Cyn looked out the window of her PJ (private jet, of course) with a little sigh. Paris was sexy as hell, but she didn't exactly feel like staying there for a month and a half without her skanks. She sent a mass email to the five of them before takeoff.

( ♥ )

Cyn cracked open one eye, waiting for her vision to clear before she would even contemplate opening the other. She could hear someone moving around in the washroom, probably reapplying that very hot new smoky Bobbi Brown eyeliner. Where am I? she asked herself, rolling over. Vague recollections of an extravagant Four Seasons suite, a hell of a ( Read more... )

Cynthia Leigh Wilde waltzed into her ritzy apartment building, making her way towards the elevator. Her pale off-the-shoulder Alice+Olivia top perfectly complimented her Donna Karan wrap skirt and brand-new Manolos with the kitten heels. The way she walked and casually glanced at her surroundings suggested that she just knew she was the hottest ( Read more... )

Cyn smiled happily as she lay back on the girly pink canopy bed she had had since she was five, situated in the very center of her luxurious bedroom.  Since St. Barts, she had been strangely.. floaty.  Pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail, she slipped her feet into her furry monkey slippers and trudged over to her desk, opening the iMac and ( Read more... )

---

ohmigoddd, i am having so much fun these days, just modeling wherever.  like, i'll be in france one day, then italy, and then back in nyc. and i've been clubbing and stuff a few times, with renee, of all people.  she totally doesn't realize how hot she is.  it's so, so sad.  we're so fucking different but that's what makes it so much fun!  and ( Read more... )

cyn perched daintily on her new couch, shipped in from switzerland and completely ugly.  not that that registered on the wilde's minds.  the more expensive, the better.  which was fine for clothes.  and shoes.  and makeup.  but couches?  she took a sip of tea and made a face, then quickly put it back into neutral mode when her mother glared at her ( Read more... )

cynthia wilde was sprawled over her bed, a half-read italian vogue open on her left and the contents of her carry-on on the right.  where the fuck is that lipstick? she thought irritably.

"miss cynthia?" the maid asked tentatively, appearing at her door.

"yes?"  cyn looked over at maria and raised an eyebrow.  at the slight movement, maria flinched ( Read more... )