Chloé Leuthard Clients
Posts : 17 Join date : 2019-09-02 Location : Sacramento, California
| Subject: Chloé Leuthard - Promo III Tue Sep 24, 2019 10:00 pm | |
| The scene opens up inside Chloé Leuthard's California home bedroom. Empty glass bottles of tequila and other alcoholic beverages are scattered across the carpet. Chloé herself is situated beneath the covers, on her bed, her blonde tresses messy and unkept, her leg pushing out from the satin material and hanging over the edge of the mattress. Francesca, a Swiss Italian maid who works within the household as well as for the Lehmann-Meier Foundation walks into the room, heading towards the closed pleat curtains, bringing them to an opening which dressed the room in afternoon lightning. Chloé responded with a groan, bringing a hand to drape over her cerulean eyes in disgust.
"You'll have to get up at some point today, Ms. Lehmann."
From beneath the covers came an inaudible murmur, Chloé's tan form turning away from the exposed window.
"I know you're hungover, but, you're scheduled for a gym session at three."
"What's the use, Francesca? Cancel it, I have nowhere to be."
Francesca let out a light sigh, she kneeled down and began to tidy the empty discarded alcohol bottles as well as the fabrics of whatever Chloé was wearing into the late hours of last night. She shook her head in dismissive fashion, responding in a motherly tone.
"Well, you wouldn't have seen this as you were getting black out wasted last night, but you've got a match for Wrestleworld in a couple of weeks."
Chloé peeked her head up from beyond the comfort of her bed covers. Her eyes were narrowed and the platinum haired bombshell was visibly tired. She scoffed at Francesca's words.
"You think that I am going back to Wrestleworld after how I was treated, Francesca? You think that I'll be showing my face in those parts after the humiliation I have suffered? That show was an absolute nightmare. The production was shoddy, the audience were unappreciative and the so-called architects made the entire thing about themselves, as if the spotlight hasn't been on them enough throughout their careers. I thought I was going to win, Fran'. They had brought me in to be the face of their promotion and I did nothing but train for my match and promote their brand on social media. The gratitude they show me is sticking me against a man who must be some sort of trained killer and on top of that, he has as much charisma and presence as a dead body at the bottom of the ocean. I am not standing for it, they talk about something fresh and organic and stick themselves all over the show. If I wanted to watch Brian Daniels and Robbie V I'd build a time machine, run it back five years and purchase a ticket to Elite Answers Wrestling. It's an absolute joke."
Sitting up within her bed, she pulled her form across the mattress, kicking both legs out to the side and standing upright, playing and running manicured digits through her cascading locks of blonde hair. She was wearing a thong, purple, frilly and nothing else, her augmented tan breasts sitting perky on her feminine chest. Sauntering over to the mirror, she looked back at Francesca who had a worried expression, her eyes flickering from Chloé to the recording camera and then back once more. Chloé commented.
"They're just tits, Francesca. There's enough pedophiles in this industry already I'm not attempting to join the club, gosh."
She giggled at her maids behaviour, before bending at the waist and picking up a brassiere which had been flinged nonchalantly onto her dresser last night. She slid the straps up her arms and over her shoulders, tucking her bare breasts into the cups and hooking the back strap together with skill. She posed and pouted before the mirror, cupping her breasts and letting them bounce within the confines of the lingerie.
"They knew what they were getting when they offered me a contract, you know. Sexual appeal and unfiltered comments. I'm not here to suck up to people and impress. I am the best when it comes to this business and I am not afraid to rub that in peoples faces. But that match against Harry Sterling, you know. I can't say I enjoyed it, it was like I was being punished for something I did in a past life, like it was all pre-determined, I just had this feeling in my stomach all week. Not one of self-doubt or a lack of confidence in myself, but a lack of confidence in this company. Regardless, enough about Harry Sterling, who am I facing next?"
"Jessica Rose, Chloé."
In the process of putting on a pair of leggings, Chloé looked back at Francesca in a confused manner, her brows furrowed and lips pushing into a concentrated pout. She replies.
"I have absolutely no idea who that is."
The camera slowly focuses out as Chloé's conversation with her help becomes less precise and eventually inaudible. The precision on the shot also begins to blur, before fading to black. | |
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