11 - Peak Fashion

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VALLIE

Sunlight warms my eyelids and gently lulls me awake. My eyes shoot open at the realization that I have once again fallen asleep somewhere that isn't my home – well my pseudo-home anyway. It seems that anywhere else feels homier than my showroom-esque Airbnb.

This time I don't wake up in a panic, the smell of Christian's woodsy cologne reassures me that I'm somewhere safe. The last time stamp I saw on my phone last night was 4:30 am. We had spent the whole night catching up, watching our favorite comfort shows, and binging all his favorite American snacks that he can't get in Australia.

I reach over to the nightstand to grab my phone. A groan escapes me when I see that the time reads 8:47 am. My brows curve up at the ridiculous amount of notifications that fill my screen. While my job doesn't really have "days off", I had no specific plans or meetings booked for the day. So, it's unexpected.

Most of them were from Bryan, the Omens' photographer that I met at the warehouse with Noah. The messages flood my screen with missed calls and texts.

Bryan: Warehouse. 8 am.

Bryan: Hello? Are you awake?

Bryan: Music video. Today.

Bryan: I think you should be there.

Bryan: Hey!!! Music video !! Today !! 8 am !!

Bryan: Dude

Bryan: We're starting. Show up whenever, if you want.

Fuck.

Kras continues to snooze next to me and I know that not even a plane crash could wake him up. So, I press a quick peck on his cheek before I roll out of bed and quickly begin gathering my belongings.

I'm rushing because well... Bryan seems like the only Omen who wants to cooperate or include me in any actual band activities. So, I have to be here. And I'm already an hour late.

I leave a small note on Christian's dining table, saying how nice it was to see him, thanking him for the pep talk, and that I'll see him and the rest of his band in a zoom meeting next Monday morning.

I'm still not sure if saying yes to his job offer was the right choice. I'm already stretched thin enough between my main client and now Omens, adding Chase might be more than I can handle. While my main client's fanbase is much more... intensive, Chase Atlantic is still larger than both of them. And that swirls a terrifying pit of anxiety in my stomach because I'm not quite sure I'm equipped with enough experience to handle it all.

---

Gravel cracks beneath my tires as I pull up to the warehouse. I gather my bed head hair into the closest thing to a bun I can get it and try to rub off the slept in mascara smudged under my eyes.

My engine isn't fully off for half a second before I'm out and locking my door.

I smooth out the exact same outfit I wore to Christian's yesterday since I didn't have time to stop home. Usually, I would never show up to a work event in sweatpants, a cropped cami, sneakers, and a flannel, but here we are. It's not like the band is particularly formal anyway.

I see Folio and Jolly first, who both give me strange looks, like they're surprised I'm here. Then, Noah and Nicholas once I get to the entrance. They seem equally as shocked too.

"What are you doing here?" Noah asks, lined with his usual snarky tone, seeming almost offended by my presence.

"I invited her." Bryan speaks up from the background, adjusting the camera around his neck. "And you're about an hour late by the way."

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