Post by annie jackson on Dec 20, 2011 14:08:54 GMT -6
She laid out a big, blue beach towel covered in pink gerber daisies on the sand, and dumping her oversized beach bag beside it, made herself at home. She swept up her dark curls into a messy bun, and pulling the sun lotion out of her bag, began to lotion up. God, it had been forever since Annie had been able to lounge on a sunny beach - not since hitting Cannes last month with her trust fund babes. Well, she supposed the long weekend on daddy's yacht in Monaco kind of counted too: it had been prime tanning time, of which she had never gotten much of in good old London. Annie raised one delicate hand to her face, slipping off her vintage Ray-Bans and secreting them in her beach bag. With a sigh, she laid back on her towel, ready to catch some rays.
Annie had decided on the plane that she was hitting the beach as soon as physically possible after arriving in L.A. 11 and a half hours, even in first class, was no fun, and the idea of the beach had sustained her through the long journey. No sooner had she stepped out of the airport and into her limo, but the instructions were given to the driver - a brief stop at her penthouse apartment to drop off her luggage (she refused to stay in daddy's mansion, she was determined to be as independent as possible) and change into her tiny bikini, and straight to the beach. And here she was, at last, on the other side of the world from her meddlesome mother, in L.A.!
It was so restful, lying out under the sun with the sound of the waves filling her head. This was the life. It wouldn't be half bad being out here, in a foreign country, on her own, if she had access to the beach during the day, and the best and most exclusive clubs and bars by night. Of course, daddy, the somewhat infamous lead guitarist of rock band Velveteen, would be bankrolling the whole affair (she couldn't possibly lower her standard of living enough to compromise on money, unfortunately) she was determined to do this on her own. And perhaps get back into daddy's good books by proving she wasn't the total slacker that he believed Annie to be. Which, if she was honest with herself, she probably was.
But that should be easy, right? L.A. is where the rich and famous come to work and play... surely princesses of the rock royal family should be right at home?
Annie had decided on the plane that she was hitting the beach as soon as physically possible after arriving in L.A. 11 and a half hours, even in first class, was no fun, and the idea of the beach had sustained her through the long journey. No sooner had she stepped out of the airport and into her limo, but the instructions were given to the driver - a brief stop at her penthouse apartment to drop off her luggage (she refused to stay in daddy's mansion, she was determined to be as independent as possible) and change into her tiny bikini, and straight to the beach. And here she was, at last, on the other side of the world from her meddlesome mother, in L.A.!
It was so restful, lying out under the sun with the sound of the waves filling her head. This was the life. It wouldn't be half bad being out here, in a foreign country, on her own, if she had access to the beach during the day, and the best and most exclusive clubs and bars by night. Of course, daddy, the somewhat infamous lead guitarist of rock band Velveteen, would be bankrolling the whole affair (she couldn't possibly lower her standard of living enough to compromise on money, unfortunately) she was determined to do this on her own. And perhaps get back into daddy's good books by proving she wasn't the total slacker that he believed Annie to be. Which, if she was honest with herself, she probably was.
But that should be easy, right? L.A. is where the rich and famous come to work and play... surely princesses of the rock royal family should be right at home?
