‘This is where we stand,’ Mica said, brushing a wayward lock of birch-blonde hair away from her earnest face and then pointing to a large number situated at the bottom of a long list of smaller numbers. For emphasis, the five-digit numeral was circled twice in dark red ink, but it needn’t have been. The figure was shocking enough without the added double ring of colour.
‘That’s what’s left in the account?’ Sasha asked hopefully.
‘It’s what we owe.’
‘Poor fucking us,’ Sasha sighed. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Not after ten hours of filming, baking her brain out beneath the strident Santa Monica sun. Fresh from a long, hot shower, with her robe wrapped around her naked body, all she wanted to do was relax. Listen to Led Zeppelin II blasting loudly on her headset. Forget her problems until tomorrow. Unfortunately, from the way Mica was looking at her, she knew this wasn’t going to happen. She should never have agreed to meet with her producer after work, should have scheduled a breakfast sit-down when she was fresh and rested. Too late now.
Mica had a high-impact personality that made Sasha, normally the most energised person in a room, actually appear calm. While she watched, Mica paced back and forth from one side of the minuscule room to the other. Since there were only several steps to go, it looked as if Mica were a human racquetball, bounding and rebounding from one blue-painted wall to another. She made Sasha dizzy, and the redhead closed her eyes, seeking peace behind her shut lids.
The final cash infusion was due in several weeks, promised long before by one of her most trusted investors. But until the money showed up, the film was virtually on hold. This meant that all of her actors and techies would be at loose ends. She might lose some before the finances got straightened out. That was, unless Sasha wanted to do something about it.
‘Credit cards?’ Mica asked. Now, she was the one to sound hopeful. There were famous stories in LA of entire movies being funded by cash advances provided by Visa.
Sprawling on her bed in her vintage silk robe, Sasha shook her head. Even wet, her corkscrew curls bounced each time she moved. ‘Maxed,’ Sasha said, eyes still shut.
‘Relatives?’
‘Maxed as well,’ Sasha told her. She was no longer in contact with most of her family members. They didn’t understand her art, let alone support her. She was better off without them; she knew that. But wouldn’t it have been nice to have someone to call in case of emergencies? Someone aside from Jessica, her best friend since high school. While Jessica was always willing to help out in a tight spot, she did not have the financial means to bail Sasha out now.
‘Secretly holding a winning lottery ticket?’ Mica finally suggested, trying her best to lighten the situation. Sasha didn’t even smile. In her personal bank account was exactly enough money to get her through the next two weeks. And she needed it to last for at least a month. If she’d done the film digitally, it would have cost a fraction of what the current tab was. You could make a movie in four months for four grand. But this was her big push – her goal to finally get noticed, and she’d wanted to do it right, with real film not video.
‘So what are we going to do?’ Mica asked, serious again, perching on the edge of Sasha’s bed. Mica seemed uncomfortable to be sitting, even half-sitting, and her frantic mood forced Sasha to open her eyes and deal with the situation.
‘I’ll do what I have to do.’
‘You can’t go to that party,’ Mica told Sasha. ‘You fucking can’t.’
‘Of course, I can. I’ve done things like this a million times and it’s never hurt anyone. Including me,’ she said, sensing Mica’s next argument. Where would Sasha be when her soul was all gone? Now, when Sasha moved, her curls seemed to bounce up and down in agreement, adding emphasis to every word. ‘Charlie said that there will be someone there I have to meet,’ she explained, attempting to sound patient. ‘Someone who has money, Mica, who has the ability to help –’
‘If you have the ability to fuck him.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Sasha said, but the look in her shining green eyes let Mica know she was lying. It was always about what you could do for someone else. The trade-off. And there wasn’t a whole lot Sasha could offer aside from the seduction of her own body. She personally knew several successful film makers who had literally screwed their way to the top. Making connections, bonding with the right sort of people. Sasha had manipulated relationships to her advantage in the past, and she was smart enough to know that she wouldn’t always be mired at this level. If the film gained her notice in any way that she thought it might, this part of her life would be a dim memory as she climbed the ladder to the level of success currently found only in her dreams.
‘You don’t have an invitation. It’s a private party.’ That was Mica’s last excuse.
