Trying to Be Cool
Today was the big day. It was the first day of my new job, stylist for the stars, or whatever it was my mom said when she was bragging to everyone. After a few years at Fashion Institute of Technology, I was offered a job as a stylists assistant, something my mom managed to slip out whenever she was telling everyone. It would be years before I would become someone's personal stylist, degree or no degree, everyone starts from the bottom. I wasn't even entirely sure who I would be assisting, I just knew it was a high profile music act and I would be traveling with them.
"I can't believe my little girl is going on the road. It seemed like it was just yesterday I was pulling carrots out of your hair," my dad mused as he leaned against the doorway, watching me struggle with my suitcases. Thanks for the help, father, I thought, rolling my eyes at him. "Oh wait...it was. Your brother just does so because he's going to miss you." I still hadn't given him a response, more focused on getting my two bags to stand upright than what he was saying. Finally looking up, I shot my dad a glare and he chuckled to himself, setting his morning cup of coffee on my dresser and helped me drag my bags out into the hall. "I suppose I should help, the faster we get you out, the sooner we can start subletting your room."
"Dad!" I groaned. No matter how many times he made that awful joke, it always got the same reaction from me. The thought of someone else sleeping in my room made me feel sick to my stomach. Like hell I was going to let that happen. As I followed him out to the living room, I tried to take in what I could of the apartment I had lived in all of my life. My family wasn’t rich, by any stretch of the word, but we did alright for ourselves. Our apartment on the lower east side was all I knew, and now I was set to travel the world. My position had a commitment of a year, with a chance of a contract extension depending on how the year went.
Even if all I did was get coffee for someone, it would be worth it to just get my name out there. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere.
“Did you already make the subletting joke?” my mom asked, handing me my travel mug, to which I rolled my eyes in response. My parents were both dorks, perfect for each other, but dorks.
“Still not funny!” I warned. If they knew what was good for them, they would stop with all of these jokes about renting my room out, I may never come home for real. I couldn’t help but smile to myself at the thought; I would never do that. My parents and I got along famously and I wouldn’t know what to do without them.
With one final hug from the both of them, I gathered my bags and set out downstairs. I had a taxi coming to pick me up to take me to my new boss. This was my last chance to turn around, I realized, but with one deep breath, I know that I can do this. A year without my family would be easy, I hoped.
I took another sip from my coffee, looking down at my phone to make sure I was still on schedule when I felt someone bump into me, knocking my coffee into my shirt. I silently swore to myself, looking up to see who the perpetrator was. A row of paparazzo zoomed past me, fixated on whoever it was that was walking down the street, uncaring of whom they trampled over in the process.
Living in New York all of my life, seeing celebrities was the norm for me, they were normal people and I treated them as such. I couldn’t even get a good glimpse of who it was they were following, not that it mattered too much. I was more focused on whether or not I had enough time to change than the newest Hollywood it couple.
“Sorry about that, love,” I heard a voice say from beside me. I couldn’t quite place the accent, but I knew they weren’t from here. When I glanced in his direction, I was startled by his presence. Celebrities didn’t faze me, but when I got a look at him in person, I understood why girls went gaga over him.
“It’s alright. I’m going to be late if I change, so I’ve just got to deal with it,” I shrugged, glancing away from him. I didn’t have time to have a chat with this boy bander, especially as my taxi pulled up.
“Oh. Well…sorry anyway,” he mumbled and I almost felt bad for how standoffish I was being towards him. “Can I at least help you with your bags?”
I saw him reach towards my suitcase and the camera flashes were enough to make me blind. I could see the headlines now, Harry Styles and mystery girl jet off to a romantic weekend getaway. No thanks.
“Harry! We’re going to be late, she can help herself!” I heard a female voice say. I looked towards her voice, barely recognizing her as one of the Kardashians or something. Or was it Jenner? I didn’t keep up with the Kardashians, and if it wasn’t for my love of fashion, I’d have little clue as to who they were.
“See, I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile at the curly haired boy, shooing him off towards his girlfriend. One would think she was from New York, with how rude she was. Without another moment wasted, I set my bags in the trunk of the taxi and climbed into the back seat, heading off towards the address I was given.