They'll Buy You and Sell You For Celebrity Status

[Silas Axel]

"Silas, give me pouty not tired!" The chubby camera man shouted at Silas, asking him for yet another pose from yet another angle. The slim brunette was ready to leave, having not garnered much sleep the night before. In fact, he hadn't been seeping well the past few nights, with all the traveling he had to do. He was leaving his sister home alone now, and he was more than worried about the fact that she was still hanging out with that boy - he thought that maybe she would have stopped liking him, her little school girl fondness would have faded. He was sure that she wasn't fooling around, not with a boy like him. He was a creep - he gave Silas the worst vibe. Like he was a predator, hunting for his next slab of meat. The brunette man shivered, and turned toward the camera man completely. The man put his camera down and rubbed his nose. "Silas, this isn't working, let's try again tomorrow." Before Silas could protest that Camera man was leaving and the lights were being packed up. Silas felt defeated and let himself drop from his pose. At least he wasn't in any ridiculous clothing. Theshort pants he was wearing went well with his converse. And he couldn't complain that he was in a t-shirt, and not shirtless. He grabbed his bag on the way out and finally stepped out into the daylight. The weather was nice, but Paris always seemed to smell slightly off. There was bread, chocolate, and other scents - however there was also this bitter sweet scent, that stung the eyes when first hit with it. He walked over the cobblestone sidewalks, sure to let others have space to pass beside him. He'd been pick pocketed before, and was not planning on it happening again.

He had only walked a few blocks away from the antique house the shoot was taking place in when he over hear a small ruckus. There seemed to be a girl hollering, and the sound of her yells made the chivalrous man concerned. He rushed around the corner, though stopped abruptly when he saw a rather attractive brunette fussing over what was left of an ice-cream cone. He would't have normally laughed, but the triumphant looking pigeons eating the ice-cream off the ground gave Silas a good idea of what had happened here. He held a hand over his mouth, hiding his smile. It would be wrong for him to just walk away, so instead the man approached her. He spoke in french to her, unsure if she spoke English or not. "Madmoiselle, I c- you dropped you're uhm, the birds got your ice cream." He had worked out wat he was going to say so well, the realizing how beautiful she was had damned him to speak like he had a stutter. Silas kept his hands shoved into his jean pockets, now unsure if he should continue making a fool of himself or not.

 

[Rosa Antolini]

Rosa Antolini had been having quite a miserable day. Ever the optimist however, she chose to mostly ignore it. For Rosa, the day was not yet ruined. Rosa and her dance troupe of thirty had been called to Paris recently for a special fundraiser for children. Leukaemia in children was a big deal and Rosa's teachers had all jumped at the chance to be recognised internationally. A mostly full-time resident of New Zealand, Rosa had been quite excited to travel in order to dance in another country full of sick little girls and boys that she would have a hand in making happy. What made the day miserable however, was the need to cancel the festivities. France was normally such a lovely place, but overnight the hall had been trashed and so the place was full of rubbish and broken bits of glass, that Rosa and her friends were not allowed inside until it was all fixed. The festival had been cancelled until at least next week and though it meant that Rosa would be able to stay in the country a little longer, it also meant that she had to wait to help the poor little kids. Rosa, however, was determined to save the day... somehow. Undeterred by her roommates and teachers, Rosa decided she would brave the real France without her guides. This way she could go wherever she wanted and not worry about being told where to go or what to do or this place is full of bad people or that place only serves tourists and you don't want people to know you're a tourist. Honestly Rosa didn't understand the fear some people had of being labelled a tourist when that was clearly what they were. She shook her head and stepped out of the hotel and into the bright sun and stale air of Paris.

It was a relatively hot day, considering the time of year, though admittedly, she knew next to nothing about France anyway. Really she was learning as she was going, though Paris definitely wasn't what she imagined and she never wanted to use their public toilets. She'd heard all about them from Orsino who'd done way more travelling than any of them, so it made sense that he would have seen the good and the bad sides of France. She'd yet to experience it though, but she mostly stayed to the tourist areas, so that made sense. It was as Rosa was looking through the windows of all the little cafes and coffee shops that she came across an ice-cream parlour. It was tiny and almost unrecognisable, but the sweet scent of chocolate sauce had given it away. Rosa's face broke into a smile as she immediately veered into the little shop and despite not knowing any french, which turned out not to matter, Rosa managed to get herself a Bavarian Raspberry Crunch, Chocolate Ice Cream with Swiss Mocha Chips and Red Raspberry Swirl, she liked to experiment with her ice-cream. Though it was in a cone and not a in a bowl as she would have thought, Rosa was going to make the best of it. That was until she stepped out of the store and found herself attacked by a bunch of pigeons. Rosa shrieked and started swatting at them, before getting fed up and just dumping the rest of her ice-cream on the ground. She rolled her eyes and started telling the birds off in what little italian she knew. How silly of her to leave the comfort of indoors when there were dangerous ice-cream stealing birds about. Rosa looked up as she heard someone approach her and then frowned slightly when he started speaking. She had no idea what he was saying, though she did recognise the language as french. She held up her hands and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't speak french. Do you speak english by chance?"
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