xo_ I just need some spa time [[open]]

[Stella Adams]

Here she is...

[/color]

It wouldn't be the first, or second time Stella had tumbled off her bed and then decided to march down to the spa. No, this would be her fourth time in the whole four months she had been here. Stella adores her sleep, and of course usually went to bed early. She couldn't stand being nudged so hard until she awoke. But at least this gave her a lovely excuse to go get a pedicure and a manicure.

Who nudged her? Usually her puppy who was always struggling to get more room on the bed. Stella got to her knees and eyed her dog and shook her head. She brought herself to her feet and let out a small sigh. "I guess it never hurts to go for /another/ spa treatment," she muttered, frustrated at her dog's actions. She snatched her brush from her night stand and ran it through her tangled red-brown hair, grunting as it tugged at the many tangles. She replaced her penguin pajama-shorts with a more suitable black ruffle mini skirt. She left her white tank-top on deciding that it didn't look half bad with the skirt.

Making her way to the door, she tripped and fell down multiple times. She was afraid to turn on the lights until she had a hold on the door knob. She extended her left arm and felt up and down the well trying to find the light switch. At last her fingers brushed gently over it, just enough to allow the switch to flick up. The room was filled with a bright light which made Stella squint and moan. She surveyed the room for her purse and quickly snatched it off a small table near the door. She flicked the light off and opened the door.

Finally after about ten minutes she reached the front door and basically rammed it open. The hallway was such a difference from the dark room, it was full of light and quite a few people still up and walking around. Just before entering the hall, she slipped on her comfortable pair of skater shoes. "Ugh, I better not be seen by anyone important wearing this ugly ensemble," she muttered entering the hall and closing the door.

A few sighs escaped her lips before she reached the elevator. She had already gotten a few weird stares at the way she was dressed. Stella couldn't deny it, if she were passing a girl dressed this bizarre, she would stare at them too. She pressed the elevator button and waited patiently. Finally the door made a loud "ding" sound to announce the elevator's arrival. She stepped inside, and she was nestled between a family covered in fancy clothing and expensive jewelry. "Great," she grunted under her breath. It was one thing to get weird stares from people in the hall, but the people surround Stella, they look down right disgusted.

As soon as the elevator stopped on the floor she wanted, Stella bolted toward the spa. What was so wrong with dressing for comfort? Was it illegal in this hotel or something?[/size]

Making her usual entrance[/color][/center]

[Daylin Connors]

i'm a__

It was bright &&early and Princess Connors was already out of bed and showered. In fact, she had less-than-silently crept past Whitley's bedroom to the kitchenette in their humble little suite to fix herself a cup of hot joe, in just a pink thong and matching lacey bra, no less. Sipping the overly sweetened latte, she walked back into her room and into the adjoining bathroom. Flicking on the lights, she stood before the large vanity mirror and grimaced. An absolute look of disgust had made it's way onto her surgery-enhanced facial features. "Ewww..." she groaned, whipping out her makeup bag to prepare herself for the public eye.

But before she got into makeup, she gingerly removed the medium curlers from her hair, running her fingers through them with shine serum to separate the oh-so loose ringlets and reduce frizz. Now she needed to insure they'd hold. And so she coated her hair in maximum-hold hairspray and smiled.

First, it was a thin layer of matte foundation, followed by a light powdering. Afterwards, she expertly applied some orangey coral eyeshadow. Then, she rimmed those baby blues in some black kohl and ran a bit of black mascara along her lashes. Only to enhance volume, of course. Parting her plump lips just slightly, she lined them in a shade of pale coral and then ran a stick of similarly colored lipstick along them before dabbing on shimmery gloss for a final touch. After the final application of subtle blush, Barbie was ready. Daylin gazed into the mirror at her reflexion for a good ten minutes before moving on to her closet.

DC reached into the depths of said closet, yanking on a white Victoria's Secret strapless dress. Pulling off her bra, she slid into the dress. It was a slightly flared shape, with a smocked bodice and ruffled skirt. The hem ended at just above mid-thigh. Sexy, borderline slutty, and 100% Daylin. Now for shoes; she searched out her coveted white Dior open-toe sandal wedges. Doing a couple twirls in the full-length mirror beside her bed, she smiled approvingly.

