( BILLION DOLLAR BABY )

[ansley aaron richie]

NAME ansley aaron richie
NICKNAMES ans
AGE twenty.
BIRTHDAY December fourth.
GENDER male.
SEXUALITY bisexual.
ON TOUR WITH let’s get dirty.
AS THEIR hair and makeup.
LOOKS LIKE jeffree star

LIKES MAC makeup, video cameras, cameras in general, being photographed, reality television, shit talking, glorifying himself, Arizona green tea, bedhead hair products, writing his own music, trashing hotel rooms, r&b and hiphop, mint chocolate chip ice cream, late nights and early mornings, getting ready, fruity drinks, fake eyelashes, band boys, getting inked, calypso lemonade, red bull, orange crush, anything pink, piggy banks, teenagers, interviews, internet fame, being recognised at shows, sparkles, graphic t-shirts, leopard print, designer shit, being fawned over, hate mail, cat fights.
DISLIKES haters, ignorant bitches, anyone who thinks they’re better then him, being in a crowd, being sweaty, repeating himself, ugly bitches, dumb sluts that get famous, songs that are way too personal, love songs, songs they play every five seconds on the radio, dumb blondes, raspberries, most dogs, animals that died then were stuffed, the whole PETA following, bruises, tiny buss bunks, lack of closet space, anything that smells bad, fuckers who think they’re hot, past flames coming back, awkward situations, phone calls from family, people that think he wants a sex change, annoying ‘scenesters’ and their small backpacks.
FEARS growing old, ugly people, bad haircuts.
STRENGTHS confidence, his protectiveness, his fierceness, his ability to be chill in any situation.
WEAKNESSES shoes, good hair, shopping, pinkberry.
GOALS to rule the world, to see you in hell.
SECRETS he contradicts himself all the time, he’s a huge hypocrite at times.
PERSONALITY

PARENTS Portia Marie Richie, George Herbert Richie.
SIBLINGS none.
HOMETOWN Compton.
OTHER FIGURES no one.
HISTORY
George Richie was on top of the world. Not only had he finally established his future million dollar record company, but he’d done it straight out of collage and it was rising more quickly then he’d anticipated at first. Money kept rolling in at paces he couldn’t exactly keep up with, and he was signing sensational new artists that would one day become to pop and r&b gods and goddesses we know and love today. He proceeded to move from his small suburban home and to buy a much larger house in the heart of Compton, an estate as many would call it. The multi million dollar house sat on acres and acres of land, some of which consisted of a forest. You could see the beach and ocean from the balconies that lead out of each rear-facing room, and the view was simply tremendous. There wasn’t much more he could ask for at such a young age really. But as the years passed and his success grew, he realized that he’d never be happy without that one special woman. People always seemed to be talking about love so he didn’t exactly see why he himself couldn’t find it aswell, regardless of his fame and fortune. So, sometimes he’d find himself going out to exclusive clubs at night in search of that one woman who could enchant him, the girl who could catch his eye with only the bat of an eyelash. He found then, Portia. A beautiful platinum blonde female, the type that he could only usually find on the fronts of magazines and each month on his playboy calendars. He first caught sight of this gorgeous specimen on the beach near his home, playing beach volleyball with some friends in a tiny string bikini that barely covered what it needed to. Her million dollar smile shone in the bright light and caught his eye first, and he was forever captivated. He knew however that she was much younger then he was and felt nervous about even approaching her. When he finally built up enough courage to talk to her however he wasn’t disappointed. George discovered that she was indeed a playboy bunny, and even lived in the mansion with Hugh Hefner. It was impressive in his eyes to be blunt and this information caused him to become even more attracted to her. After only a couple months of secretly dating and talking online Portia finally decided to move out of the mansion to be with George, and life swung into motion for the cliché couple.

