"I have somewhere we can go." Tony spoke slowly. Everyone perked up, knowing that wherever Tony had planned was going to be nice. He was a billionaire after all.


"Oh. My. God. Those are THE best. I have to have those. Violet, what season are these?" Genevieve Stark snatched the eight hundred dollar Gucci sandals off the display.

"Um, those look like they are from last summer's 'Dream Haze' collection." A mousy voice spoke over a teetering heap of clothes, and her head popped out and gave Genevieve a shaky smile.

"Oh, ew. I cannot believe they still have last summer's collection still out." She threw them back onto the display table, knocking over three and a half other shoes in the process.

Genevieve turned and surveyed the modern, high-ceilinged store- dresses were hung up in builtins that illuminated from within, complete white walls lit by thin glass chandeliers- and inhaled deeply. The smell of retail. It made her giddy just to think of the clothes, the money spent, and the satisfaction of walking down busy LA streets carrying bags and bags of expensive designer clothing. Some might call it excessive consumption, (maybe her father, if he ever noticed the bills.) but Genevieve preferred to think it as philanthropy. The poor workers dressed in cheap pencil skirts and last season's blouses all worked on commission, and minimum wage wouldn't buy half an appetizer at Journée De Soleil. It was, after all, her patriotic duty.

She scanned the rest of the store, bypassing spandex, bodysuits, and vegan shoes. (She hoped that fad would die. Fashion isn't cruelty free if it's ugly.)

By the dressing room, she spied a familiar pair of glasses peeking out from a huge lump of dresses. "Violet, did you find anything good?" She spoke, brushing her perfectly curled hair out of her face.

"I totally thought her name was Karen." said the Cindy Crawford clone to her right.

"Was. It was Karen. I'm doing her a favor. Karen is a name for a white suburban mom who never works out and has awful hair, Evangeline." She said, grabbing a handful of clothes off the pile and looking through them. You see, she had morals, and her instinct (that probably came from her power yoga that morning) told her that Karen just wasn't working out for her.

Just as she was walking over to the register, her phone lit up with a text from her father.

"On our way home. We will be there in a few hours." She turned her phone off without replying. He said he would be home last week and he still hadn't made it back from New York.

Genevieve didn't even try her clothes on, she was too mad. "I'll go get the car." Evangeline whispered, before strutting out in her 5-inch stilettos. "Violet, tell the manager to put this all on my tab," she announced. "And tell him the clientele has gone way downhill. He should watch who he lets in. I am so skeeved." She said glaring a hole in the head of the tourist who thought they could jump the velvet ropes and waltz right into the store. Luckily, the paparazzi that were crowded around the door and windows snapped pictures and alerted the security. The psycho schmoe had almost reached Amanda Seyfried, who was rifling through racks across the store, looking for the dress she had just put up.

Turning and walking out of the store, she took a few calming yoga breaths before hopping into the waiting car.

"Where do you want to go next?" Evangeline asked, as she pulled out of the parking lot and nearly hitting a stray paparazzi.

"Home."


Hey guys! I'm back with a new story! :D Leave your feedback, I love to hear it!