Before she even left her room, she spritzed on a bit of Yves Saint Laurent Baby Doll Eau de Toilette and pulled her white Guess leather hand bag up onto her arm. Slipping on a pair of white-rimmed Chanel sunglasses over her pale blue peepers, she finally exited the hotel room, allowing the door to slam noisily behind her, and walked into the elevator.

Inside, she found herself in the company of some 13-year-old girl and her friend. They immediately fixed their gazes upon her, the very epitome of teenage perfection. Daylin looked to the adoring girls, her smile fading only to be replaced with a grimace. How dare they wear layers? That's so fall. I mean, mini skirts over tights? Helloo!? "Ehmygawdd. Please, don't go out in public like that. EVER," she scolded disapprovingly before exiting the gaudy overly-gold plated elevator.

As she exited the hotel lobby, she glanced back at the doorman. "Don't forget to walk Cali today, Enrique!" she hissed, palming the native a $50 before continuing to the spa. After that party last night downtown, Daylin so needed a mani &&pedi. It was when she was on her way to Soltana that she saw one of her girls. "Stella!!" she screeched across the 10 feet or so between them. Ehmahgawdd. Look at her outfit!! Not only does the white &&black ensemble severely lack color, but those shoes. Ohdearjesus, those shoes!! "What the hell are you wearing, Adams?" she demanded, gesturing towards the shoes. Time of day wasn't taken into account when Daylin decided to be a heartless bitch.

&&diva

[Stella Adams]

Caught at the scene of

Stella quickly pivoted on the heel of her shoe, she was desperatley hoping that it wasn't anyone too important who had criticized her fashion choice. Her eyes then rested on the disgusted Daylin and Stella's heart sank. They queen of fashion and one of her best friends had just seen her wearing one of the year's biggest fashion no-nos. "Uhh... it was just something I slipped on, part of it's my pajamas and part of it is just something I randomly bought and... well my shoes have their own explanation, they're for comfort," she chuckled nervously knawing her bottom lip. She eyed Daylin's outfit and nodded. "At least /you/ look gorgeous, I just really didn't have anytime to put something full of glam together," she sighed brushing her hair with her hands on to her shoulders.

"I know it's completely tasteless and pretty much a fashion disaster, and a lot of people are staring at me like I'm a hobo from the streets, but to sum it all up, it's for comfort and that's basically it," she finally finished shaking her head. I knew I should've taken the extra ten minutes to make my ensemble more presentable, I'm gonna look like such a freak. Compared to Daylin, Stella did indeed look a lot like trailor trash, some people would probably assume that Daylin had brought along a poor girl to get a spa treatment. That is of course until the small blond girl behind the desk called out her name.

"Stella!" the girl exclaimed with a classic grin across her fully glossed lips. Stella turned her head away from Daylin and smiled at the small girl behind the desk.

"Hey Betsy," she greeted with a formal nod. "Can we get a treatment, right now?" she questioned cocking her head to the left in an innocent way. Betsy glanced down at the leather notebook and ran her manicured nail down the page.

"You sure can, how many... two? she inquired tapping her fingures on the granite counter top. Stella gave a subtle nod and Betsy quickly scribbled in "Stella + 1."

"Okay, so if my outfit is bothering you that much I can go change before we go in or something," she offered with a slight shrug.

Fashion crime

[Daylin Connors]

&&+pace__

Daylin listened half-heartedly to her explanation. Excuses, excuses, you look like a train wreck and you're about to be seen with me.

Rolling her eyes, she placed a immaculately French manicured hand on her friend's shoulder. "Hunnie, fashion over comfort. Always. Always, always, always," she preached, which was her right as fashion goddess.