‘You don’t need an invitation,’ Sasha said matter-of-factly. ‘Not if you’re part of the entertainment.’ In a gesture that showed how completely she understood the give and take of the industry, she nodded her head up and down. Like a game-show hostess, she indicated her flawless figure still wrapped in the gold silk robe. Then, sighing, Sasha picked up her drink and retreated to the bathroom.
Once by herself, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, seeing not the face she’d presented to Mica, but one of fear. Yes, fear had brought her to this point. Fear and lack of funds. But once she got to the club, she knew that she’d relax, turn on, and make her plans come true. In the larger picture, it was only a little bit more money that she needed to finish the film and get it to the next big festival. Then she would be able to take a breather. The talent was there. She had that much faith in herself. Someone would notice her soon and her penny-pinching days of independent movie making would be over.
As she gave herself a mental pep talk, she could hear Mica begin to pace again. Back and forth; back and forth.
* * *
Dashiell was a city boy. In order to unwind at the end of the day, he craved a bit of excitement, the flash and glitz that Los Angeles was famous for. OK, ‘unwind’ might be exaggerating slightly, and he knew it. What did he need to relax from? He didn’t actually do anything strenuous with his life. He’d been purposefully avoiding the paper, because he couldn’t stand the daily routine of it. What he spent filling his days with instead would hardly cause most people stress. Worked out. Ran errands. Met up with friends for lunch. Got a drink at a favourite bar.
But what he really liked at the end of the day was sexual intrigue. Flirting with some striking woman, testing to see whether he still had ‘it’, that nameless quality that made women like him. Women who didn’t know who he was.
He’d received a small taste of what he was looking for at the Halloween party, and a larger swallow with the bartenders at Dream Maker, but now he wanted more. Sorting through the mail, he discovered an invitation to a private party at one of the hippest clubs in Hollywood. Finding the elegant invitation tucked in with junk mail and bills made him smile. The party was exactly what he was looking for.
He didn’t waste time dressing up for the event, choosing a pair of casual slacks, a dark blue shirt and a black tie. He slid his favourite leather jacket on to complete the ensemble, then caught his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked good, but not as if he were trying. Unlike the rest of the wannabes desperate to talk their way through the doors, he didn’t have to worry about getting in. Just another perk that went with being Dashiell Cooper.
Or, rather, Dashiell Jonathan Cooper the Second.
* * *
Omission in Jessica’s mind wasn’t the same thing as lying, not as devious, not as naughty. It just meant that she still hadn’t told Kelly about the Halloween party. What could she say? ‘I let some stranger touch me under the table while his date shot daggers through my heart with her cold-as-ice green eyes?’
So why did she feel so bad?
‘Forgot to tell you that I ended up bartending Friday night,’ Kelly said when they met at his apartment after work. ‘You should have been at the party. It was a zoo. People always get a bit crazy in costume.’
It was as if he were trying to help her spill the details that nagged at her. But she found that she couldn’t. Instead, she simply said, ‘There was this meeting at work anyway,’ inwardly wincing at the description of the wild party as a ‘meeting’. A meeting of people with alcohol, music and highly tuned sex drives. Now, she spread herself on his cotton sheets. ‘So, you know, I wasn’t free.’
‘You’re not going to be free now,’ Kelly told her, coming back to the bed with something silvery concealed in one hand. Jessica heard the metal chain clink, and she let the sensations flood through her, as if this was the first time Kelly was using his handcuffs on her, binding her to the bed by threading the chain through the top of his headboard.
‘Been a bad girl, baby doll?’ Kelly murmured.
She nodded automatically. ‘Yes’ was the expected answer for this particular sexual drama, because ‘yes’ would always get her what she wanted where Kelly was concerned.
‘Now’s the time to come clean with me,’ he said, again offering her the perfect moment to confess. ‘Come on, Jessie. You can tell me. You can tell me anything.’
She thought about the words before responding. Could she tell him anything? No. Could she tell anyone anything? She didn’t think so. There were secrets that she knew would never make their way to the surface. Desires that unless some smart lover figured out on his own, she would have to be content with fantasising about in her head. Still, Kelly allowed her more freedom than most of her previous lovers. And, lowering her elegant lashes, she started to tell him what he wanted to hear.
‘I have been bad, Kelly,’ she whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. Besides the events at the party, she also hadn’t told him about the flowers that had arrived at the office, twice now, with notes from her admirer. That was bad, wasn’t it?
