Grace's dream was a career in the fashion industry. But while she's finally pursuing that dream, her personal life remains a nightmare. Will she be able to escape an abusive relationship? And will she be able to find happiness and maybe true love?
In the weeks following my graduation, I'm even busier than when I was doing my final exams. I email every fashion magazine, website and blog to give them my CV and I keep writing articles for the publications I've been working with this past year.
A few of those magazines offer me a permanent spot as a writer but it's not what I want. I know how stupid and ungrateful it sounds, but my dream is to work in fashion not interview up-and-coming bands no one has heard of or write about the opening of a new café. I'll get the money I can get from this while I find the right place for me.
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The fashion industry is full of rich kids who are bored and want to pretend they have a proper career. So they become photographers and photograph their parent's friends. Or they model or work as stylists. I can't complain about my situation but no one is going to gift me any jobs because of who my dad is. And I can't do internships that don't pay for too long before I start to think about a part-time job. God, it's so exhausting.
"Hey babe", says Abel when he comes back from work. He's working at a restaurant, where he started as an apprentice but he's earned the favour of a few of his bosses and has moved to a better position now. I'm really proud of him. "Have you been home all day?"
His saying that makes me look down at my clothes. Yeah, I don't look too fancy.
"Ummm, yeah. I've been working all day on some articles".
"Right".
He leaves to go to the kitchen and get himself a glass of water. "You know, Grace? If you're going to spend all day at home doing nothing, you could at least tidy up".
"I'm sorry, I was so busy I forgot to clean the kitchen after lunch. I can do it now. I just need to finish this piece", I say, typing as fast as I can before the words leave my brain.
"I'll do it", he says, sighing.
His tone makes me feel terrible. I know he's been away all day working while I was here. But I was working as well. I wasn't sitting on the sofa watching tv.
When I'm almost in the kitchen, my phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Grace Wells?", says a female voice.
"Yes, how can I help you?"
"I was calling from Stylist magazine about your email. We would like to meet you soon if that's possible".
Oh my God.
"Yes", I say, trying to sound cool while I'm actually freaking out. "We could arrange a meeting".
"Brilliant. How about next Tuesday at 10 am? Is that ok for you?"
I hum for a second, pretending to think. "That sounds alright".
"Fantastic. I'll send you an email with some more information. And I'll see you on Tuesday, miss Wells".
"Of course, see you there. Thank you so much for your call".
When I hang up, I can't help but squeal and jump around the room.
"What's going on?", asks Abel.
"I just got a call from Stylist magazine. They want to meet me next week", I say, running towards him and hugging him tightly.
"Oh, that's great. What about the magazines you already work for, though?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, aren't those more likely to hire you?"
"Yes", I say, separating myself from him. "They've offered me a job but that's not what I want, Abel. You know that. I want to work in fashion and this could be my chance".
He laughs drily. "Grace, do you think I wanted to work in some of the places I worked at? No, but that's what adults have to do. You're no longer in university, remember? We have bills to pay, food to buy...we can't just stop everything because of your dreams".
"I know", I say, my good mood is now gone. "But I'm still working for those other publications. It's just that I have to try this. Fashion is a young person's game. If I wait, they won't wait for me".
"Do whatever you want", he says and gets his jacket before walking towards the door.
"Abel, where are you going?"
"Out. I need some air".
"But you just got here. I thought we would spend time together. Maybe I could go for a walk with you?", my voice is so weak I can barely hear myself.
"Look at yourself in the mirror. How are you going to go out? You look like you haven't showered in days".
And with that final statement, he leaves. I make my way to the mirror and sure, my ponytail is slightly messy because I touch my hair a lot when I write. And I'm wearing some gym shorts and a basic t-shirt but I don't look disgusting. At all.
I do feel disgusting. The same way I feel whenever Abel and I argue. If this can be considered an argument. I try to talk and he just tells me everything I'm doing wrong while I make myself as small as possible.
But this time I don't care. I have an interview for a fashion magazine to look forward to and that's all I should think about.
