, charmed, by the entire scene. Sharp-eyed, she watched Taylor inch in with them, settling comfortably as though this were more the type of people she could surround herself with. A saintly thought, perhaps, someone would say – Taylor Andrews had her head on straight. Sure – sure thing. Daphne, however… Well, look at Melanie, the hotel heiress she’d befriended and publically tried to guide out of a cocaine addiction and hard partying. Look at Elias, man-whore of a boyfriend that he was. Look at Sabryna. These were flawed people, but real people, even if their lives – to say it in Ethan’s terms – weren’t. The fact that Taylor had slighted her out of an obligation to aesthetics…

Daphne’s smile slipped slightly, displeased by the inquiry asked. This was a new face for the camera – one of serious contempt, and it was so out-of-place on the actress’s face that it was a slap on the face. It was the look of a diplomat that had been slighted by an ignorant. “Social suicide.” The word is said darkly, blankly, as though she can’t believe what she’s being told. “You think…” she says the word carefully measured, as though testing the asker’s intelligence. “You think there’s anything polite about dismissing people because you want to look good for cameras? Please.” There was something seriously hurt about the performer’s expression, as though she couldn’t believe what had been suggested to her.

“The only reason you don’t speak to someone you don’t know is because you don’t want their publicity. Because you don’t know them and you assume you do, and you don’t care about what they’re really like – only that the cameras say they’re one way, and you’re too frightened you’ll damage your image if that social display rubs off on you. Now – this is bothering me, now. What did she really say? You’re probably exaggerating. Taylor Andrews isn’t that vain. The implication – why would you ask me that? Of course I’m not going to do anything about it. I’m not some power-hungry bitch. None of us are like that.”

Ethan’s statement brought a frown to her lips, and she considered him absently. She didn’t retort the way Markson would’ve – you didn’t ask Daphne Paige to call you; you fucking called Daphne – but instead shook her head unhappily, as though agreeing that it was, in fact, a shame. “I’ve been busy all passed my concern tours – I’m not sure I managed to sleep at all until I was finished in Europe, since I was so close to the couture houses! It’s unfortunate, though – Dior’s not delaying the line debut, is it? Or will you be taking up the fall entries?” She even flashed him another dazzling, camera-careless grin at the mention of a photoshoot – how Elias seethed at some of the things she’d done! – and couldn’t help but seem appreciative of the idea. It could, some might say, be a small form of charity to have put on that reaction at all. “I would love to, you know – though I’m wedged in all directions after the show; we might not see each other until Fashion Week.” Shaking her head, the conversation was interrupted by the back-and-forth with Zach; at the mention of the building, Daphne slipped towards Sab again, face momentarily twitching into that devilish bemusement, and opened her mouth to speak –

Then paused as something sounding especially like, “RALENTISSEZ-VOUS, motherfucker!” was yelled out coarsely on the street. “Mon dieu! For fuck’s sake!” she could hear the man roaring, and she glanced over at the gates where several members of the crew were centered. A brief flash of colour startled her and she quirked a brow, puzzled, as a young, chiseled Quebecois man –she knew him as a regular production specialist with an eye for images – lurched back and a sickening crack of equipment groaned from the pavement. “You fucking lunatic! Vous - you’re speeding in a fucking – my camera! Fuck!”

“I didn’t know we had Marc Trudeau on set,” Daphne prompted Elias innocently, toying with a curl of her hair. “You think that bus got him or something? He usually doesn’t bitch so loudly.” Nevermind the question of what a speeding bus was doing so out of the way in that residential area.

Despite her callous words, when she glanced to Sabryna, Daphne allowed the light-hearted calm to ease out of her face a moment, giving her a carefully concealed smile – sly and sure.

Ready, S.

[Shadow Aurion]

”These people? Haha, baby. This is going to be insanity. I can’t imagine too many of them even know what a broom is. Maybe that Zachariah guy, or Taylor… but Spence? Lee? No way. I’d be surprised if they could even take a shower without hired help,” he smirked, clasping his hands together back behind his head. “I hope all of you folks out there in TV land like crazy antics… because I’m bringing it home!” with a wink and two slaps on his knees, the host hopped up and bolted off of camera. It was showtime, baby.

…no, it was almost showtime, as he poked his head back on screen for a moment. “Oh, yeah… the guy that got hit by my travel bus? I’ll take care of the bill at St.Mary’s, so don’t worry TV land!”
Then it was showtime.


Hooga hooga…

Ooga chakka…

Hooga hooga…

Ooga chakka…


Yes, that was music that was beginning to play from the insides of the bus, growing louder with each passing second. It was David Hasselhoff’s rendition of “Hooked on a Feeling”, to be exact. That should have been a red flag to all of the participants of this television show that they had no earthly idea what they had agreed to sign up for. If it didn’t, well… then the bus doors that had just flown open with a cry of “HIAAAAR!!!” definitely would have. The redheaded man in his white suit had quite literally kicked the doors open. He might have just stripped the gears on them by exuding so much force, but that was okay. Having a door repaired was small potatoes.