Only months after Portia decided to move in with George the two of them were sleeping in the same bed and talking about marriage with one another. For George it was because he continued to believe that Portia was the one for him. To her though, he was really only an additional way for her to get money she could spend on herself. As the weeks bore on she began to get additional plastic surgery to what she already had, expensive procedures that included intensive and invasive surgeries. George didn’t mind much that she was spending his money about as fast as he was making it, but he worried that her beauty would be lost in the fake lifestyle she was choosing to indulge herself in. He refused to say anything to her however for fear that she would become upset, as that was the last thing he wanted her to feel. One morning however the two of them woke up around the same time as they always did, George for work and Portia for a photoshoot. Unfortunately though, there was something very different about that particular day. There she was, crouched over the toilet. When the man moved to ask her what was the matter all she could say was that she didn’t know, and she just felt like she was going to throw up. When she did, they both looked at each other in shock and knew that there was only a few things that could be wrong with her, one of which scared the life out of them both. What if she was pregnant? The two of them really didn’t want a baby to deal with along with their shallow relationship, and obviously they went into panic mode when they discovered what may or may not have been true. This drove George to hitch a ride to the closest drugstore to pick up a fertility test for his young girlfriend. Boy was that tiny pink plus sign ever unholy. To make a long story short, the both of them went through nine brutal months if pregnancy together and somehow managed to stay together. In the end it all paid off really as Portia gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy either of then had ever seen, and there was only one name that seemed suitable for such a tiny wonder. A name that would soon be forever remembered by teenagers across america, Ansley Richie.

To say the very least, Ansley was spoiled. Even as just a small baby his mother draped him in lavish clothing from the likes of chanel and prada, parading him around like he was an accessory. To be honest, that was all he really was from the beginning. Seeing as it was entering the era where becoming pregnant was increasingly popular among the stars, Portia found it stylish that she’d given birth to the ‘tiny bundle of joy.’ George simply watched as his then fiancé gave Ans everything he could ever dream for, even before he could dream. She purged on car seats covered in mink and cheetah fur, tiny brand name shoes and custom baby sunglasses for the little guy and he never said a word. This was because he loved her with all his heart and wanted the best for both his girl and his son. And if that meant buying them both the world, well, he would do it. One thing he really didn’t want to happen however was to end up with a snobby boy that seemed heartless and made of stone to others. He wanted the small being to grow to be as generous and giving as his grandfather and all his family before him. He wanted him to learn how to spend money properly, and how to work hard to get the things he wanted. These would be difficult traits to teach the child of one of the richest men in California, but he was definitely going to try with or without Portia’s help. She’d be too busy fretting over a pimple or a beauty mark to notice anything going on behind the scenes anyways. As long as she stayed happy with whatever it was she was choosing to do, George figured it’d be easy for him to move in on Ansley and to mould him into the man he wanted so badly for him to become. Besides, George had always been a strong believer that there were too many vain wealthy people in California and wanted to prove to the world that he and Portia could in fact produce an intelligent son. Just because she was a playboy model didn’t mean that the two of them couldn’t work together to create something strong and amazing. He believed in himself, and his baby boy.

It seemed that Ansley grew so quickly that it was hard to keep up to be honest. One moment he was a bumbling baby boy, crawling to get to each destination he sought out and the next he was walking and talking like no tomorrow, going to get his nails done with his mother on a regular basis, and playing with Barbie dolls like there was no tomorrow. George continued to work with the boy, trying to get him to be true to himself but it seemed like it was all in vain as the only person that he allowed himself to listen to was Portia. She bought him his first little dog when he was only nine years old, and he would carry it around in his oversized coach bag just like his mother. Home schooled at the time, Ansley didn’t have to worry about fitting in with the crowd as the only people he ever had to surround himself with were his mother, father and Pomeranian. George soon decided though that he needed more of a social life, so he enrolled Ansley in a prestigious middle school in the middle of the eighth grade so he could make some friends and become more like a normal kid. The pubescent hated him for it at first, constantly glaring at his father for throwing him into a trashy conformist institution, but after a while he surprisingly began to become used to it. He constantly called himself the ‘queen of the eighth grade,’ and dressed less and less appropriately for the learning environment. He carried himself upon prada stilettos and refused to agree with basically anything anyone said. As far as he was concerned, they were all below him and would never amount to as much as he could when he wanted. This attitude continued to carry all through high school, and surprisingly enough he had friends for it. People agreed with his views and enjoyed being around him, so he sort of formed a bit of a following I guess you could say. This is what pushed him into the internet world. He started out on small sites, making profiles and taking pictures and videos of himself for the world to see. Also, he got into writing blogs and such things on his opinions so he could share how he felt about things with all his friends. Somehow all of this escalated, and before he knew what was happening he was on top of the internet world. It’s funny how things work out.

