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august | 2 | monday |
spend a quiet, relaxing day out on joe and cynthia germanotta's newly purchaised yacht out in the middle of the atlantic ocean. yes, that means bonfires on the sand and roasting marshmallows with hersey's chocolate and grahm crackers, not to mention a collection of champagne bottles and matching {probably half empty} glasses.


scent - d&g, the one
mood - ...
hair - pictah
nails - mac, black enough?
lips - mac, lady danger
music - none
food - none
where - the yacht, then darren's car
with - gaga, then darren


{read first : http://www.polyvore.com/dfsm_gaga_germanotta_find_your/set?id=21522997}


I ran quickly along the dock, onto the street.
I continued on the street for what felt like hours, not stopping once.
I just kept running.
I was thinking about my likeliness to trip, in my eight inch heels, when my foot caught on the cement and I closed my eyes, bracing for the fall I knew was happening.
+++
I opened my eyes slowly and looked around, not moving my head, which was pounding.
I was in the back of a relatively nice car, with cream interior and soft leather seats.
"Hey, woman." I looked up to see Darren Harvard smiling at me in the rearview mirror.
I squinted at him, my gay pal that I met at a bar not too long ago.
I sat up quickly. "Uh... Darren? W-why...?" I looked around and grabbed my head.
I felt the rough texture of gause and a sticky liquid soaking my hair.
Darren looked back at me with concern as he stopped the car at a red light. "You okay? You are in my car cause I kinda saw you on the street and I thought you were dead and shit. But, then you moved so I put you in my car." He giggled and scratched his head. "There was this kid who was like, 'HEY. KIPNAPPER.' I gave him the finger." Darren smiled proudly and glanced at an old couple in the car beside us.
I bit my lip and examined the discusting gashes on my knees. "Are you going to force me into some gay porn of something?" I asked Darren.
He wrinkled his nose and hit the gas. "I'm too classy for that. I'm just gonna see if I can fix you up at my apartment and, if not, I'll take you to the hospital." Darren informed me of the plan and bobbed his head to a song that he was humming.
I looked at the blood on my hands and gagged. "I feel nauseous."
Darren clicked on the stereo and waved to the window. "Out the window. I just got the car cleaned, honey, and you are darling but I can't have stains."
The radio ended some heavy metal song and a man with a deep voice came on. "Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are talking about having more children! On a heavier note, singer songwriter, Lady Gaga has been hospitalized from a hard fall. And also, the Kardashian sister's are back in L.A.!" I listened.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. "Can I see your phone?" I asked Darren, not knowing where mine was.
He handed me his bejeweled Blackberry and clicked off the radio. "Well, that certainly was not alternative rock. Dumbass news."
I dialed directory assistance and got transfered to Lenox Hill Hospital.
"Hello? Yes, this is Madame Monster.... Yes.... Lady Gaga.... Okay. Thank you." I hit end on the cute phone and handed it back to darren, who set it down in the passenger seat.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Everything... okay?"
I ignored his question and bit my lip as I looked out the window.
I recognized the Babbo Ristorante.
"You live in The Village?" I asked Darren, smiling at the cute apartment with a pink exterior. "You are my idol."
Darren giggled and put the car in park. "I know."
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