Mindlessly

Chapter 5.

The familiar sound of my phone alarm chimes right through me bringing me to the surface. Such a monotonous routine. It's now 7:15, I have so much to do before the show at the gallery tonight. I work so hard with my photographs, hours of editing, hundreds of dollars spent on lenses, backdrops, and multiple pieces of equipment I need to make my work satisfactory.

A knock at the door brings me back to life and I realize I've been standing with my hand under the running water for minutes now waiting for it to be warm, which clearly it has been for a while. I wrap myself in a towel and peer through the peep hole. Gemma.

"Hi love, so early?" I whine opening the door for my blossoming blonde friend.

"I told you yesterday I'd be here at 7:30!" She exclaims and marches through my flat and to the liquor cabinet to pour herself a drink.

"Well I'm going to shower quickly, make yourself at home. Not that I need to allow you. You'll do it anyway." She laughs through sips of vodka as I walk back down the hall to the shower.

The shower definitely did wonders waking me up and getting the nerves settled. Four of my photographs will be auctioned off tonight. One of a young girl I took last month, a beautiful babe I must say. And the other three sceneries.

"Margaret pick up the pace please! We are going to be late!" Gemma marches through my walk in closet and starts taking clothes off the hangers to force onto me.

"I'll be 10 minutes!" I snatch the clothes from her and head to my vanity.

I choose my lavender lace bra to go beneath my loose, grey long sleeved blouse. I'm not one for the artsy clothes worn by many of the artists I'll come across this evening I prefer a more classical, sleek look. This goes essentially without saying when I jump into a pair of tight black leather pants that zip in the back. Tucking in my blouse and grabbing my black Louboutin's and makeup bag I'm out the door, my wrist in Gemma's fist.

Charles has Gemma's white Range Rover waiting for us and helps me in shutting the door behind me. "Have a safe evening Miss.Harrison. I will see you tomorrow." He waves us off. Charles is the sweetest man. He's 57 years old, no wife, no children but he loves every minute of life.

"Are you excited?" Gemma interrupts my thoughts for what seems to be the millionth time this evening.

"I'm excited but I'm nervous."

"You haven't the slightest thing to be nervous about Margaret. Everyone loves your photos."

"I know. But still. The feeling never seems to fade." I stick my tongue out at her and use the drop down mirror above the passenger seat to touch up my makeup and apply a deep red lipstick.

I decided to leave my hair down. Falling just below breasts, the natural curls look elegant and the rainy Chicago weather is not one to agree with an extravagant hairstyle.

"Thanks for always supporting me, Gem. You'll always be my rock." I smile to her.

"Oh please Margaret. You know I'd follow you to hell and back. You're my best friend. Plus, there's an upside to these shows." She winks

"I don't follow..." I begin.

"Hot artists! God." She laughs

I roll my eyes and gather my big black purse as we pull up to the gallery. The familiar brick building of the Morpho gallery never ceases to bring a smile to my face. It's a warm setting, despite the small amount of rain falling from the sky.

"Here we go." Gemma smiles deviously and parks the car just a little ways from the entrance.

"Here we go!" I mimic and walk with my best friend by my side. My heels and hers clack against the pavement as we quickly make our way inside.