With his constant rise to fame came a million new opportunities for Ansley. Quickly he was swept into the world of myspace where he picked up many gigs modelling for photoshoots and getting paid to do what he’d been doing all along. George watched as his son deteriorated into something he’d never wanted to see from someone he loved so much, but refused to lose contact with him even when he didn’t try to stay in touch at all. Meanwhile, Portia and Ansley never failed to catch up over an ice cream at pinkberry or a too-expensive manicure downtown LA. They continued to be good friends. Ansley however was beginning to get into even the music business, creating controversial songs that not everyone agreed with, but most loved. This allowed him to get a small group or band together I guess you could call it, and he started to tour all over america with his sound. His following grew to a point where all his shows were sold out and he had hundreds of thousands of friends on myspace. Many complained that he was a joke and did nothing for what he had, but he believes even to this day that he worked hard and networked enough that he managed to get to the top. The past year he took some time off touring to sit down and write some music for his new album he’s been planning to bring out, so for a little side job he decided to join the thousand dollar kisses tour as a hair and makeup artist for let‘s get dirty, and in fact a socialite. He gets to be close to his fans while making money telling people what clothes to wear, and he absolutely loves it. He couldn’t be happier with himself right now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be happy with anyone else. Words fly like daggers in today’s world, and Ansley’s not afraid to puncture skin. After all, what’s the fun in touring if you don’t come out of it with a few war wounds, right?

NAME Dakota.
AGE old.
EXPERIENCE seven years.
OTHER CHARACTERS nun.
THE MAGIC WORD -admin edit-
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE MORALS

[/color] had always been huge for Dallas. The reason for this had never exactly been clear to her, but she was sure that it was simply thanks to her mother rubbing off on her just slightly. Of course this was a fact that she hated, but it was true. Her mother was basically everything she hated in a person, and yet there was so much of her in the pink haired female. The constant bragging, as August had put it, had hurt her relationship with the male and eventually ended it. That was why she’d been trying to change for the better, not flaunting her money half as much and trying to stay more conservative and watch the fun. Another reason she probably didn’t get out there as much was because she didn’t want to be known as a cheap trick or a slutty girl by her fans or her friends. She’d seen what drugs and alcohol had done to some of the people closest to her, such as Chandler, and she wanted to set a good example for those she was trying to save. When thinking of her relationship with the boy, she could remember countless nights of holding him through bad trips and rubbing his back while he puked in toilets. She wanted him to think of her as someone who would protect him and keep him safe, which meant staying sober while he continued to hurt himself and ruin his life. She loved him far too much to ever give up on him. There had been many times that she’d wanted to leave him before he’d cheated on her, instances where he’d swung his fists at her and threw objects at her small frame, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it because she knew that beneath the high and the vodka, he was still the boy she loved and who loved her just as much. If only he loved her more then the drugs. If only he’d try harder to be there for her when she needed him. Of course he didn’t realize it, but there were many nights where she just needed a hand to hold because she felt like she couldn’t make it. Where she wanted to be in someone, anyone’s arms. He was never there though, always just partying and disregarding her fully. That hurt badly to come to terms with, but it was nothing but true. He was cheating on her, weather she liked it or not. A love affair with a concoction of heroine and booze. She’d never forget the nights where she’d been scared for his life, wondering if he’d be alive and well the next time she saw him. It was a constant fear she had to live with, and a big responsibility. But he was her baby, the fruit of her labour, and he was alive and she loved him with every fibre of her being. He knew she loved him too, he just had to. With all the shit she put up with, all the things they’d been through together, there was no way he couldn’t know. But for her it wasn’t the same. She felt like he didn’t care anymore, that he was giving up on both of them. No matter how he felt though, she was going to love and protect him until the end because without her, he’d have no one. Everything would just go downhill from there. Living through the pain of knowing he probably didn’t love her was much better then sitting back and watching him die. No matter what he did to her, she always thought that maybe things would change. Maybe she’d rub off on him the same way her mother had onto her. She could teach him how to respect himself, couldn’t she? Of course she didn’t want to change, because then he wouldn’t be the same person she’d fallen in love with, but she knew that without the drugs he’d be so much better. He insisted that the drugs made him feel good when he just couldn’t though, that they helped him through all the tough times. Sometimes she just wanted to scream and ask why she didn’t make him feel that way. Why she wasn’t good enough for him. And if she was, why did he continue to let her feel this way? He’d never been a man to express his feelings to the girl, but it was nice to hear a sincere I love you every so often. Of course he said it, but they hadn’t talked much since that day in the park and the only time she’d gotten to hear those words from his mouth were over the phone or quickly and blankly as he turned and walked away. Maybe she was just being a baby over everything, but it was taking a toll on her and that was why this had happened. She just wanted all the pain, all the worry and the sadness to be gone for just one night. If everything could be thrown aside for a short while, she’d be able to feel the happiness only he could give to her without him even being there. Somehow though, things had gone horribly wrong and she was alone in her head, lost in a world of make believe. It was comforting though, to know that she was all by herself. She didn’t want anyone to find her because she felt contempt, and it was so good.