So to tell the truth, she was rather embarrassed to be seen with this fashion faux pas. Well, more like horridly embarrassed. She'd just have to make the most of it, turn the situation to her advantage. Hey, Stella had complimented her, so her ego had been on the receiving-end of a tiny boost. And compared to her, Daylin looked, like, absolutely gorgeous. So it made her look even more fab than she had expected. No loss there.

"So, like, I guess you can go into the spa with me dressed like that, but //this//," she paused, gesturing to Stella's outfit with her slender fingers, "is never going to happen again. Whether I'm here or not. And you're //so// changing before we go to lunch. If necessary, we can go to the Plaza."

There was DC for you, making plans for the people around her. She wasn't going to abandon her BFFN (best friend for now) over something like this. But if she did it again... no guarantees.

She watched Stella interact with the poor excuse for a female behind the counter and resisted the urge to hurl. It may have nice nails, but it was just like putting lipstick on a pig. Good thing she'd run into Stella, so she wouldn't have to be seen speaking with this "Betsy". Once she'd scheduled in her &&Stella's mani and pedi appointments, she casually flicked her loosely curled platinum locks back behind her shoulder and strolled over to the spa pedicure chairs.

First, she pulled off her Dior open-toed sandal wedges and set them aside. Then, setting her bag on the floor beside the chair, she climbed atop the chair. It was like a mountain to the frail 5'4" girl, but the posh leather was nice. She was almost prepared to be pampered, but she needed refreshment first. "Hey, you!" she screeched at one of the employees across the room. "Get me, like, a drink. I'm thirsty," she instructed.

The woman turned out to be a massage therapist, hardly anyone to serve a pedicure client like Daylin. And she certainly had better things to do than get drinks. So she stared at her, bewildered.

"Uhmm, did I stutter? Diet water. Like, now," Daylin repeated, growing increasingly annoyed with this stupid bitch.

yourself;;

[Milo Ventimiglia]

Getting out of bed wasn't hard for the star considering early starts was just one consequence for being in a movie that's usually shot at dawn. Nevertheless, he was up and dressed at seven, downing his usual protein filled drink. He had to stick to a good daily diet and keep up with his excercise, because he wasn't gifted with a high metabolism meaning he had to work twice as hard to keep his figure.

Soon finishing his strange tasting shake, he dawdled over to his lavish bedroom, glancing out the window at the beach before pushing through the door. What to wear... It wasn't long until he found one of his many designer collar shirts, this one being a dark blue in colour. Searching out a pair of dark wash jeans, he put those on as well. But that wouldn't do, because he had to check himself in the mirror, incase the paparazzi ran into him. Though they were told to keep their distance... but one could never be too careful. He walked over to the eye level mirror, casting a critical eye over his hair. A little gel would perfect it. He grabbed the tub and put a tiny bit on his hands, skimming it over his wavy black hair. Yup. Perfect.

After a quick go over with his favourite scent Desire, he pulled on a pair of black dress shoes and grabbed his wallet, heading out the door. A movie star wasn't complete without a personal assistant/bodyguard. And where was he? Right where he always was, outside his door, standing inconspicuously while Milo got himself ready. He didn't even have to be told as Milo passed him, heading for the elevator, because he just tagged along at a distance as usual. Milo got the usual starstruck stares as he got into the elevator, making sure it was empty before his assistant got in with him. He was going to need a massage after all the stress he was under for his next shoot.

They soon got to the lobby floor and the doors opened. Damnit.. A crowd. This wasn't good, "Quick, James, gimme your shades." He hissed in a low tone, hardly waiting for him to hand him the shades before pulling them off his face and shoving them on, hoping they'd make a good enough disguise. The two hurried through the crowd, avoiding glances and the chance of being noticed. Because damn, if Milo was noticed, it could mean a riot.

They got to the entrance and continued to Spa Soltana, relieved that their makeshift plan had worked. It was a miracle. Sighing, Milo walked into the Spa area, casting a glance around, noticing a couple of girls. Hot, yeah, but he was here for himself.

"Mr. Ventimiglia, was it just a massage today?" The lady at the desk spoke up, surprisingly professional in his company. He nodded, pulling of the shades he had taken from James and handed them back. Let's hope that he doesn't get mobbed here either.

