Fashion's Princess

4| Celebrity Hotline

I crashed into Emma's spare bedroom, sprawling on her bed. 

"By the way, when you get to New York, Karlie and I want a baking fest." Taylor told me before leaving. I muttered and incoherent response before rolling over. 

Emma didn't question why I didn't take off my makeup. I might travel more than I drive but I still suffer from jet lag. 

It was currently 1 a.m. in London and I fell asleep 15 minutes later, thinking of blue eyes and blonde hair. 

No, I'm not so self centered that I was thinking of myself. I have hazel green eyes that photographers love. Okay, maybe I was getting a little self-centered.

At approximately 2 a.m., my cell phone started ringing. "Dammit," I groaned, rolling over and picking up the call. I didn't even bother to distinguish the unknown number; I had enough calls from designers and bookers that I gave up on saving any of them aside from famous people I talked to often. 

"Hello?" I greeted whoever it was and rubbed my eyes. 

"Hey, is this Skyler?" A familiar voice greeted from the other end. "Yes. It's 2 a.m., please leave me alone." I grumbled, sitting up in my bed while rubbing my crusty eyes. 

"2 a.m.? What're you talking about? This is Jay, by the way." The guy said, bewildered at my response. 

"Jay? How did you get my number?" I asked, sitting up straight in my bed. 

"I looked through the school files." Came his sheepish reply. "Anyway, do you want to hang out tomorrow?" He asked and my mouth dried. 

"Uh. . . I'm in London right now." I said dryly. 

"London? Why?" He asked and a few papers rustled in the background. Must be his homework. I didn't do a single ounce of math. 

"I. . . am doing work." I said hesitantly. "Work? What kind of work needs you to be in London? Are you able to hang out maybe the day after?"

"Yeah, sure." I agreed. "There's this cool movie, Deadpool. Do you want to see it? I'll take you out to eat right before. ABC Kitchen, been there before?" 

"Yeah." I answered lamely. I could work off those calories in the gym in case I needed to fly for another show. In fact, I did need to get back to Paris soon to do Haute Couture. 

"Uh, when're you picking me up. . . the day after?" I asked, trying to see if I could get rid of jet lag, go the gym, and maybe even attend school on that day. 

"I'll pick you up at 6. See ya." Then he hung up without waiting for my response. I shrugged. A date was good as any. 

"Skyler?" Emma shouted sleepily from her room. "What?" I hollered, dancing inside. 

"Shut up please." 

> > > < < < 

The thing about London was that it was always so busy. There was a rush of people everywhere. On the roads, on the sidewalks, in cafes, everywhere. The traffic wasn't as bad as California or New York, but it was still pretty crowded. Typical capitals. 

"Do you want me to grab something then we can go back to my house?" Emma asked, already pulling up to a cafe. 

I nodded absentmindedly. My computer was in my lap and I was busily trying to type up my essay so I could sleep more on the plane. 

She disappeared inside and was soon swamped by fans. I sighed. From experience, this would take awhile. And I had just enough time to figure out how to format this thing. . .