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HelpRe: Viatrix's NSU Celebrity Congrats * round zero
in reply to a message by Viatrix
Ahh, I'm already in quite a few congrats, but I just can't resist story congrats!
H: Florian Thomas Falco
W: Haven Ramona (Robb) Falco
"Hey! Stop pushing guys! Stop it! I need to get through. I'm *actually* more famous than you," Florian Thomas Falco, the super trendy fashion/celebrity journalist/blogger shouted as he pushed through the masses of C list celebrities and normal, mortal people. It was the Oscars and for the first time, he had got permission to work at such a big event. His cameraman was jogging behind him, trying to catch up with him, to see if Florian really managed to get to talk to a star. So far, most of the footage was of Florian dissing outfits of the red carpet or Florian trying to make his way through the crowd. The night was not going very well.
"Who have we got here? I can't see her face, but I've got an excellent look of her dress. Do you see that, everyone? THAT's how you wear a dress to the Oscars. Oh my. That's just magnificent. Empiric cut, and very stylish Gucci shoes to go with it. This might be this evening's outfit winner, in my opinion," Florian went on, and his camera man was shocked to hear Florian use so many positive adjectives. Florian tended to prefer to make fun of actors, singers and writers, not appreciate them.
"I can see her face now! It's ... It's Haven Ramona Robb! Heavens, her make-up is perfect!! I'm gonna see if I can get up close. You just don't see scarlet red lipstick worn with such grace every day!" Florian's eyes didn't leave Haven for a second, it scrutinised her from her equally scarlet red nail polish on her toes to the ruby speckled tiara on the top of her head, but the look of pure adoration never left his face - he could simply not find anything wrong with her. She was perfect in his eyes.
"Ms Robb!" he shouted and her eyes locked his. Of course she had seen him before. She even recalled looking at his blog once or twice. He had that nerdy charm around him that was so hot right now. But whatever picture she had seen of him did not match reality: his confident steps as he made his way through the crowd to her, the way he casually stroke the hair off his face, his soft touch as they shook hands - she was lost. Lost in the butterflies in her stomach, lost in his eyes, at a loss for words when he started asking her interview questions.
"Ms Robb? Are you alright?" He looked concerned, and escorted her away from the paparazzis. She nodded, and then found her words again.
"Can I have your number?"
Three weeks later, celebrity magazines all over the world announced that even though Haven Robb had not won any Oscars that night, at least she had won a fiancee. People were more surprised about the fact that Florian wasn't gay than they were shocked about Haven not winning any Oscars - after all, what can you expect from a movie called "Werewolves of the World War"? Seven months later, Haven and Florian was married.
H: Florian Thomas Falco
W: Haven Ramona (Robb) Falco
"Hey! Stop pushing guys! Stop it! I need to get through. I'm *actually* more famous than you," Florian Thomas Falco, the super trendy fashion/celebrity journalist/blogger shouted as he pushed through the masses of C list celebrities and normal, mortal people. It was the Oscars and for the first time, he had got permission to work at such a big event. His cameraman was jogging behind him, trying to catch up with him, to see if Florian really managed to get to talk to a star. So far, most of the footage was of Florian dissing outfits of the red carpet or Florian trying to make his way through the crowd. The night was not going very well.
"Who have we got here? I can't see her face, but I've got an excellent look of her dress. Do you see that, everyone? THAT's how you wear a dress to the Oscars. Oh my. That's just magnificent. Empiric cut, and very stylish Gucci shoes to go with it. This might be this evening's outfit winner, in my opinion," Florian went on, and his camera man was shocked to hear Florian use so many positive adjectives. Florian tended to prefer to make fun of actors, singers and writers, not appreciate them.
"I can see her face now! It's ... It's Haven Ramona Robb! Heavens, her make-up is perfect!! I'm gonna see if I can get up close. You just don't see scarlet red lipstick worn with such grace every day!" Florian's eyes didn't leave Haven for a second, it scrutinised her from her equally scarlet red nail polish on her toes to the ruby speckled tiara on the top of her head, but the look of pure adoration never left his face - he could simply not find anything wrong with her. She was perfect in his eyes.
"Ms Robb!" he shouted and her eyes locked his. Of course she had seen him before. She even recalled looking at his blog once or twice. He had that nerdy charm around him that was so hot right now. But whatever picture she had seen of him did not match reality: his confident steps as he made his way through the crowd to her, the way he casually stroke the hair off his face, his soft touch as they shook hands - she was lost. Lost in the butterflies in her stomach, lost in his eyes, at a loss for words when he started asking her interview questions.
"Ms Robb? Are you alright?" He looked concerned, and escorted her away from the paparazzis. She nodded, and then found her words again.
"Can I have your number?"
Three weeks later, celebrity magazines all over the world announced that even though Haven Robb had not won any Oscars that night, at least she had won a fiancee. People were more surprised about the fact that Florian wasn't gay than they were shocked about Haven not winning any Oscars - after all, what can you expect from a movie called "Werewolves of the World War"? Seven months later, Haven and Florian was married.
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