Starry Night in Paradise

[Rhiannon Kaelyn Webb]

Rhiannon had spent four hours getting ready for the meeting with her Publisher, Editor and creator of the most notable characters of the company she worked for; Stan Lee. The young ginger had idolized him for as long as she could remember. While the boys were hiding Maxim, Playboy and Penthouse from their parents, and the girls were pinning up pictures of their celebrity crushes, Rhiannon was hiding Marvel Comics and pinning up posters of her favourite Super Heroes; in her closet, at least. Her parents didn’t have the slightest clue about her love of Comic Books. Hell, they didn’t even know she was an artist for the company! They thought she was in her Dorm Room, on NYU’s campus night after night, working her ass off towards some Business degree or whatever. It wasn’t what she had in mind for herself and lied to her parents about it. But now, she was on cloud nine. She was going to meet and have dinner and drinks with her boss. She’d only met him once, when she won the contest back when she was sixteen.

So, she took extra care in getting ready for the evening; even went shopping for a new dress to wear. She’d even gotten her hair and nails done. If one were to look carefully, Thor’s hammer was painstakingly painted onto her thumbs, while the rest of her nails were just painted a pretty Iron Man red. It didn’t match her dress in the least, but that was okay. She didn’t want to match, and blend; she wanted to stand out in the crowd. Her comics were doing well, some of the best work they’d gotten in some time. It pleased Rhi that Stan Lee and the rest of the people going to this dinner wanted to meet with her and talk to her about it all. It was all so exciting! When she was dressed and ready and both her brother and Uncle said she would turn heads, she knew she was ready. She grabbed her keys, tossing them into the small bag she was bringing along to house her cell phone, lip gloss, credit and cash, and then she called out a quick goodbye and raced down the stairs, having too much excitement and energy to wait for the elevator.

Outside, Rhiannon stepped up to the curb and raised her hand for a taxi. One stopped almost immediately and she slipped inside, giving the driver the address to Rockefeller Center. Once there, she paid the cabbie, informing him to keep the change for a hefty tip. Rhiannon stood outside, looking up at the big, beautiful building. Her heart was racing a mile a minute and she couldn’t stand still, but she had to compose herself. There was no way she was going to walk in jumping around like a kid meeting her idol; even if that was exactly what she was. No. She was going to walk in there like the poised, talented artist and business woman that she was. Her blood was as blue as the ocean. She’d been raised to never show her true emotions, or nerves. Rhiannon didn’t believe in masking her emotions, but her nerves, that she would do. The petite ginger took a deep breath, then walked up the stairs in a calm matter, and stepped through the open door, thanking the doorman. She took a moment to get her bearings before taking the elevator to the very top of the building, then walked over to the restaurant and gave the hostess her Editors name. The hostess brought Rhiannon to the back, a circular booth cut off from the rest of the restaurant by some tropical plants. She smiled, pleased that she wasn’t the first nor the last. Rhiannon took her Editors hand and kissed both of the older man’s cheeks as they always did when meeting.

Shortly afterward, her Publisher and her idol showed up. She greeted both, and the dinner began. Three hours later, Rhiannon was on cloud nine. She’d just had dinner with Stan Lee. She could jump on the spot and squeal like a little girl from excitement. But she held herself back. She and her Editor moved from their strategically hidden booth to the bar to have a couple drinks. She was drinking Pepsi on the rocks, and he was having some sort of Jack Daniels mix. There really were no words that she could say that could ever encompass what she was feeling right at that moment. She was reeling, and her editor knew it. They spoke for a bit, and after he’d finished his drink, paid for both and dinner and headed out. Rhiannon stayed behind to try and grasp the enormity of the situation she’d just been in. She sat at the bar, sipping her drink. The bartender of the restaurant they’d dined in was one of the select few that didn't realize Rhiannon was only eighteen. After all, she'd been dining with a small group of older men and women. It was sa good assumption, albeit very wrong, but a good one that she was at the very least legal and just didn't look it. The guy behind the bar silently mixed her up a drink. Normally, when presented with this, she'd shake her head and inform the bartender or waitress or waiter that she was infact underage, but she was just too excited and needed something to keep her from squealing like a little girl in the crowded restaurant. So, instead, she accepted the drink he called a "Golden Margarita" and took a hesitant sip. She normally didn't drink, alone or altogether but she would allow herself just this one; a celebratory treat for her accomplishment that evening. She’d dined with her Idol, and hadn’t acted like some crazed High school kid. Rhiannon smiled as the bartender turned away to help another patron before turning away from the bar herself to look out over all the people still there at the late hour. She knew she wouldn't be ready to go home when her drink was done, but she didn't actually have her falsified ID with her, just the real deal.

_{Tag; Open
Words; 1031
Location; Cloud Nine, Top of the Rock
Clothes; Floating around on
Lyrics; Reverse This Curse,, Escape the Fate
Notes;; <3 <3 <3}[/size]