03-12-2014, 08:50 PM
Perhaps taking the LBT jet over was a bad idea. Why? Well, he couldn't recall a damn thing after the plane ride. He honestly didn't remember how he got off the plane. Blurred memories tried to surface, but every time he thought he could recognize a face or "object," it would just distorted into nothing. Focusing, he was determined to recall something. Anything! Oh god, why hadn't he brought his agent to aid him in this mess. Wait, his agent! She wasn't allowed to come. They actually removed her from the plane. But he wouldn't let that happen. They had to coax him into such a thing. But how. Hmmm, they would have needed something more enticing than a sexy woman in a mini skirt. Booze and boobs were probably the only two things. Since the latter was taken from him, it had to be the liquor. To butter him up, the hosts offered him drinks. Drinks. Shit. Had he blacked out again? What was it now? His twenty-seventh legit blackout induced by liquor? God, he was becoming an alcoholic. Good thing he was getting an intervention, right? Wait... they called him in for his narcissistic personality. Hopefully, they would "cure" both while he was here. One could dream, right? After all, you can't die from being an ass. You can die from blood poisoning.
"My poor liver," he stammered out while sitting up in bed. Darkness leaving his eyes, Arvin pulled his neck back to gawk at the plain room he was in. So much for being treated like a superstar. He was getting the normal Joe treatment and he did not approve. Slipping from the bed to the ground, he skidded across the floor until he found the mirror.
"Oh thank god. I'm still sexy," he said while whirling about in the drab garments. Grey wasn't his best color. Black would have been more fitting, but at least it wasn't white. White would just make him look, due to the green hue his hair gave off. Eh, he would have to fetch new cloths. And if there were none, he would sew something up! He had learned basic sewing back on a tour bus.
A grumble came from his stomach. "Oh shit. I should eat. I wouldn't want the rage-monster to emerge because I missed breakfast." Looking at the sky, he snorted. "Make that lunch or diner. God, how long have I been out. It was... Fr... Thursday night when I left." He would ask about the day later. Right now, he needed to quell his roaring stomach before it turned him into a nasty man. If he didn't eat, he would get angry. The joys of having a crazy metabolism!
Not giving a hoot one way or the other about the surplus of guards or even what really happened (and can we talk about how he completely overlooked his new tattoo?), he followed his nose to the delectable scent of food. Entering the room, his yellow-green eyes didn't waiver off the marvelous shapes of the food sprawled out for them. Completely ignoring everyone, he cut in line and loaded up a plate full of food. Arvin hadn't even made it to the table before he started to dig in. Now, he wasn't messy. In fact, he almost looked as if he were eating like he were royalty.
Just inches from a chair, he allowed his eyes to roll up and take in the audience that was before him. Cheeks puffed out due to being full, he swallowed hard until it all went down. Taking a swig from his glass, he rinsed his palette. Oh boy, he could feel their attention now. There was only one green-haired beau in the world. He was famous, too. These people would be morons if they didn't recognize him right off the bat. Christ, he was on SNL, Access Hollywood, E!, and so many other shows. If they didn't recognize him from TV, they surely saw him on a magazine or in a calendar.
Pushing his shades down from the top of his head so they veiled his eyes, Arvin offered the crew a grin. "Sup, bitches." Slipping into the chair he was beside, he went back to eating. From behind the dark black shades (he wasn't sure why those weren't taken away, but he prayed they would let him keep them), he judged the people around him. No one looked of importance to him. If anything, they all looked average. Sighing inwardly, Arvin thought, "Prepare for the wave of 'oh my gods' and 'so sexy' comments. Grin surfacing, he embraced the adoration that he assumed would flood his ears.
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