As she spoke, he continued to gently manoeuvre her on the bed, his hands straightening her lean legs. She was stretched out by this move, her body elongated further as he leaned down to pick up her discarded nylons and used those to bind her ankles together. He didn’t speak as he worked, waiting for her to continue.
She thought about what she’d like to have said: ‘I let a man finger my pussy, Kelly. He put his hand up my thigh, touched me slowly until he reached my cunt. He brought me so close to climaxing in public that I almost cried from the delayed gratification.’ But she couldn’t make herself tell him the truth. Instead, she started off with something much safer.
‘You wouldn’t believe the fantasies I’ve had lately.’
‘Try me,’ he said.
‘You and me and –’
‘Oh,’ he said, grinning. ‘You want to play like that? You are a bad girl, aren’t you, baby?’
This time, the word ‘yes’ was almost a hiss as Jessica realised he was going to take care of her. The trust between them was for real, even if she hadn’t revealed her secret to him. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe there were things better left hidden in any relationship. She knew that anything Kelly had in mind between the sheets would make her feel good. He got off seeing her come, and as she watched him reach into the drawer on his bedside table, she realised he was going to get off in a big way this evening. Because the toy he held in his hand was one of her all-time favourites.
* * *
‘Hey, baby,’ Ian whispered, walking into Avalon’s bedroom and striking a provocative pose in the doorway. ‘What do you have on the burner tonight?’
Wasn’t it obvious? Avalon was seated at her pink wooden desk, typing furiously on her laptop, pages of handwritten notes spread out all around her. The tiny tape recorder that she took everywhere was on ‘pause’ while she wrote up a descriptive passage from memory. Now, her eyes took in her roommate’s suggestive behaviour, then flicked to look over at the clock on her bedside table.
When the column was going well for her, the rest of the world disappeared. She no longer heard the rumbling sounds of the traffic outside the Brentwood apartment, didn’t notice the noises emanating from her roommate’s bedroom. But she tuned in now. P Funk. Ian was in the mood to get down. Or, more likely, to get her to go down.
‘Working,’ she said, nodding towards her screen where tiny multi-coloured fish from her screensaver swam in mass across a dark violet sea.
‘Fucking,’ Ian responded, following her one-word sentence structure. Avalon looked up again and noticed that her handsome roommate had placed one hand on the crotch of his ripped jeans and was ever so casually stroking his fingertips up and down the bulge poorly concealed there.
Best friends. Roommates. Sometime fuck-partners. That’s what the two were. Years before, they’d met at a job interview, both competing for the same personal assistant position, and both losing to someone with more experience, meaning any experience at all. They’d felt a connection at the interview, consoled themselves later over tequila body shots, and had been best friends ever since.
Ian made enough money now that he could easily afford his own place, some fancy penthouse up in the hills. But he liked the comfort of living with Avalon. Always having someone to talk with, get drunk with, to fuck. Never having to be alone, which was the scariest thought of all for an actor. Living in a place without an audience. The horror, the horror.
Besides, what they had together was nearly impossible to replicate. There wasn’t one thing in Avalon’s closet – either her real walk-in wardrobe or her cluttered mental cupboards – that Ian wasn’t privy to. He knew what turned her on, how to make her wet, how to make her beg. And she could do the same for him. How comforting was that, for both of them?
* * *
‘Need this, do you?’ Kelly asked, correctly reading the excitement in Jessica’s vibrant blue eyes. ‘A double-cock evening,’ he continued further, starting the fun off by running the large, powerful vibrator along the side of her ribs. The best feeling ever to Jessica was being tied down, relinquishing her will to him so that she was at his disposal for whatever he had in mind. She put herself in his capable hands and let him set the scenario from start to finish. Kelly generally surpassed any fantasies that she’d previously had. Best of all, he kept her in a state of wonderment. What would he do next? How would he touch her? And where?
She could feel the wetness spreading between her thighs, and she arched her hips uselessly on the firm mattress, knowing that it was going to be a good long time before Kelly brought the toy to the split between her legs. The place where she most wanted to feel those rumbling vibrations.
