Hours later, I was sitting in the dressing room of the Ellen Degeneres show. My stylist, Vee was strapping a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes on my feet, her long, silvery blond hair pulled into a bun on her head. Vee was astounding at picking out outfits, and I currently enjoyed the black pencil dress with a peplum waist. It was paired with my crème colored Michael Kors watch, a gift from Jess during Christmas, and gold earrings. It was classy, especially as Bry, my gay best friend and make up artist, painted my lips red, and my eyes smoky. The two artists were a match made in heaven, and I was thankful that I had them.
Jackie walked into the dressing room, cracking open a redbull can and sticking a curly straw in it, smiling at me in the mirror. She handed me the drink, careful not to disturb the work my team was doing as I sipped on the straw as to not ruin my freshly red lips. I was thrilled to be going on the Ellen show. She was one of the funniest and the most carefree people I had ever met, and the last time I had been here, we had literally danced so much I snapped a heel.
“I swear,” Vee huffed, standing up and straightening her glasses. “You have the smallest feet in the world.”
I giggled. “Well if I had big feet, I’d worry. You know what they say about people with big feet.”
Bry rolled his eye in the mirror. “That’s guys with big feet, hun.”
I leaned over my chair, glance at Bry’s shoes. “Decent, Bry.”
Everyone erupted into laugher as he smacked me.
“Alright, Bee, they need you on set in five. You almost ready?” Jackie asked, looking at her rolex.
“She is in fact done.” Vee picked up invisible lint off of my dress and clapped her hands. I stood up, thanking the lord that I was done.
I looked fantastic, with the dress hugging my slim, toned figure. The heels accented my muscular legs from years of playing soccer, and my brown hair was pulled into a French twist, revealing the black cross tattoo that I had on my neck. Out of the four tattoos I had, the black cross was my favorite because it reminded me that no matter what I did, God had a path for me.
Jackie shuffled me out of the dressing room and into the hall, coaching me on what to say and when to laugh and all other sorts of ridiculous things. She got crazy when she was in business mode, and she even looked crazy, with pieces of her blonde hair sticking out of her bun and her suit jacket hanging somewhat askew. If there were sexy nerds out there, it was Jackie.
We got to the wings of the stage and I could hear Ellen talking about my many accomplishments. My stomach got butterflies and I fist bumped Jackie as we always did. If my mom had been here, we would have exchanged our phrase of good luck, and the fact that she wasn’t here made a small pang in my heart. But I would be picking her up tonight. She was busy taking care of me and running my life somewhere else. The thought made me smile.
“Her album Mirror was released just weeks ago, but is still on top of the charts,” Ellen cheered, the crowd yelling. “I’m happy to welcome my friend and my tenacious dance partner, Bentley Slade!”
I walked out onto the stage, the lights hitting me, a smile lit up my face immediately, and I tried to wave to the crowd while making sure I didn’t fall on my face at the same time. Me in heels was a dangerous venture, especially when I paused to hug Ellen before busting a move, dancing and swinging my hips to one of my quicker, upbeat songs, Crash & Burn.
The crowd yelled and cheered, clapping loudly as I laughed, sitting down in the couch opposite of Ellen, beaming. I crossed my legs as to keep from having a crotch shot. The last thing I needed was a picture of my lacy black underwear on the Internet with some crazy title.
“So!” Ellen opened, waiting for the crowd to die down. “I’m glad you kept your hell on that time, since you know, you broke it last time we danced.”
The audience as well as myself laughed. “Yes, I actually wore sturdier ones this time see?” I showed her the thick heel on my shoe. “Just so I could dance with you!”
“Aww,” she clapped her hands together jokingly. “So, you’re new album Mirrors is awesome! It sounds very personal.”
“Oh it is,” I commented nodding. “I did want a fun album, and there are some fun get you dancing songs, but I also wanted it to have a message, because there was a lot of music in my heart that needed to be let out.”
Ellen nodded. “Yeah, I liked that one song, about the capable of killing the ex-boyfriend!”
I gasped, feigning shock. “Yeah I liked that one too!”
“Now is it true that you yelled at the delivery man who brought you flowers from Penn?” Ellen asked, leaning on her hands. Her light blue eyes were filled with curiosity, but not the kind that was nosey or judgmental. It was a friendly kind.
“I did,” I admitted, laughing once and closing my eyes, my mouth forming a line. “Can’t say it was the nicest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m a very honest person and maybe I was too honest in the moment.”
“Wow so you uh, you really killed the messenger?”
“I believe in killing the messenger. It sends a message.”
“Oh, you did.”
The rest of the interview went on without a hitch, in which I promoted my new album, talked about life and played a game of Taboo, which I sucked terribly at. All in all, it was a brilliant interview, and I was sad to go, but eager to get food in my stomach. If I didn’t eat in five minutes I was going to throw the ultimate temper tantrum.
Once of stage, Jackie and everyone else began goggling over how well I had done, but i was grumpy from hunger and demanded to be taken to get food. Thankfully, my crew was used to this and had McDonalds waiting in the car for me. After working together for so long, my team had become one cohesive group. They knew what irked me, I knew what irked them, they knew how to handle me at my worst, and to keep my at my best. They were the glue to my life and most importantly, my career.
I knew that I was extremely blessed with such good people. It wasn’t every day that stars and people in this business had a flawless group of workers. Sometimes someone became to greedy, or sold stories, or just outright took advantage, but I had never had that problem. My trust was in these people to take care of me, and I never worried about them letting me down. Heir sole interest was in taking care of me, and whenever I thought I was alone in the world, I reminded myself that I had a group of people that cared about me, even though I was kind of paying them to do it.
