The Vlogger

3) The Vlogger's Very Short Tempered

Armani was seventeen minutes late and counting. I was so mad I could practically feel my blood boiling. It didn't help the fact that I was practically forced to blog at my mom's art gallery. Everything in that place looked so posh and glamorous and not Taylor.

Then she did the one thing I asked her not to. She made a toast to her loving daughter, or in other words me, in front of everyone. I had all sorts of people coming up to me and asking me about my choice of career. I basically made stuff up from the top of my head because that's the kind of thing Taylor Ivory does in those predicaments. My future was just as blurry as my vision was, and I couldn't have been more frightened by it.

I scrolled down my Twitter page and read the comments from yesterday. Something deep down told me not to but my fingers were already scrolling down the smooth surface of my iPad.

Wtf happened to the vlog? Are u sick or something?

Give her a break! She has a life you know.

What a bs youtuber like why the hell does she have 6 million subscribers?

Unsubscribing, who's with me?

Taylor is drop dead gorgeous, fucking marry me.

Ivory is queen so stfu if you hatin'

She barely even does the blogs anymore, what's going on with her?

I turned off my iPad and huffed in disappointment. There were always going to be bad things I just hoped for less. In all seriousness, what the hell is going on with me? I did stop blogging. Quite a lot. I ran my fingers through my messy hair and propped it in a messy and rather lazy bun.

I could hear the faint yet familiar knock on my front door. Instantly I knew who it was.

I answered it and just as I suspected Armani Jones was standing there with a guilty look on his face.

"Hey Ivory I'm extremely-"

I cut him off before he could do further explaining,"You're twenty seven minutes late Armani. Obviously you don't take this seriously and I have more than three reasons on why I should fire you."

"I know and I'm sorry, but I can make it up to you." He promised.

I crossed my arms and shook my head,"I don't give second chances."

Armani sighed,"Come on Ivory. You can't tell me that you haven't fucked up and someone gave you a second chance. Just one more that's all I'm asking for."

"Besides I just happened to have these in my apartment." He smirked while revealing a small plastic box of blue berries.

"Just one Armani. I swear this is coming out of your pay check." I muttered while excepting his offer. Blue berries were exactly what I needed at the moment. Armani stepped into my condo and looked everything over. His eyes seemed to stay on my kitchen table that was completely buried in sheets of notebook paper, cameras, photos, notebooks, etc. I couldn't tell what he was thinking but it made me nervous and I wasn't an anxious person.

"I'm not a hoarder, if that's what you're thinking. I just get these ideas and I have to write them down or they stay in my head for days. But don't worry this is for another day." I explained.