(Reader POV)
"Ladies and gentlemen, you are now in California. We welcome you and hope you have a safe journey." The captain's voice buzzed though the speaker on the wall, and the lights turned on. The sound of adults berating their children and babies babbling filled my ears, and I unhooked my seatbelt waiting for people to leave. I was finally in Hollywood, the place where movie stars are born. And that was the reason I moved here, to make it to the big screen. To be known around the world and to win Oscars and awards. I was here to pursue my dream.
"Ma'am, you may leave the airplane now." A flight attendant taps my shoulder, and I apologize and take my luggage out of the compartment. The captain waves at me as I leave, and flight attendants welcome me when I step into the airport. I felt like this was the place meant for me, the place to start out for a career. I can't have any distractions.Everything was set out for me already, the apartment, the car and a part time job. I couldn't be here and not be prepared, could I? Step 1 of becoming a movie star- be prepared.
I have been dreaming of becoming a movie star since I was a mere toddler. I would act like the way actors and actresses do on the stage. I started watching Broadway performances on YouTube. I made a list of role models to look up to, and how to become loved by the public. Doris Day was a huge inspiration. Now here I am, a 20 year old woman in California. I think I have everything under control.
I leave the Hollywood International Airport and head for the parking lot, where all the taxis sit waiting. I breath in the smell of the crisp Californian air as the sun burns my jeans onto my legs. Wearing jeans was not a good idea to wear to Hollywood. I wasn't one to be fashionable. Jeans, shoes and a hoodie will do just fine, although there are days when I like to jazz it up a bit.
"Taxi!" I knock on the tainted window of a cab, and the man inside stops playing Doodle Jump on his iPhone and unlocks the car. I place my luggage in the trunk and open the car door, making my way inside. The bald bearded man in the front looks at me in the car mirror.
"Where to, miss?" He turns on the car and sets the time payer. I dig out a piece of crumpled paper out of my jean pockets and hand it to him.
"Uh, here."
He looks at the paper for a moment, then looks back at me. "Hollywood Boulevard, eh?"
"Yeah." I smile. Maybe this man could remember me once I become an actress. He puts on his seat belt and steps on the gas pedal, slowly making his way through the lanes.
"Are you trying to make it big in California? You must be new here, you look like a tourist."
"It must be because of the jeans, right?" I tug at my pants, trying to make it a little more loose. He nods and laughs, saying that you can't wear jeans in such a hot place unless it was actually cold. "I actually am trying to make it big here. I want to become an actress."
The man nods and strokes his beard when we stop at a light, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, "You seem like you can do it. Remember me as the taxi driver who welcomed you here, okay?"
I laugh and stare out the window. "Of course I will!" A billboard caught my eyes. It was a picture of Alfred F. Jones, the world famous heartthrob who has won at least 5 Oscar awards for his work in film. He was holding a burger and drink, promoting a new fast food restaurant in town. Funny thing is, when the billboard switch it revealed Arthur Kirkland, an equally Oscar winning heartthrob who was promoting a company's oolong tea. They were both rivals, famous for their criticism for each other regularly throwing insults like "bloody git" and "old man". Nevertheless, girls fawned over them like ten dollar sales at a clothing store, and I certainly couldn't say that I didn't as well, but only once or twice. The driver turned, and the billboard disappeared in sight continuing to drive down the road in silence. I checked my phone to see a long distance text from Mom, telling me how much she loved and was proud of me.
"We're here." The driver stops the car and parks along the curb of a fairly good looking apartment. Palm trees swayed in the wind down the road, and people dressed up a Batman and other cosplayers snapped pictures with tourists. It was a lively place buzzing with people.
"Thank you." Digging out my wallet, I hand him a 20 dollar bill. "Keep the change."
He returns a warm smile and a thank you as I roll my luggage away, yelling out. "Good luck, missy! You'll be needing it here!"
Waving back, I head into the apartment door and take the elevator upstairs. It was either there wasn't a lot of people here, or it was just quiet inside. The bell dings, and I struggle to drag it down the carpeted floors while looking for door 209.
"205...207..209!" I stop at the door at the end of the hallway and slip my key inside, turning the knob open and pushing my luggage through the door, locking it behind me.
The walls were painted a light yellow and the floor was hardwood. There was a kitchen on the left once you entered, and an open bedroom door straight ahead. It wasn't too cramped, but a two bedroom apartment would have to do. Slipping off my sneakers, I adventure around my new apartment, looking at what the previous owners had left behind. There was no mattress in the other room, so I have no idea what I'll use that for, and the balcony was small with two plastic lawnchairs in perfect view of the city streets below. The kitchen cabinets were empty except for one rusty spoon left, and the dining table had four chairs. The living room and the dining room and the balcony were all connected, so each "room" had a clear view of each other. All of the rest of my furniture back home would arrive soon, so I could get decorating quickly.
It was already 5 o'clock, and I was tired. I slunk back to my room and lay on the sheetless mattress, not caring about the future problems that I would encounter sooner or later. I had no family, no friends, and no one to call. The only people who welcomed me were the airplane captain and crew, the taxi driver, and the apartment landlord who had left a note on my desk saying three words:
"Welcome to California."