[Daylin Connors]

relaxx;;

After, like, twenty minutes, the oh-so //average// massage therapist brought her a 'diet' water. "I'd say thanks, but, like, it's your job," Daylin told her, taking the water and having a sip.

"Ehmygawdd!! Is this AQUAFINA?!?? I only drink European water. Like Pellegrino or somethingg. Fix it!!" she ordered, thrusting the glass of water back into the possession of the stunned employee. "Bitch..." the lady muttered as she walked away.

"I heard that, you dyke!!" Daylin shouted after her, sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed and her signature pout clearly displayed on her features: jutted out lower lip, puppy eyes, everything. All it took was this look and her daddy would buy her the world.

It was just about then she noticed some gawjuss guy walk into the spa. He looked familiar. Taking a longer look, her baby blues grew wide as he recognized the familiar face. "Ehmygawdd!! Shuttupp. That is //so// not Milo Ventimiglia," she said aloud to herself, partially to Stella too but not really. Poor Stella probably didn't even know who this Hollywood God was.

Standing up, she didn't even bother to pick up her purse or shoes before power-walking across the distance between herself and delicious Milo. It was a matter of seconds before Daylin was standing right before him. He wasn't as tall as he seemed on TV, but he was even hotter in person.

"Ehmygawdd, you're Milo, right? Will you, like, give me an autograph??" she asked, her eyes as big as the expensive rims on her Porsche Boxster S. Could you blame her? He's a gorgeous celeb.

♥take it easy

[Milo Ventimiglia]

After the massage and everything was paid for, he started towards where his massage would take place. God, he could use some of that coconut stuff they used last time...

But his plans were interrupted by some girl asking him for an autograph. James quickly assumed the position of defence. Milo looked at the girl, deciding he could make an exception for this one, "Hold on James, it's fine." He instructed, watching as the guy clad in black stepped aside before turning his attention to Daylin, finally cracking one of his charming grins, "Yeah i'm Milo and sure you can have an autograph. You're not with the press, are you?" He questioned. It was just one of those things he had to ask, just incase she calls every other paper and they come storming down here ready to ruin his day of relaxation.

With a subtle look in James' direction, the guy walked over to where Milo was going to get his massage, taking a seat as instructed. Milo then returned his focus to Daylin, pulling out a pen from his pocket, "Where'd you want it?" He questioned, referring to what he was signing. Because, he'd signed the bizarrest things. From the usual autograph books, to bras, to life sized pop ups of himself. Yep, he'd seen it all.

[Daylin Connors]

Daylin stepped back, kinda freaked out by the huge-ass man who'd just run interference. Ohkayy, so she wasn't going to like rape him or anythingg. Honestly.

Looking back to the oh-so gawjuss Milo, DC took a moment to process his question before she shook her head. "Nooope. Just your sexiest fan evahh," she teased, her carefully glossed lips parting to reveal those unnaturally white-as-fuck teeth of hers.

He already had the pen and everything! Woww, this guy was like 10 steps ahead of her. Fersherr.

Thinking it over a second, she realised she didn't have anything to sign. No poster, no DVD case, no photo, no nothing. So, thinking fast on her feet, she hiked up her strapless Victoria's Secret dress and pointed a perfectly French manicured index finger at the right side of her chest. "Right over my heart," she told him with a flirty grin.

"Wait... that's this side, huhh?" Her eyes left his for a moment as she pictured some biology diagram from school, trying to remember which side. "Here," she pointed to her left, actually over her heart this time, smiling.

[Milo Ventimiglia]

Milo smirked at her response. Was this chick a suck up or what. Though he couldn't blame her, he was a famous actor after all. But whatever, it's not like she was making much of an impression on him anyway, he was used to the whole fangirl thing by now.