Checking my watch, I saw that it was now 5:45 and my mother’s flight would be landing soon. I slide into the car, happy that I didn’t have to dodge fans and crazies. Jackie slid in next to me, talking away on her cell as I moved myself to the dark windows, looking up at the blue sky through them. The car began to roll into motion and I found my mind wandering off into random places, going to the same place as it so often did.
I touched the tattoo on my wrist absently, in which thick, black roman numerals marked the birth and death date of my father. I closed my eyes, and I could see the way his hazel eyes glittered, the way he laughed at me and sat me on his lap to play the piano. He had taught me everything I knew about the instrument, and had just started on the guitar when his untimely death came as the result of a car accident.
Sometimes I didn’t know what was worse, dying from a sickness and seeing it coming, or just dying unplanned and healthy. I liked to tell myself that it must be miserable, to be sick and dying, and think that every day was your last. I couldn’t imagine what it was like, to wake up one day and realize that the fateful day had come.
But then I reminded myself that the families of people dying of sickness had time to prepare themselves, they had time to accept the fact that their loved one was going. They could say goodbye, practice, they could… they could say everything they had ever wanted to say. I had never gotten that chance.
My eyes flicked open and I watched as we drove over a bridge, six lanes of traffic moving surprisingly fast. The water out on the ocean was rolling with blue, salty waves. The scene was beautiful, and I could practically taste the salt, feel the wind running through my hair and messing it up. It had been so long since I had time to go to the beach and just relax.
The car ride to LAX wasn’t very long, but it gave me time to close my mind and shut it off. It seemed like so rarely did I get to perform this small moment of silence between my lapses of sleep. I was busy all the time- not that I minded, but peace and quiet was welcome silence.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to get out the vehicle at the airport. To many paparazzi and to many people there to just do a quick pick up. I waited impatiently, footing tapping at a hundred miles a minute when I spotted John and my mom, pushing a cart with her many suit cases. I smiled broadly and smacked Jackie, who had moved to the front seat.
Jackie got out of the car and hugged my mom, grabbing her luggage and helping load it while my mom slid into the car. I launched myself on her, taking in the smell of her Chanel No. 5 and everything about her. Her laughter rang out like silver as she hugged me back, squeezing tight.
“My cup runneth over, mom.”
She laughed. “Me too.”
*
The smell of breakfast being made wafted into my room and I smiled into the pillow, remembering that my mom was here now. My mom hadn’t stayed at my apartment the night before, but she had spent most of the night there, talking about her trip to London and all the upcoming dates and events we had going. she still refused to tell me who I was touring with, but I was excited anyways, especially now that I could smell food.
I rolled out of bed and heard the lovely sounds of Adele floating through the room as my mom was in the kitchen. Without turning to face me, she snapped her fingers, pointing back towards my room and saying, “Ah, go get dressed. We don’t have much time until the meeting, which means you’re dressing yourself.”
“Meh, I don’t like dressing myself.”
“Get in that bloody room, missy.”
I got dressed blindly and without carrying much, leaving my long locks to fall down my shoulders in chocolate colored waves. I pulled on a [URL=http://www.polyvore.com/bentley4/set?id=51362504] cute peach shirt[/URL], with white polka dots, pairing it with simple jean shorts and silver Sperry Topsiders. I slid on silver bracelets and threw on powder and gloss, not really carrying about liner or shadow. I would have glasses on to the world, who cared what my eyes looked like?
After eating my mothers deliciously cooked breakfast, we were rushing to an unknown place. My mother rambled on to Jackie about business and plans, but I tuned them out, simply enjoying the presence of my mother and loving the sound of her British accent. I wished so desperately that I had picked it up permanently, but unfortunately for my half American ass, I only had the lilting accent on a few words, which made it odd to here me use British curses in a very American accent.
We pulled up to the back of a record label company, and got out, heading towards the ugly back door. The backs of buildings, I noticed, were always so generic and boring. Same white walls, same overly heavy, locked door that only the cool people got to use.
We walked down the hallways and I looked around, trying to get an idea of where we were and whom I was going to be working with. We took several turns before coming to double doors that I assumed led to a conference room. I could hear loud voices inside and something crash. Furrowing my brows, I surged forward of the group and pushed the door open, sticking my head inside and not expecting what I saw.
Inside the room, five very surprised and very attractive boys were up to a series of shenanigans. One boy with very blonde hair and bright blue eyes looked up at me, smiling, his face so cute I simply wanted to hug him, sat in a chair, mid spin. The boy neck to him had dark black hair, styled perfectly into a quiff, with tanned skin and the prettiest, darkest eyes I had ever seen. The boy at the head of the table looked sensible enough, with his light brown hair and eyes, waving to me and trying to fight a laugh. The next boy looked older than the rest, and had the goofiest look on his face as he smiled at me, brown hair styled and perfectly side swept, his grey blue eyes glittering. The last boy was topped over in a chair, laying on the ground but looking up at me, his brown, chocolate curls somewhat misplaced, but I didn’t care. All I could think about were the beautiful pair of greens eyes boring into mine, with such color and life that I was momentarily speechless.
“Ello, love,” he greeted me with the sexiest British accent I had ever heard, and with a coy smirk playing at his beautiful lips.
“Oh this is going to be fun."