He was going to make her wait. Running the tip of the flesh-coloured cock up under her sharply defined chin, between her breasts, down her concave belly. Skipping her slippery-wet pussy and going right to the insides of her slender thighs, back and forth all the way to the very bottoms of her feet. She felt energised by the massage of the motorised sex toy, as if all of her nerve endings were on the verge of climaxing. Not simply the hot zone between her legs, but every part of her entire body.
‘I like the way you move,’ Kelly said softly, and she realised that she’d been shimmying her hips on the sheet, sliding back and forth in time to the rhythm of his creation. ‘I’d like you to move like that on my cock,’ he continued, and now he was suddenly between her spread thighs, slipping the head of his steel-like pole into her lush, wet pussy.
‘God, yes,’ Jessica sighed, unable to keep quiet. ‘That is so good.’
She said the words before Kelly made things even better. With the vibrator still in hand, he brought the toy to the ridge of her pubic bone and rested it there. Just let it sit in place for a moment without moving the shaft. She felt the magic motor humming on her, as the vibrator sent sparkling shivers shooting through her. Shudders that not only felt amazing to her, but obviously felt transcendent to Kelly. She watched as he sighed and bucked harder inside her. His rock-hard cock brought her right up to the threshold of her pleasure – where the climax was on the other side, waiting. She could feel his tool swelling within her, driving in deep, so forcefully that she sucked in her breath at the powerful tremors that shook her.
The ride was going to take a long time. She sensed it from the way Kelly worked to control himself. He was breathing slowly, moving his hips in time with hers, pushing hard and deep. Melding himself to her and letting her feel the entire length of his cock pulsing within her, the vibrating sex toy now up in his hand again.
Where would the magic wand land next?
* * *
It was also what Sasha was wondering. Not a magic wand, precisely, but the magical welcoming motion of a bouncer’s curved finger as he thoughtfully regarded the sultry vixens waiting outside the door. It was up to him to choose which of the night owls he would next allow into the club. What power he held in the wave of his finger. His dark eyes flickered once in her direction, and Sasha tilted her head and lowered her long, mascara-enhanced lashes. She needed to be one of the chosen.
Did she ever.
Slowly, she hiked her short ice-blue skirt up a little further, revealing her long legs, toned and perfectly displayed in a pair of strappy sandals encrusted with crystals. Then she looked suggestively over at the bouncer again. He winked in approval and motioned with that magic finger, bringing her forward into the private party and one seductive step closer to a happy ending.
* * *
After letting Avalon listen for a moment to the background soundtrack he’d selected, Ian walked towards her desk. Standing behind her, he ran his strong fingers along the ridge of her collarbone, then moved his palms back to massage the angel-like wings of her shoulder blades.
‘You’re tight back here,’ he said, and at the sexy tone of his voice she started laughing. Although sometimes he put on the air of a world-renowned seducer, this evening Ian wasn’t being subtle in the slightest. He might as well have come right out and said, ‘Fuck me, baby. I have a hard-on. You should use it.’
‘Tight back where?’ she asked through her giggles.
‘You know, Ava,’ he whispered. ‘You know just where you’re tight.’
‘And I know just what you want to do about it.’
‘Do you, oh cocky one?’ Ian asked. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Mmm, hmmm,’ Avalon purred. Ian was hitting all the right spots, rubbing in deep circles with his thumbs. She could feel her tension start to slip away.
‘Then tell me,’ Ian insisted. ‘Tell me exactly what I want to do.’
‘You want to lift me up in your big, muscled arms and carry me to the bed,’ Avalon said, and as she spoke, Ian made the statement come true, hoisting her easily in his embrace and bringing her to the canopy bed that filled the majority of her room. Large mattress, burgundy velvet draped over the top and below, like something out of a fairy tale. The bed was the first thing Avalon had purchased when she’d sold a story to a glossy national magazine. ‘And then you want to take off all of my clothes –’
‘This little fluff of a nightie?’ Ian asked as he slid the material up Avalon’s slender body. ‘I want to take this off?’
‘Yes, you do,’ Avalon answered, ‘because you want to take off your own clothes and feel me all over with your naked body.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ian asked, even though he was stripping out of his jeans and black T-shirt as he spoke. ‘Are you sure that’s what I want to do?’
Avalon nodded because Ian hadn’t been wearing boxers, and now that she could view his unhindered erection, she could tell that what she was saying was true. ‘You want to climb up here and lie down,’ she told him, moving aside to give him room. ‘And then you want me to lie on top of you, to make sure that our bodies are completely joined together.’