He watched her search for something that he could sign, prepared to pull out one of his cards incase she failed. But he didn't need to as she adjusted her dress and pointed to, where she thought was, her heart. He was about to correct her in the politest way possible but she soon picked up and changed sides. Over her heart? He'd never had that one before. He dropped his hand to her dress, pausing for a minute before lifting his mocha eyes up to her, "Sorry, what was your name?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow. After all, he couldn't write a unique autograph without saying something to her in it.

[Daylin Connors]

Daylin watched his every move, her pale blue eyes incredibly wide as she observed her favourite actor of all time. Could you blame her?? The guy's damn sexy. But she doubted he was phased by her, considering he was used to having fans. Surely she's the prettiest, though, and the blondest, and the skinniest, and the tannest... etc. etc.

He was actually gonna sign over her heart. Awwwhhh. Wait, of course he was! She's Daylin Connors, dammit, and she gets what she wants.

Until now, she hadn't realised she'd failed to introduce herself. "Daylin. D-A-Y-L-I-N," she spelled it out because she'd endured her entire educational career with teachers pronouncing her name incorrectly and spelling it every single WRONG way possible. And the //last// thing she wanted was an autograph from Milo Ventimiglia with her name spelled wrong. That'd be //tragic//.

"Soo, Milo, what brings you to Cabo?" she asked him curiously, already on first name basis. Hey, any excuse to talk to this sexy specimen of manliness before her. The thought never occurred to her that he was here to //relax// and get away from his hectic life where fans mauled him on a daily basis.

[Milo Ventimiglia]

He nodded and averted his eyes back to her dress, scribbling something down and finished with his signature.
it read;
Daylin,
Have a great time in Cabo.
Milo Ventimiglia.
But that wasn't all, because he continued writing, this time much smaller underneath. But it wasn't more writing, it was numbers. His mobile number to be exact. Hey, he had thre freedom of no paparazzi, so why not have some fun while he was away.

He straightened back up and slipped the pen into his pocket, listening to her next question, "I'm here for a movie. It's being shot down on the beach..." He replied, though thought for a minute, "You should check it out." He finished,almost hesitant to say it. There were always risks.

[Daylin Connors]

Daylin attempted to look down at what he'd written. But it was hard &&even then, the writing was upside down. Day can't read upside down... that would take an IQ of above 40. What she did recognise, was 10 digits.

Ooohh... his numahh. Oh man, that was an ego boost she HADN'T needed. She was hott enough to get a celeb's number without even //askingg//? Wowwiee. Smokin'.

"Yeah?" she asked, a tad surprised that he'd invited her to the set. Maybe she was more gorgeouss than she'd realised. "Uhmmm... I guess I //could// check it out sometime... when I'm not busy with tanning and shopping and stuff," she told him with a shrug.

DC was trying to play it off like she had better stuff to do. But there was NOTHING better than Milo Ventimiglia. "I've got to get back to my pedi, but uhh, maybe I'll give you a call," she smiled, standing up on her tippy-toes so she would be at his level. Her hand on his upper arm for balance, she quickly planted a peck on his cheek.

"Thanks for the autograph," she told him with a wink, turning &&heading back to the pedicure station she'd come from. "Don't forget to wipe off the lip gloss!" she called behind her.

Resuming her seat on her throne, Daylin sat back and watched Milo with a grin.

[Milo Ventimiglia]

So she was playing it cool? He could counter that, "Oh, don't worry then, i'm sure you have more /important/ things to do. No worries." He replied with a shrug, resisting the urge to crack a smile. Oh man, it was fun to fool around with fans, "Besides, it's not that important, it's just a surfing scene." He added. If she wasn't too dim, she'd probably realise that meant he'd be topless. Oh yeah.

He nodded, slightly surprised that she decided to plant one on his cheek. Ofcourse, it went under the watchful eye of James. Nothing went past him, "No problem." He replied casually, lifting a hand to wipe what she'd left on his cheek. Ew.

He sauntered over to the massage table, peeling off his collar shirt before assuming his position stomach down on the table. He could never go past a good massage, hell, it had even put him to sleep once. He folded his arms infront of him and rested his head sideways, ready for the woman to begin her magic.

[wowposter]

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