Chapter 3: It’s Time

Four years ago: Los Angeles, California…

A couple of months had past since she had met Christine, the model agent. Every now and then, usually while helping a difficult customer, she’d think about Christine and her offer. She would quickly dismiss the idea, believing that she couldn’t be a model. She felt that she just didn’t have the cojones; or at least that’s what she thought. She had been pulling as many hours as she could to save money up for a car and pay D and Lara back; even though they told her to not worry about it. It was starting to show on her physically.

It was a Tuesday afternoon and it was first time in weeks. She was sitting on the couch, in her t-shirt and fuzzy purple pajama bottom, watching TV with D and Lara. Some action movie was on; nobody was really paying attention to it. Lara was reading a book, D was reading a newspaper, and she was dozing off and on.

“Have you talked to him?” D nonchalantly asked, with his eyes still on the paper.

“Hmm?” She sat up a little straighter and tried to open her eyes wider.

He folded the paper over to look at her. “Have you talked to him lately?”

She shook her head. “Not since I started my job.”

D smirked and went back to reading. “Good to know he cares so much.”

“He’s busy touring, probably tired.” She yawned and stretched.

“Right.” That single word dripped with sarcasm. “Why do you defend him? He hasn’t done anything for you.”

She rolled her eyes; there was no way she was going to deal with this right now. “Well, he can’t defend himself.” She stood up and started for the guest room where she was staying.

“Oh yeah, that’s right, because all the chivalry he has should speak on behalf of him. How silly of me to forget.” He called after her.

Lara looked up from her book. “Leave it alone. You’ll damage your friendship instead of help.”

He sighed and went back to the paper.

She sat on her bed and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked at her phone and stared at it for a moment. She got up and grabbed her purse from the back of the door. She went through it for a bit before finding what she needed. If she had butterflies in her stomach, she had a whole hoard of them in there. She grabbed her phone and punched in the number. It took a few rings for someone to pick up.

“Hi, my name is Scarlette Méndez, is Christine Loren available? Oh, tell her it’s the worker from Saks Fifth Ave. Thank you.” She tapped her nails against her hip as she waited on hold. “Hi Christine. Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. Oh… Yes. Tomorrow?... At 10 am?... Okay, yeah, sure. Thank you. See you tomorrow then.” She hung up the phone and stood in shock for a bit, staring at the wall. That was easy, way too easy. She shook her head hard. “Crap…” She turned around to the closet and began to dig up something to wear. Wait, what did one wear to a photo shoot? It was just for head shots.

After forty minutes of putting together outfits on her bed and hating all of them. “Lara, can you come here please?” She whined and sighed heavily. There was no way she could go shopping now. She had a dark blue cashmere sweater in her hands, slightly waving it against her legs.

Lara popped her head in. “Yeah?” Then raised an eyebrow at the sight of clothes strewn everywhere. “What in the… Did a clothes bomb explode in here?” She carefully stepped in the room, trying not to step on clothes or a shoe. “I hope you didn’t call me in here to help you pick this up?” She shook her head and looked at Scarlette.

She wiggled her knees. “I have a photo shoot tomorrow morning…” She groaned.

“YOU HAVE A WHAT?!” Lara practically screamed at the top of her lungs. “Oh my god. Oh my GOD! This is major!”

D called from somewhere in the apartment. “WHO HAS MAJOR WHAT?!?” Sounding slightly alarmed.

“Shut up, nothing!” Lara yelled back and thought for a moment. “Let’s see, um what about jeans and a simple t-shirt?”

She gave her a “You’re kidding right?” look.

Lara picked up a pair of dark blue, almost black pair of skinny jeans. “These and…” She scanned the room. “This!” She picked up a red t-shirt that had seen better days.

“Those jeans with that?” She slightly curled her lip.

Lara looked at the shirt. “You’re right. Too much ‘I rolled in a street gutter’.” Then a light bulb went over her head. “I got it!” She had enough excitement in her voice for the entire apartment building. She out of the room and came back after a couple of minutes. “This…” She placed the jeans on the bed and the top. It was a sheer silk top with ruffles the graced the capped shoulders down to the deep v-neck and flowed diagonally to the left hip. The color was fun, but not too loud. From the top, it faded from a dark blue to royal purple to teal. “Of course, wear this under the top and…” She tossed a black camisole with the top ruched on the bed. She bent over and picked up a heel. “Your gold strappy Diane von Furstenberg pumps.” She smiled as she let the pump hang off her left index finger.

“Okay, for one I can’t wear that top. D got it for you on your birthday and its way too expensive. Two, don’t you think it’s too much cleavage? And three, those shoes have never been worn.”

Lara waved her off. “I don’t mind, obviously; plus, I doubt I’ll go anywhere nice where I can wear it.” She said the last part a little loud so D could hear her. “It’s probably not enough cleavage Miss thirty-four D and what a perfect time to break these heel in.” She grinned. “Besides, I think it says enough like ‘I have great taste, can look comfortable, and be unattainable to many.’ Oh and I can’t forget to mention that these jeans make your ass look good!”

