Audrey pushed the hotel door open and exited on to the cold London street, pausing for a moment as she contemplated hailing a cab. It really was too chilly to be walking all over the place, but one of the main things she’d missed about London was riding the subway, or the underground as it was referred to by the British. She clutched her jacket tighter around her in an attempt to shield herself against the cold and headed towards the nearest station, sighing as she thought about the day’s events.
Late for the very first meeting, she berated herself. Great way to make a first impression, Audrey. And the group hadn’t seemed very impressed with her. Audrey was used to the disbelieving reactions she got from people, but for some reason she had expected these guys to be a bit more open-minded. She thought they would know how hard it was to be taken seriously when you were at such a young age, but they had turned out to be just like everyone else. But Audrey didn’t really mind. In fact, she relished the challenge. She enjoyed the sense of smug self-satisfaction she got when people saw her pictures for the first time, she enjoyed seeing their jaws drop in awe. She wasn’t arrogant, but she was confident in her work, she knew she was a damn good photographer, and it was gratifying when other people realized it as well.
With a grin, she recalled getting the offer to do these N Sync shoots. She’d done a lot of promotional work for a local record label which was run by a close friend of hers, who, unknowing to her, was good friends with a number of people from N Sync’s record label. When he heard they were looking for a photographer to do some cover shots, her name was first on his lips. After seeing her portfolio, N Sync’s management had called her and made the proposition. Not one to pass up a chance to visit her favourite country, or to work with one of her favourite groups, Audrey immediately accepted. The rest, as they say, was history.
Audrey snapped out of her reverie as she entered the blessed warmth of the underground station. She consulted one of the many maps lining the wall, just to make sure her memory didn’t fail her, then headed down the corridor to the underground that would take her to Picadilly Circus. She hadn’t even been waiting five minutes before the train that she needed arrived. She quickly boarded and took a seat next to a lovely-looking English boy. She flashed him a grin, appraising his dark blue jeans and matching jacket. Mmm, this is what I’ve missed, she grinned to herself. All these lovely English boys. She entertained herself by watching him, unnoticed because he had his head buried in a book, and before she knew it the short ride was over. She cast one last longing look at him before making her way out of the station and out in to Picadilly, the heart of downtown London.
Without hesitation, she headed straight for the large Tower Records located close to the station. One of her favourite things about England was the CD stores, where she could purchase CDs by her favourite groups without having to pay the horrendous import prices that came with them in Canada. She lost track of the time as she thumbed through the endless rows of CDs, withdrawing disc after disc and adding them to the rapidly growing stack in her arms. She silently cursed the store for not offering baskets for you to carry your purchases in. After about an hour, she realized that she’d better get out of there if she wanted to see the rest of the city. After all, there were many more CD stores in London that she had yet to visit. With one last longing glance at the bins of cellophane-wrapped treasures, she turned to go and pay for her CDs. Her journey to the register was stalled, however, when she stumbled into someone standing directly behind her, causing her to spill her armload all over the floor.
She dropped quickly to her knees, attempting to gather up her precious CDs, all the while apologizing profusely to the person she had smacked in to.
“Here, let me help you,” the man offered, bending down to join her in picking up the CDs. “I can’t help but feel responsible.”
“Oh, no, it’s my fault,” she babbled. “I should have been watching where I was going.”
The man paused in his task, staring at her in recognition. “Audrey?”
“Do I know you?” she asked, blinking in confusion.
“It’s me, Justin.” He lowered his voice as he said this, discreetly lowering his sunglasses to reveal cerulean blue eyes.