“I can’t stop this feeling… deep inside of me…” he began, strolling out of the vehicle and towards Ms. Sabryna Spence as he was apparently… singing karaoke along with the song. “Girl, you just don’t realize… what you’re gonna see.” His arm soon snaked around her shoulders, making a sweeping motion towards the mansion with his other. And… oh god, yes; he did just wiggle his eyebrows and wink at the woman.

”Yeah, Spence. Hot as hell… but that’s about all she has running for her. I’ve met rattlesnakes that are friendlier than her, and I’m not a snake person.” Swirling the plastic stir in his cold coffee a bit, he looked back into the eyes of the cameraman after taking a sip. “I’ve heard snake has an interesting taste, though. So I guess that’s another thing her and them have in common. I’d like to eat them both," he said with a lewd smirk. It was only when he saw the little blinking red light near the camera did he realize it was filming what he just said. “Oh… oh shit! HEY! YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT WAS FILMING! EDIT THAT OUT! HEY! GET BACK HERE WITH THAT, ALVIN! ALVIN!”

The cameraman had quickly bolted away the moment that Fox Lythell, the elusive host, had been caught in his natural habitat. There was no way THAT was getting edited out of this surprise confessional.

"ARGH! YOU ASSHOLE!" was the last miserable cry that came from the host's bedroom, followed by the cameraman's snickers on tape.

"When you walk in... with your eyes so bright, you're gonna find... that this ain't alright..." he finally broke away from her, walking backwards towards the mansion after getting a nice whiff of that overpriced perfume she was wearing. Fox had a hard time believing that people actually liked the smell of that stuff. And speaking of horrible smells... he threw the mansion doors open for all contestants and viewers to see. An absolutely demonic smile crawled onto his crisp, carven features as the inside was revealed to look like Hurricane Katrina got detained inside the mansion for a drink or two.

Broken glass bottles littered all over the floor, and weeks old silly string was dangling from nearly everything that could be dangled from. Crushed potato chips, punch stains, overturned tables and ruined furniture... yeah, it was a mess, and that said nothing about the smell of the building. It was a lovely mix of chocolates, alcohol... and rotting fruit, meat and vegetables. Yes, to top the screaming nightmare off, there was more molded food than you could shake a stick at, being even scattered across the stairwell.

"Ahhmmm.... YOU'RE GONNA BE CLEANING! Oooh... you'll pray that you're dreaming! I've brought gloves for freeeeee! Yeaaaah!" Fox made a gesture with his thumb at his bus as he stepped into the mansion, kicking at a halfempty bottle. "Strip this place of brandy, I hope that you don't mind.. because your first task... cleaning a mess of mine!" He stamped down onto the bottle, leaking the rest of the citrusy content into the carpet for the contestants to have to clean up.

"The mess? No, man. I didn't have a party, haha. Although that would have been a great idea. See, the deal here is, the bigwigs at corporate couldn't come up with an idea for what our sterling starlings should do for their first 'big' task. So I decided to take it onto myself and trash the place. It took a week to get it looking like this, but to see the look on their faces? It's worth it."

"I heard that 'ugh' from you, girl! But don't worry, you'll endure... I'll see that you movie flick gems... make it through the door!" Fox was backing up towards the stairs, stepping over the chaos on the carpet, and making damn sure to knock over the bucket of molasses that he had placed there just the night before. That would be a thrill for them to clean out of the rug. "On the good rug... that should turn to stone! Sugary sweet, girl... it'll make you moan... 'whyyyy, did it have to be cleaning?!' Don't lie, you'll be greiving... when I deny your plea! Aaaahmmmmooo... TO GET OUTTA CLEANING! Oh yeah, that's right. Get it all, babe."

And then he winked. Again.

"Actually, it wasn't a wink that time. My eye was starting to water from the smell and it twitched. Great, great timing on that, though."

In one final act to make this first challenge even more of a hell than it had to be, Fox threw the wirleless microphone over his shoulder... sending it careening through one of the glass windows with a horrible shatter. "Oh, you guys are going to have to fix that too, by the by. Sorry, part of the show." He started back down the stairs, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a smile that could probably be considered a hazard in the right light. "WELCOME TO HARDLY WORKING, EVERYONE! I'M YOUR HOST, FOX LYTHELL! Tonight... and tomorrow night... and the night after that... your task is a foul one. You have approximately three days to clean the Ha-Wo mansion... if you don't finish by then..."

Fox smirked. "We get to bring in some more trash! Oh, and you'll have to sleep on the floor. Because until this is cleaned up, there's not going to be any mattresses brought in. We can't get them into the bedrooms because of the trash. The good news is, whoever cleans their way into their bedroom and and accumulates the most trash in bags... gets a little leeway come the next challenge. There's a twist, though! To find the key to your room..." He gestured back towards the mess. "You have to clean your way and find it! It could be on, under or inside anything, so leave no stone unturned!" Bending down, he picked up the discarded cigarette of Zacahriah's. "Ohh, good man. Helping make it harder on the other contestants already? I like your strategy," and with that, he flicked it inside of the building.

"TV land is ready... now are you guys ready to become one of the HARDLY WORKING?"