FAME was killing everybody. Dallas saw it, as did many others that had the chance to walk along the broken bodies of the We Break Hearts tour. No one seemed to be happy, there was always something wrong in their worlds because they just couldn’t get away long enough to save themselves. Just as they got comfortable, they were ripped away to be on stage, smiling in a fake way and pretending to be perfect. Pretending. That was the key word. Everything was so made up, such a fairytale. Or maybe more of a fable, a story with a sad ending made only to teach lessons. It sickened her the way she was idolized. The way girls and boys alike would run to her, some crying in her mere presence, blown away that she was real at all. They thought she was the perfect human, someone who absolutely could not be topped but it was all so untrue, little opinions they’d formed in their heads based on nothing but her looks and interviews she had. They didn’t know her, didn’t know of her life regardless of what the magazines and rumours would say. It wasn’t as glamorous as it was made out to be, and neither was she. Often she would read stories about herself, people claiming that she made unrealistic requests from the venues she performed in and that she was an overbearing person. It upset her that people would lie about her just to get a kick, but that was simply how some people’s minds worked and she had to make herself accept that no matter how much she didn’t want to. It was much like high school had been really, her peers and teachers always expecting so much from her. The best clothes, the most prestigious awards in every field from academics to sports. She couldn’t keep up with the expectations, let alone the reality of it all. Everyone put so much pressure on her shoulders, and she wasn’t strong enough to hold it all up anymore. She needed to stop caring so much, to stop trying to be perfect for everyone she met. But she couldn’t help it, it was her nature to be that way. In her eyes as long as everyone else was happy, she was too even though she knew deep down that wasn’t true. Everything was changing and she liked it in a sense, but missed the familiarity of her old life. The ways she always knew she was safe and sheltered. She even missed her group of giggly, gossipy girlfriends because now all she had left was her band and a bunch of smelly boys. She loved them dearly of course, but the conditions under which she lived were more of what was wearing her down. When things weren’t going wrong though, the tour was so perfect. It was like a rollercoaster, and the rush she got from being on stage and inspiring so many people was inevitable. In some ways the fan’s worshipping was uplifting and just so damn cool. This was because she could remember being in their positions once, placing posters of bands on her walls and wishing she had that talent and confidence. For most people, their dreams to become famous never did come true but for some reason it was all different for Dallas. Everything had fit together perfectly and there she was, doing what she’d always wanted to. She had to show her audience that it was easy to get there as long as they tried their hardest. They could be exactly where she was. Most of the time they didn’t believe her and continued to gush over her hair or makeup, and it was frustrating because most of the girls she met were so beautiful, yet they believed they’d never measure up to her. It was sad how self conscious the teenage population had become because of the superficial image the media had created around stars such as Dallas. Regardless of what anyone said, it was hard to be the role model for everyone. Fame wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be, and when asked basically anyone on the tour would say the same thing. It was full of pressure, pressure young people like them didn’t need on their backs to be perfect. She was scared to lose people to this pressure, yet it was inevitable. They just needed to be strong for a little while longer, a few more months. The only thing was, it was rumoured that the tour would continue on into the winter months, travelling across the pond to strange exotic places such as italy and france. Of course sometimes rumours can simply be flaws or things people say for attention, but it seemed like that was the direction this was going. She just had to be strong. She would make it.

