"Scoop back tees, breeze in coupe Smiling is your treasure, you're so well put together Bags and links, jeans and shoes Spikes and patent leathers, different fabrics mixed together
You and me, me and you Go away together, we could get away forever A...
New York, New York. Monday, April 24. Early Morning.
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Fuck, this sun was hot. It was early spring and although the weather was expected to be nice, this hot shit isn't working out. To my advantage, though, my long legs shined in the sun, becoming instant eye candy for anyone willing to watch. One thing about me is that just about any feature on my body was worth looking at, with my model-like legs being no exception. But besides that, I had no time for onlookers and what they may have to say because I have a job to do.
With the Met Gala being exactly one week away, the office was as busy as it was going to get. Besides New York Fashion Week the time around the first Monday in May was completely hectic, and with me being one of the main overseers of operations around this time I had a lot on my plate. Vogue Magazine hired me on an internship at the tender age of 21, and with my charisma and pure knowledge of what I sought out to do it took me no time to climb the ranks of the corporation. Being the junior fashion editor of one of the biggest fashion magazines in the world came with a lot of power, responsibility and respect and I took all three very seriously.
Once inside the World Trade Center after surviving the harassment that men decided to push upon women in these New York streets, the cool rush of the air conditioning calmed my nerves immediately. Even these niggas in the middle of Manhattan were ruthless, and the fact that they were the type to talk to me as if I was some hooker on the street they could buy for a lousy piece of ass when I was the exact opposite appalled me, but being from a completely different type of place gave me the privilege of being angry about the small shit. The kind, chunky face of the receptionist whose name I've still neglected to learn greeted me with a genuine smile. I was in a good mood and I had a little time to spare, so internally I said 'Fuck it' as I strided towards her desk.
Staring at me with wide and intimidated eyes, I softened my expression, saying, "What's your name, girl?"
"I'm Marie. Nice to speak to you, Ms. Doe." Being only a receptionist, it kind of shocked me that she knew who I was but it did boost my ego a little bit. One less person to be on my shit list.
Walking away with a small wink in her direction, I hopped on the elevator making my way to my stomping grounds. I've been in control in many different situations in my life but my job now was so much different than all the others. I've made a name for myself not only around the office, but in the fashion world as a whole. I'm known for closely working with some of the most fashion-forward celebrities the world has to offer, and behind the scenes I was crafting the beginning of my own fashion collection. Only those closest to me know of my upcoming project, and when it was time for it to release I'll be hosting one of the biggest fashion shows of the year. I'm ready.
But for now, I had to focus on this damn Met Gala. The most prestigious dinner that one could attend, I was in charge of so many of the little logistics of the event that it had a bitch stressed the fuck out. From the very beginning of the winter months to that fateful Monday in May, I had to eat, shit, sleep and breathe the Met. Anna was really on my ass about this event and what many didn't know is that she definitely wasn't as hands-on as some made it seem.
