[b] Isadora Clawver | Interactions: [@AngelofOctober][@knifeman][@Arty Fox][@Syn][@TheRedWatcher]  [/b]

	Isadora slowly walked into the Salty Dog lobby from her apartment. Her manager, Darren, was making her work earlier shifts. [i]Fuck you, Darren.[/i] Her usual happy demeanor was replaced with a slight sleepiness. Isadora pondered whether on not she could convince Darren that she had the flu. She squinted her eyes as her head throbbed. Her right hand reached up to her temple and her index finger rubbed the spot. Isadora's icy gaze glanced at the other apartment residents, they had been nice enough. All of the residents had big dreams like her. Even Felix Ebert, critic and C-list celebrity, lived here. [i]Poor bastard.[/I] Salty Dog apartments weren't really the crème de la crème of Hollywoo. But who was she to judge? She was a wannabe actress that wasn't getting jobs. All because she refused to fuck directors for jobs.

	 She paused at she walked closer to the group, [color=7B68EE]"Does anyone know of anything that will help this damn hangover?"[/color] Her paws self consciously smoothed her skirt down while waiting for any sort of answer. Last night had been a complete fail. She had another failed audition, Isadora still felt the sting of. She had drunkenly texted her ex boyfriend, Axl Grey, and they had hooked up. Like always they ended up in a fight and he left in his boxers... of course after calling her a 'dumb cunt'. Isadora personally held the billboards for his tour accountable. Of course out of all of the musicians, Axl had the one directly across from her apartment view! Her audits turned slightly as an automobile screeched its tires.[color=7B68EE] "Dumbass."[/color] She muttered under her breath before turning her attention back to the group.