“Oh god.” But she nodded. “You’re right.” She sighed. “I guess I should have called you in here from the beginning.” She shrugged and then smiled at Lara. “Thanks.” She started to re-hang everything.

Lara smiled. “Psh, it was nothing. I don’t read all those magazines for nothing.” She started to help pick up some of the clothes on the floor. “Just don’t forget about us when you make it big.” She playfully hit Scarlette on the shoulder.

She stopped mid-hang. “I won’t.” She smiled. “You guys have done so much for me, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you guys.” She voice slightly cracked.

“Oh geez.” Lara put down the dress she was hanging and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry about it. We’re always here for you now matter what. No payments expected.”

“Oh god. Don’t tell me you’re pregnant Scar.” D’s voice startled them both.

They turned and looked at him. Scarlette got her flip flop off her foot and threw it for his head, but hit the door instead. “Shut the hell up. No one is pregnant. God, why do guys act like that’s the worst thing?”

“Oh my god, did he give you something? Is it the clap?!”

They both looked lamely at him.

Lara rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You cannot be serious.”

“Well what is it? All I here is ‘you have what’ and ‘this is major’; what in the hell am I suppose to think?” D threw his hands up in the air.

Lara rolled her eyes again. “She has a photo shoot tomorrow. She called that woman.”

“Oh shit!” D walked over to Scarlette and gave her a bear hug, lifting her from the ground. “Congratulations!” He put her back down.

She playfully smacked his arm, laughing, she rubbed her ribs. “Thanks, but it’s nothing major. It’s just to do head shots and whatever. I guess she anticipated my call.” She shrugged.

“Still! This is big, who knows what this could bring you.” The excitement for her lit up D’s face.

Just then her phone started to ring, causing everyone to look at her phone which laid on the bed. Everyone lost their smile as the ringtone played. It’s was AC/DC’s “Hells Bells”,

“Shit.” Scarlette hung her head. “I guess I better take this. Thanks again Lara.” She picked up the phone and smiled at Lara and D.

“No problem.” Lara rubbed her shoulder. “Let’s go get dinner after.” She smiled and walked out of the room with D following closely behind.

She sighed, nodding, then answered the phone. “Hello? Hey. Yeah, I’m fine but I do have something to tell you… Yeah. We need to talk.”

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.

Characters

"Lovely Lady"/Scarlette (26) - We first meet her in a lawyer's office, filing for divorce from her rather famous rock star soon-to-be-ex-husband; who is on tour in Europe and finds out the termination of his marriage by celebrity news gossipers'. We find out early on that her nickname is Lovely Lady, and she is a well-known model who has a knack for modeling the alternative lifestyles. Now she's finally moving out and on, buying her own home and other personal properties without having to constantly stress over the soon-to-be-ex-husband and his party all the time lifestyle.

Liz (23) - Scarlette's personal assistant and one of her best friends. Even though she's young and hasn't been involved in the entertainment industry for long, she tries her best to give Scarlette advice and a shoulder to lean on.

Mich (35) - Scarlette's public relations representative who also could be her best friend or her mother. She handles all the dirty work that LL digs up for herself or what Scarlette's husbands recklessness causes.

Rob/Ex-husband (27) - Little is known about him except for the fact he's going to be Scarlette's ex-husband. He's upset over the fact that Scarlette has filed but promises to win her back. He also, gave Scarlette her nickname, Lovely Lady; to which she now despises. Wrote a song, by the same name, about her. Also, enjoys the rock star lifestyle a little too much.

D (28) - Good friend of Scarlette, probably one of her best guy friends. Tries to support her every decision, even if he thinks it's a bad one, and has giving Scarlette a shoulder to lean on whenever she needs it. Offers her has much advice as he can, when she ask for it.

Lara (24) - D's fiancée and friend of Scarlette. Offers moral and fashion support. Always has a guest bedroom to crash in when Scarlette needs a break from life.

Christine (42) - Is an agent for a prestigious model agency. She's the one who discovered Scarlette in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Sophia (26) - Good friend of Scarlette and fellow model. Tries to help Scarlette out by setting her up on a date. Means well, but can sometimes come off as ditzy.

Matt (38) - Is the lead singer in the rock band Dysmorphic Sound. Currently dating Scarlette's friend Sophia.

David (35) - Is the lead guitarist in the rock band Dysmorphic Sound. Sophia thought he would be good for Scarlette, perhaps as a rebound if not more. Seems friendly and genuinely interesting in Scarlette.

Daniel (37) - Works at the Mandalay Bay Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas, NV as a concierge. Becomes friends with Scarlette because of her calm and coolness, helps get her ready for her surprise wedding.

Alexander Volkov (33) - An up and coming designer and good friend to Scarlette. Has a "tell it like it is" attitude.