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From A-List to Zero: Arenas's Celeb-Rich Bash

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"I never had anybody call me and demand my presence," Diddy, billed as the evening's host, says onstage. "He's a bad [expletive about your mama] . . . Say something, Gilbert!"

But Arenas is a man of few words, and he's already said them earlier, exhorting the crowd to "get drunk and make bad decisions!" So right now, he's just standing silently onstage, decked out in a white suit, as the crowd starts chanting, "MVP! MVP!"

The party people are showing no signs of letting up, even as the clock nears 2 a.m. The chicks in the cantilevered dresses are still strolling around, the dudes with the sunglasses are still grabbing hunks of heinie whenever an unwitting lass in a cocktail dress wanders into their line of vision. The Game and Busta Rhymes have yet to take the stage. So the night's still young, right?

Not for Arenas. Surrounded by an entourage holding umbrellas aloft, Arenas makes his way out of Love, through the tent and into the street and the misty rain.

"I wonder if that's his baby's mama with him," one woman says, craning her neck for a better look.

"Hmmmph," her companion huffs. "I need somebody to hold my umbrella for me, too."

So do we. So do we.

Staff writer Amy Argetsinger contributed to this report.

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