Chapter 2: I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T

Four years ago: Los Angeles, California…

“I cannot believe you did this to me again! AGAIN!” She sobbed into the phone. “How in the hell am I suppose to pay the goddamn bills?! We’re, no, I’m going to lose the cars and apartment because of your arrogant selfishness!” She sneered into the phone and gritted her teeth; she couldn’t believe he had wasted his money on blow and booze once again. “What am I suppose to do?... Wait?! For what, a miracle?... Send me money? That’s a joke if I ever heard one. Look, don’t be surprised I’m not here when you get back.” She shut the phone closed and stood up from the bed.

The phone started to sing AC/DC’s “Hells Bells”. She looked at the phone and sneered, flipping it back open and pushed the end button twice. Once it was cleared she punched in a number and hit talk.

“D? Yeah, it’s me. Look I need a favor… No, no he’s left me high and dry once again… Yeah, are you sure it’s okay if I stay with you?... Okay, well, can you pick me up? I’m about to lose the car because of his idiocy… All right, thank you so much, see you in twenty.” She hung up the phone and turned it off. Within an hour he’d stop calling and she could turn her phone back on.

She walked over to her closet and grabbed a black duffle bag and started putting clothes in it. As she walked around the apartment stuffing needed things into the duffle bag, she thought about how she could rely on him anymore. She’d have to find a job and start supporting herself; she felt stupid for not having a job in the first place, but with the traveling she did with him, she couldn’t have a normal nine-to-five job. It was now or never, and if she actually did leave him for good this time, she would definitely have to find a job. Time to start being independent.

She let out a frustrated grunt and angrily shoved a few more things into the bag, zipping it closed. She placed it by the door and went to grab her laptop bag and laptop; she continued to think. It’s not like he ever bought her anything anyways. The apartment was small and the band was over all the time. Her car was the one her parents bought her back home and it needed work. The clothes she wore were from mall stores or even Wal-Mart; the most expensive article of clothing was a fifty dollar pair of jeans. As for jewelry, it was either costume or from places like Forever 21. Not that she was complaining, but he didn’t spoil her, which was a tad bit obvious now since everything from the rent to the phone bill to the car payments were delinquent. She wanted to yank her hair out in frustration.

Then there was a knock at the door. She quietly moved over to the door and looked through the peephole, hoping it wasn’t someone sent to see how or where she was. It was D.

“Oh thank god.” She opened the door. “I thought you were one of his minions.” She sighed in relief.

D gave a flash of pearl white teeth, smiling. Considering he was Japanese, he was around six feet tall, maybe a few inches taller, and of slightly muscular build; he beat most of the stereotypes. He had a nice natural tan and thick black hair that was cut into a slightly long faux hawk. He wore a loose black tee and dark wash jeans and his sneakers were blindingly white. “Have I ever told you I think you bit off more than you can chew?” he said, his bluish grey eyes meeting hers.

She smiled. “Everyday I call you bitching about him.” She grabbed her bags and began to walk out the door.

D grabbed the duffel bag from her. “You know, you deserve much better than this bullshit.” He began walking to his car.

She sighed, turning back to close the door and locking it. “Yeah, well, I kinda love him.” She shouted after him. She knew he was right though, deep down she knew it. Yet, she did not want to give up on him, on the relationship that they both invested in so much time and effort. She reached his car, a silver Honda Civic.

D stood at the back of his car opening the trunk. “But the real question is, does he love you?” He put the duffle bag in the trunk of the car and reached for her laptop bag.

Shrugging, she handed him the bag. “Yeah, I think so.”

He smirked. “He has a really funny way of showing it then. You really need to dump him. He keeps pulling this shit.”

“Yeah, well… I think it could be a sign from God or something. Like, maybe I just need to get up off my ass and start working. Be, oh what do they call it? Oh right, in-de-pen-dent,” she said, emphasizing each syllable. “I’m how old and I’m just living this plain vanilla life.”

D gave her a sideways glance. “Vanilla? Having a job isn’t vanilla.”

“You know what I mean…” She glared at him. “Now can we continue this conversation in the car or can you not talk and drive at the same time?”

“Don’t become a comedian.” He unlocked the car doors.

She opened the passenger door and got in. “Seriously, I need to find a job. Vanilla or not. I don’t care what it is, as long as it pays.”

He got in right after her and started the car. “Well, there is stripping. That’s not very vanilla and it pays well. You have a great body and we only live in LA.”

“I should punch you in the face for that. Oh no, I have a better one, tell Lara what you suggested.” She gave him an evil smile.

He grunted. “I’m joking!” He steered the car out of the complex and on to the road. “I mean, you should take full advantage of your face since we live here instead of working at McDonald’s.” He shrugged. “Besides ‘Rockstar marries McDonald’s fry cook’ just doesn’t sound at all cute.”

“Point taken.” She laughed. “But how cliché is model?”