((After much writer's block, much head pain and much nudging and waiting... >> I finally have this up. Sorry it took so long guys!))

[Chiasma]

Joanne laughed at Zac’s comments about Simon Cowell. She had to admit the boy had some balls. She loved it when celebrities took shots at each other. It was like gold for her. And she took shamelessly advantage of it just because she could. However, Jo did respect anyone who said their stuff in the public instead of spilling it all when drunk and in some VIP booth at a bar, surrounded by the “inner circle”. When people said it all in public, they showed they had guts, foolish or not. “Oooo boy you just know Cowell’s gonna take a shot at you in the next Ellen interview after he hears about this.” She chuckled, winking at the man, making a clawing movement with her hand. Then she grabbed and shook the hand he had offered. “Jo Vargas,” she introduced herself, “and may I say, Zac, I’m glad to see another person who has held a cleaning rag in their hand before.” Joanne was amused over the concept of the show and “real people jobs”. It kind of felt like cheating to hire her, and Zac, to the show. She certainly had had her share of real people jobs. Yet again maybe it was intentional. It would add the embarrassment value of the most pampered ones. I would also create drama and tension. Clever people these show creators. Jo glanced at the other people. She caught glimpses of what she thought looked like slight despise. She almost snorted over it but instead she held it in. Oh yes, my victims, enjoy while you can. I’ll see if you can take a joke.

“Someone called my name a stripper name? Hahahahaha well I suppose I should take it as a compliment: Stripper names stick on your mind like the dirty bar floor to your shoes!” Joanne Vargas laughed. “Booya!” She yelped and thrust her chest forward, winking playfully and seductively at the camera. Then she leaned back on her chair again, appearing ponderous for a fraction of a second. “You know I should make that connection more often. Maybe then people would learn to spell my name right instead of using that mutant of a name, Vargus.” She chuckled and her lopsided grin grew slightly.

Jo was about to turn and greet Taylor, who she had spotted smirking in the corner of her eye, but she was interrupted when the host of the show appeared in his flashy greater-than-life manner. She allowed her half extended arm to drop as she shifted her focus, fixing the position of her glasses. She would have time to socialize with the lovely country singer later. Jo’s brows shot up as she held in a burst of laughter dipped in disbelief when she witnessed the entrance of the man. She would have liked to jam to the song he was playing though. Then he broke the wonderful musical moment by opening the mansion doors, revealing the mother of messes to them all. “Oh god…” the silent words escaped from her lips when she saw it all. She had done her share of cleaning, but this was almost crossing the line for her. At least they hadn’t poured blood on the carpet. When the man broke the window Jo realized what a waste of resources this little entertainment experiment was. Yet again, everything these days seemed like a lot of waste. She was not thrilled about cleaning. Who would have been? She instantly knew her back would be hurting the next day, but what could she do?

“It looked like 50 frat boys had lived there! And smelled like they had died in there too!” Joanne said, resting her forehead against the palm of her hand. “I am an aunt to 5 nephews and two nieces. So, I’ve done my share of cleaning. But…that’s just awful.“ She sighed, raising her head back up. “What pains me more is that someone could have actually consumed all that food! I swear I saw a croissant there, I would have loved to have a croissant! I bet you would have too.” She grinned as if in pain over a great loss and the cameraman moved the camera, making a nodding movement to reply to her.


Jo was loyal to her habit of mostly wearing sneakers. She was especially glad about it at that very moment. At least she wouldn't be ruining anything expensive during the cleaning process. Unlike the lovely ladies who were wearing what Jo assumed were their best, not to mention expensive, heels. "Darlings, you are painfully over dressed for this." She commented, without looking away from the moldy landscape.

[Milanthia]

It had never felt like a secret that Miriam was fake to people. She assumed however, that most people didn't care that she was as real as her mother's breasts, as long as she wasn't slagging them off. In Mimi's mind, she was doing all the people in the show a great kindness in just being there. After all, she got into all the best parties, and if she made some tight connections, she might do as some did and land herself a small part in a movie or another. After all, this was great exposure.

"Of course, Daphne, of course, daddy's always got a spot for your father and I'm certain he'd join him at the table without too much coaxing. You know how dad loves a good scotch when it's with good company."

With a flutter of her mascara'd eyelashes, Mimi watched the late arrivals with a hint of disdain. Even the show's goddamned host was late. As the doors opened to the mansion however, the heiress couldn't help but gag a little.

"They want me to do what? Who the hell managed to.. god, I feel freaking ill." Mimi looked at the camera, and certainly, was looking a little green. "At least I'm not doing it on my own.. Honestly, this is disgusting!" She turned to the cameraman, shaking her head. "I'm talking to daddy's lawyers about this afterwards, surely this is against health and safety regulations to have people doing anything in somewhere so dirty."

Mimi took a few steps back as she glanced down at her diamond-laced shoes and felt a stab of severe pain well up in her chest. Those shoes were worth as much as a low-income wench's house! She balked and shook her head as she turned to the show's host with astonished eyes. "That's disgusting." Mimi growled, "Surely you've got to be joking, there's no way we'll be able to clean this hell hole in three days?"

Miriam was not a happy little heiress. Not at all.