Picture Perfect
"Beeep!," went my alarm. I whipped my head around and outwardly groaned. My clock read 5:30am. No teenage person should be made to get up before the sun does. But not me- Work, work, work. I guess you could say I'm not really a normal teenager. I'm 18 years old--almost 19, and I'm a volunteer at Jive Records with my best friend Nicole. We've known each other for years and it was only proper for her to suffer along with me.My dad is the president of the company, and I work for free. Weird eh? A teenager that works for free. Well it's not my choice, because my dad says you need to earn a job at his company. I mean damn, I'm his own flesh and blood. I guess you could say I'm a little bitter. "I guess I should get up," I mumbled to myself. I pulled myself out of my comfy warm bed and walked over to my closet. I grabbed my shower stuff and went into the washroom. Twenty minutes later I emerged more awake and in a better mood. "I guess you could say I'm Zest fully clean," I quoted from the familiar commercial. I mean its not that bad working at Jive, and I get to meet a lot of hoooot up can comers. I haven't really met anyone super famous yet, but someday. "Jen? Are you up yet,?" My mom yelled from downstairs. I rolled my eyes because when have I ever been late for work. "Yeah, I'll be down in a minute mom,! I answered, slightly annoyed. I looked into the mirror to find a tall, pretty gilr with light brown hair scowling back at me. I twirled my hair into a bun and put it up into a bun. I step out of my towel in to a very professional outfit. A pressed navy shirt and skirt. I may just have the job of getting peoples coffee but that doesn't mean I can't look good doing it. If your wondering why I'm so bitter it has to do with the fact that my boyfriend just broke up with me unexpectedly. Don't you hate that? He said he needed space, needs space my ass. I caught him out last night with some girl. I had to resist drooping my Coke down his pants. Feeling a bit down I turned and looked at the picture of Nick Carter that hung behind my door. It always makes me feel better. I have a lot of copies of awards and special memorabilia for the Backstreet Boys and other groups. Cool eh? Guess there is something good about being my fathers daughter.
About an hour later I arrived at the front of Jive Records. I didn't see Nicole in sight so I kept walking. As I walked in my new sandles clicked on the marble floors of the lobby. "Ms.Manalle,? came a booming voice .
"Yes sir,?" I answered hoping that today was the day I would get a more interesting job.
"Could you please join me? there's a group coming in today to take some promotional photos and I could use a personal assistant," he said with a french accent. I knew this meant he needed someone to fetch the rich snobs their bottled Perrier. "That's what usually happens to me," I thought bitterly. Daydreaming I hadn't realized that the photographer was still rambling on about the shoot. ..."they will be here in about twenty minutes and your to get the boys and I anything they happen to need," he said realizing in that moment that I wasn't really listening.
"Are you listening to me young lady?, there are many people yo would love this job but by you fathers request,,," he droned on angrily.
My father! Of course that's why I get this tedious job. My fathers always wanting me to pay my dues. "Yes sir," I said in a emotionless tone.
"Come then and follow me," He retorted.
"Damn rich kids," I heard him say not quiet enough. Tears welled up in my eyes but I new I could show him.
Ten minutes later I was setting up lights and putting the clothes in order. I had recovered for the embarrassment of the photographer earlier comments. I new I got a lot because of who my father was but there was nothing I could do. I wrinkled my nose in distaste as I looked at some of the clothes the stylist had picked out. In my opinion they were pretty ugly-- the yellow, oranges, greens, and blues could only be pulled off by some extremely good looking guys! "Oh my god, they're here,!" I heard some young girls yell loudly.
"Must be some really hot guys," I said as I turned expecting to see another Backstreet boys lookalike group come walking through the door.
"Hey, waz'up Andre my man?," a smooth voice said to the photographer. I froze. I held my breathe because I knew that voice. I here it everyday coming into work. This wasn't a BSB lookalike bad, this was the real deal!
Whats going to happen next???? Never know!! Look for Nicole to come into the story!!! Chapter two coming soon!
Email me at red_rose105@hotmail.com if you have any suggestions or comments...I'd love to here them,,,maybe your idea will end up in here?