He nodded slowly, thinking. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

She smiled and looked at him. “Thanks, D.”

“For what?” He wrinkled his forehead in confusion face.

“For everything, being a friend.”

He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

★★★★★★★


A few weeks had past from the initial fight. She was still living with D and his fiancée, Lara, and still trying to figure things out. She had talked to him twice and each time she wanted to throw her phone at the wall. He did manage to pay the bills, in hopes she would return back to their apartment but she had found a job as a sales clerk in Saks Fifth Ave. Not exactly her dream job but she had a knack to sell expensive clothes and shoes. She was also learning a lot about fashion and got a really good discount. It just wore her out with all the pressure and stress to sell and look as high maintenance as the clothes. Not to mention the snobbery involved, other sales clerks stealing commissions and other work duties, and the pay being pretty crappy; but she pushed through.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

She stopped organizing some clothes on a rack and turned around to see how she could help this woman. “Hello, can I help you?” She said in a probably too cheery voice and smile.

The woman was probably in her early to late 40’s. She had dark, almost black, hair that was pulled back in a French twist. Very thin and possibly turning orange, which was probably too common. She was wearing a red silk blouse, tight black pencil skirt, and black patent leather pumps that, just by looking at them, made your feet hurt. Her makeup was done delicately almost passing for natural, except for the orange hue. “Do you have this in a size smaller?” She had her head tilted slight upward and away as she held out a black strapless cocktail dress that was too young for her. Superciliousness at it’s finest.

“I’ll check the back.” She smiled and took the dress from the woman.

The woman watched her walk past.

As few minutes later, she reemerged from the back. “I’m sorry, Ma’am we don’t. Would you like me to check another store to see if they have anything smaller?” She placed the dress back on a rack that was meant for things to be put back out.

Sneering, the woman shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.” She began to step away but stopped mid step. “Perhaps you can help me find something decent.” She looked back over her shoulder.

Smiling and nodding. “Of course.” This woman was going to be a huge pain and probably not buy anything, she could smell it, but led the way anyways. “What is the occasion?”

“A black and white party.”

“Coordinating with anyone?”

“Myself.”

Alright, this was going to be super fun. She rolled her eyes and then stopped in front of a rack that had a few black cocktail dresses. She wasn’t going to dare to ask her if she had a price range considering the initial dress was almost three thousand dollars. She glanced over the rack, shifting through the dresses hanger by hanger and grabbed two similar strapless black dresses; one with lace on the bottom and the other with a corset-like bodice. She moved on to the next rack, doing the same thing but grabbed three more.

The woman just stood back, watching her move along and do her work. She nodded as she watched her grab different but similar dresses, all were black and mid length.

She came back to the woman with about ten different dresses. She smiled at the woman. “Would you like to try these on? They are all in size zero.”

The woman smiled and nodded. “First, let’s see if I like any of them.” She look at the first dress. “Hmm, Versace… Elegant, Italian viscose… Simple but the back cut out would do a lot for a girl.”

She stood there for a while as the woman went through each dress and critiqued each one, narrowing it down to three. Her wrist ached from holding all the dresses. If she didn’t have carpel tunnel before, she was well on her way now.

“Why did you choose all black and mid length?”

She was snapped out of the trance she had going when the woman asked her that question. “Well,” She started out slowly. “Black is flattering on anyone, I’ve never found a white dress, that wasn’t a wedding grow, I liked.” She motioned to the bottom of the dress. “As for the length, if you want to look sexy and show off your legs without looking like you’ve been shopping in the juniors department, then this is the length.” She gave a weak smile, anticipating a verbal lash.

The woman nodded, smiling even wider. “Very good. I like you.” She took the three dresses and walked over to the dressing room. “And I hardly ever like anyone.” She spoke over her shoulder and disappeared into the dressing room.

Once the woman was gone, she let out a long exhale, not realizing she had been holding her breath. And what in the hell did she mean by that? She shook her head and began to put back all the dresses and straighten up the area. She glanced at her watch and realized that she has spent well over an hour helping this woman and she only had two hours left on her shift.

“Thank you for all your help.”

She practically jumped five feet in the air. “Oh,” She caught her breath and shook her head. She turned to look at the woman. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.”

The woman gave her a once over and smiled. “You know you’re a very beautiful girl.”

She swallowed hard. “Um, thank you.”

The woman circled her. “You know…” She reached into her purse and pulled out a gold card holder. “You should consider a different career path.” She handed a card to her. “It’s such a shame to waste a pretty face in horrible florescent lighting. I’m Christine, by the way.”

She looked at the card, hesitated and then took the card.

“Now, where can I pay for this?” Christine smiled.

“Oh right, this way.” She led it to a register.

Once Christine left, she looked at the card. It was actually quiet pretty for a business card. Colorful and embossed in gold. The woman was an agent for a prestigious model agency. She slid it into her pocket and continued to work until her shift was over.

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