WORDS rang out in Dallas’s head, but because of the state she was in it was hard to tell weather they were real or make believe. If only she could open her eyes to see if there was a face to match the voice to, but her eyelids felt far too heavy to lift and she wasn’t about to struggle with them. The creature speaking to her sounded so desperate, so alone. And amongst her thoughts, she knew she was acquainted with this person. They knew her, they were familiar. But who could it be? Her mind was failing her, her head in the clouds and as light as a feather like a helium balloon. It was the voice of a boy, choked up and frightened. I’ll help you, don’t worry. she thought, but the words never escaped her. Her lips stayed positioned in a tiny smile, mysterious and eerie. The quiet was nice other then the short, raspy breaths of the strange boy whom she couldn’t quite identify in her state. But then he touched her, she felt herself being lifted into the air and then laid to rest on a very hard surface. Opening her mouth, she managed to cry out weakly after he spoke some more, after she figured out who in the world it was. Chandler. He was there for her, to save her. He was finally going to love her, wasn’t he? But everything hurt. The pain was sharp and tears fell from her closed eyes, black lines streaking down the sides of her cold, pale face. Why did she hurt so bad? Why wasn’t he doing anything to make it go away? That was all she wanted. For the hurt to go away so she didn’t want to cry. Her head suddenly felt thick with alcohol and the smell of marijuana. Her chest stung and her ankle was twisted in an awkward position. She throbbed all over and the tears became sobs, her eyes tearing open and her glassy, vacant eyes staring up at someone she didn’t even recognise. He didn’t look like chandler, he was dark and scary. A gaunt shell of a boy. She cried out again, afraid this time and forced herself into a sitting position, pulling herself to her feet. The pain screamed at her, and she took only a few steps in her platform heels before she crashed to the ground, smacking her skull off the pavement. She only tried again though, getting up and then falling over several times until she was bleeding from her knees and elbows and her hair was matted with blood. All she could do was lay there hopelessly and cry for help. “help… help me, please… somebody, anybody?” perhaps her knight in shining armour would ride up on a white horse and scoop her up onto the back of his loyal steed, healing her with his mighty good looks alone. But that was only a fantasy, and even in her drunken state she knew that was a fact. Tiny whimpering noises came from her lips, and she looked over to the wreck from which she’d been pulled. Her baby, the car she was so in love with was curled around the trunk of a strong looking tree, looking just as broken and sad as she did. Her voice nothing but a whisper, she managed to speak to no one but herself. “my… my car.” who had done this to her prized posession? She couldn’t seem to remember. As she wracked her brain however, the inevitable happened. There was a loud hissing noise, before the pink convertible literally burst into flame then exploded right before her eyes. Her heart ached for the car that she’d put so much work into. She felt sorry for it and for herself, though this was all her doing. Why did she have to be so stupid? Somehow she’d managed to ruin everything in such a short period of time, and she felt so alone. As always, there was no one there to pick her up. She’d forgotten completely about Chandler, who had pulled her from the wreck and who’s ghostly appearance had frightened her enough to run away. He’d probably left her by then anyhow. Left her for the drugs, for the alcohol, and for someone better. Less pitiful. Less Dallas.
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