‘That’s what I want, huh?’ Ian asked. ‘You’re pretty psychic this evening, aren’t you, kid?’ he continued as his roommate lay her body perfectly aligned with his, and she rubbed back and forth, so that his cock pressed between the lips of her pussy, getting the length of it nice and wet before she helped him slide it inside of her.
‘But what is it that you want, Ava?’ Ian asked, and as he said the words, Avalon found that if she were honest with herself, she really didn’t know.
* * *
Inside the party, Sasha took a moment to let her eyes focus. The mood lighting was dim to create a more personal ambience, but after a few seconds, her oval-shaped green eyes had grown accustomed to the atmosphere. She recognised several big shots right away, and she was headed in the direction of one she’d met previously. The trick was to talk to these people before they got too drunk. She could share information about herself, her movie, drop the names of her most well-known backers. Just as she was gearing herself up to glow and charm, someone rudely jostled her arm. Turning, she saw a handsome although casually dressed man at her side, and she instantly wondered how he’d gained access into the club. Look at what he was wearing. How could he have gotten by the bouncer? But she pushed that snobby thought out of her mind just as another thought replaced it. Maybe he was somebody who didn’t need to dress up –
The man interrupted her mental conversation by politely apologising for nudging her and offering to make it up to her with a drink. ‘Please,’ he said, herding her gallantly towards the bar. ‘It’s the very least I can do.’
In actuality, Sasha thought, the very least he could do was let her the fuck alone, so that she could try to hustle up some interest in her project. But after watching her hesitate for a moment, the man spoke again. ‘One drink,’ he said, ‘and then I’ll let you free. If that’s really what you want.’
She had to admit that she liked the way he looked, and the way he was looking at her. It had been a long time since Sasha had relaxed and enjoyed a man’s company. More than that, she was tired of faking it, of always considering her agenda, which was the budget of her movie. With this new prospect looking at her expectantly, she smiled and decided to let the attractive man buy her a drink. When he pulled a bill from a battered wallet to pay, Sasha felt guilty for noticing how old and worn the brown leather of his wallet was, and for subsequently thinking again that he didn’t belong in the club. It was apparent to her that the man didn’t have the kind of money that the rest of the crew did. As if reading her mind, he said, ‘I’m here with a friend.’
He motioned towards the main room, but although Sasha looked, she couldn’t tell who he was indicating with his head nod.
‘The people here are a bit –’ He raised his dark eyebrows, to indicate that they were out of his league, and Sasha sighed and felt herself growing more comfortable. If she didn’t have to be ‘on’, then at least she could be herself.
‘I know what you mean,’ she said, taking the drink and bringing it to her lips for the first sip.
‘What do you do?’
Sasha considered the question for a moment. She had her spiel down pat, all the memorised words about being an independent film maker, following the course of her artistic endeavours, blah, blah, fucking blah. Within her mind were the little buzz words to make the people who could pay interested in investing. Instead, she shook her head and said, ‘I’ve been talking so much about myself lately that I’m bored to death with the subject. Why don’t you tell me what you do instead?’
The man grinned at her and took her hand in his. He seemed to like her answer, and the touch of his fingers against hers changed her feeling of sad desperation to something entirely different.
‘Let’s split,’ he said after she’d had the time to down half of her drink. ‘I’ve got another place we can go that’s much more our speed.’ Sasha hesitated for one more moment, then followed the man out of the bar and into the night.
In the parking lot, his pick-up truck waited for them. It was Sasha’s favourite truck of all time, a classic cherry-red Ford, in mint condition. She was thrilled with this sign of the man’s personality. No generic Japanese import. No German sports car. Climbing inside the cab, she felt herself further relax. Enough so that when he casually undid the tie from around his neck and asked if he might blindfold her, she actually heard herself agreeing.
* * *
‘You do like movies, right?’ the man asked.
‘Of course.’ That went without saying, didn’t it? They were in Hollywood, after all. It was like asking if she was into air, or food. Who didn’t like movies in this part of the world?
‘I mean, that’s what you told me on the ride,’ he prompted her.
‘I do,’ she assured him. ‘You have no idea.’
‘OK, so you can take off the blindfold now.’
