| People Will Talk |
[18 Oct 2007|05:49pm] |
"Breana! Over here!"
The light bulbs were going off all around her and Breana was doing her best to smile through the nerves, putting her best foot forward as her mother had always been fond of saying.
She had gotten the invitation to this movie premiere several weeks ago and tossed around the decision of whether to go or not at all and after much persuading from her agent she'd finally accepted.
Breana had some of the best designers working for her and all of them were responsible for the very striking red dress now clinging to the assets that almost every viewer got a look at during her time on screen as Bethany Richards.
She turned into another camera, letting her glossy lips part into another jaw aching smile. Breana had already answered questions and had spoken about her love for Birthright amongst other things.
Currently she was praying that she didn't trip over the heels that she'd worn to accentuate her legs and the flow of the dress.
In Hollywood, people talked. It was the nature of the town, especially if you were in show business, and in Hollywood, everyone was in show business. From the girl who bagged your groceries at the supermarket to the guy who cut his grass at six in the morning, there were wanna-be actors, actresses, screenwriters and directors everywhere you looked. And thos people all talked. Gossiped, really.
People had been gossiping about Gwen Hawkins ever since her first marriage crashed and burned, leaving her broke and her movie career in the toilet. Her not-lamented-at-all husband Trevor had spent all of his money and most of hers on drugs, hookers and cars until he very publicly dumped and divorced her for a nineteen-year-old model/actress with the IQ of a boiled turnip. Thus began her downward spiral into bankruptcy and the beginning of her grudge against the 'little snots'.
( Gossip Magnets )
Once a rough sequence of credits started to roll, Gwen extended her hand and wrapped her fingers around Breana's. She had never really cared that much about who talked or what they said anyway. When you'd gotten as many bumps and bruises as she had, you either got a helmet or you developed a thicker skin. She'd done both.
Breana's lips tugged into a wry smile at Gwen's comments and she relaxed back into her seat, trying to find a comfortable way to sit and once she had she settled there. It was only when she felt Gwen's hand close around hers that Breana turned her head, glancing at their hands before looking at Gwen. She offered the other woman a smile and squeezed her hand, figuring the support and the reassurance of Gwen's presence couldn't go amiss.
Just two friends, holding hands casually. And people began to talk.....
|
|