|
|
Post by zechariah daniel williamson on Jul 21, 2011 19:21:57 GMT -5
Zechariah pulled into the parking lot at Hollywood Bowl, ready for another event his manager had signed him up for. He didn't mind so much, though, because the proceeds were supposed to be going to some charity; an orphanage or children's center or something to do with kids, he couldn't really remember.
Zech was decked out in dark wash slack-skinny denim jeans, a black tee shirt with The Beatles' Abbey Road cover on the front, a pair of black high-top Converse, and a newsboy hat, as he headed toward the doors. He felt the rather large temperature drop as he entered the building, letting the cool air touch his skin as he walked to the counter for a shoe rental.
Zechariah quickly got his shoes and headed over to an empty station to change into the typical bowling shoes and out of his classic Converse. Once he double checked the laces, Zech walked over and found a blue bowling ball that would do just fine for the tournament and headed back over to the station, waiting for it to start...
|
|
|
|
Post by vivian rae shepard on Jul 22, 2011 18:23:25 GMT -5
 
Vivian had never been a big bowler. She didn't
care for wearing shoes other people had worn. That to
her just seemed gross. None the less, her agent said
she needed to be more charitable. According to her,
Vivian seemed cold-hearted. And designers didn't
want to hire cruel models. They liked to hire sweet,
relatable ones.
So here she was. At the bowling alley, dressed head
to toe in designer wear. Some photographers snapped
pictures of her. Calling her name, asking her to pose.
She made up some lie about how she cared for the
cause. Orphans or something like that. She sighed
inwardly as she walked up to the shoe rental station.
She asked the pimply teenager behind the counter for
her a pair of bowling shoes in her size. 6. They were
hideously brown and clashed with her outfit. But she'd
have to deal.
Vivian was ushered to a lane by a short, stout woman.
There was a guy there, he looked vaguely familiar. That
guy from that band. She smiled at the woman, who had
turned and left. Vivian flipped her long black curls behind
her. Her green eye scanned the boy opposite her. He
was cute. Very indie/hipster. She liked his vintage style.
"Hi." she said simply.
|
|