Quickly Sasha slipped off the tie that he’d used to cover her eyes. She hadn’t known what to expect, but now that she saw the stairs, she couldn’t help but laugh. The man had taken her to one of the most famous movie locations in Hollywood, a staircase that ran up to nowhere, but had originally been used as a prop in a classic Laurel and Hardy film.
‘You know it, don’t you?’ he asked, and she nodded as she opened the door to his shiny red truck and climbed out. She’d been here once before, in the daytime, but at night, the stairs had a completely different feel. Not eerie, but interesting. She put one hand on the cool railing and held on. As soon as she touched the cold metal, the man put his arms around her waist.
They were going to do it on a piece of Hollywood history. She felt herself growing excited. When focused on a film, as she’d been for the past few months, it was impossible for her to have any type of fulfilling social life. Occasionally, she’d hook up with someone simply to savour the feeling of human contact, the pleasure of skin on skin. The last movie she worked on, she’d wound up fucking the lead actor, which turned out to be a tragic mistake. When they’d broken up mid-shooting, his performance on the film had changed. Whenever she made an honest directing comment, he’d flip her off, if not actually physically, then emotionally. Going for the opposite of what she’d requested. That had been a nightmare, and the film had suffered for it. All for the sake of several so-so orgasms.
Now, she’d been living like a hermit. Filming. Sleeping. Eating when she remembered to. Mainlining coffee. Not caring about anything other than her movie. And, oh fuck, she’d forgotten how good a man could feel. This man knew what he was doing, slipping her dress up to reveal the pearl-grey stockings she’d borrowed from Jessica’s room. His fingers lingered on the tops of her bare thighs, and she trembled at his touch. Would he slide his hand between her legs, sense out her wetness?
No, he was taking his time. The crisply refreshing night air met her skin and she trembled again, but this time the man held her firmly in his arms, letting her feel his strength, and his length. Sometimes, it was good to give in, wasn’t it? To bend over and have a stranger undress you, quickly stripping off your clothes. Fingers learning the curves and valleys of your body for the first time. Nothing, in her opinion, was more thrilling than being touched by a new lover. For Sasha, it was the same indescribable feeling as sitting in a darkened theatre right before the movie started, an uncontrolled wave of anticipation. This was why she’d gone into making movies. She prayed someday that other people would get that charge right before one of her films rolled on the screen. Anticipation before sex came close to capturing the hushed hopeful quality that she found herself addicted to in movie making.
Take me, she thought. Surprise me.
Her new partner seemed to understand exactly what she wanted. He lifted her hands so that she was holding on to the railing at a higher point, so that her arms ached slightly from being stretched to their limits. Then he pushed her glacier-blue skirt up to her waist, bending behind her and sliding her peach-coloured panties down over her stockings with his mouth. His tongue trailed along the split of her ass and Sasha sighed.
She loved the feeling of being touched back there. Tricking it in a circle around her hole before sliding his tongue up inside her. It was a pleasure she could never find it in herself to ask for, not even with a long-term beau. But every once in a while, a lover took a risk and made the move, and oh, did it ever pay off. Shuddering, Sasha felt a fresh flood of wetness between her legs. Her pussy felt alive as it hadn’t been in months. It was as if her cunt was reminding her of what it needed and what it had been lacking.
Standing again, her lover pressed his own body against hers. She could feel his still-clothed erection pressing into her from behind, and she squirmed against him to let him know she was ready. More than ready, she was desperate to feel his skin on hers. All she wanted was for him to unzip his slacks, bring out his cock, and enter her. Thrust inside her pussy hard and fast, letting her really feel him. She could imagine just what it would feel like. Naked skin on naked skin.
Excitement made it difficult for her to breathe, and she worked to force herself to calm down. But that was useless. There was no way to still the ragged quality of her breath, no way to rein in her raging heartbeat. This moment was too powerful, and all she could do was give in to every sensation. A wondrous feeling pulsed through her as the man finally did exactly as she hoped. Pulling open his fly, he released his hard-on and slipped it deep inside of her.
And that changed everything.
While focusing on her work, Sasha had been denying herself the gratification of male companionship for too long, hadn’t she? Way too long. Now was the time to let go of the stress of work and enjoy the rush of being young, good-looking, and in LA.
Where, literally, everything goes.