Flashing Lights

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Chapter 23

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Martin
"Alright, got everything?" I ask Crystal.
"I believe so." She responds.
"I'll call off the list. Passport?"

"Check."
"Boarding passes?"
"Check."
"Clothes, phone, phone charger?"
"Check, check, and check."
"Didn't leave anything in the drawers or the bathroom? "
"No, sir."
"Got all your makeup?"
"Mhmmm. Got your laptop and everything?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then off we go. Call the cab." We make our way out of the hotel.

Since yesterday was our last day here in my hometown, we went to see my parents. I hate to always be on the move, away from them. But I make sure to aways see them when I have the chance, including Laura.

Being up at 6 am isn't exactly my forté, but if we want to be back in a reasonable time and have the building ready by tomorrow, so be it.

Once we land, we took two separate Ubers to our places to rest up for tomorrow. Jet lag is a pain in the ass if not treated immediately.

-A few weeks later-

"Come on, Martin. We're gonna be late." Crystal rushes me.

I have a photoshoot with Vogue magazine today.

Crystal is driving us there. She's wearing a pink peplum top, black skinny pants and nude colored heels. Her hair is up into a ponytail, which the length stops at the middle of her back. The front portion of her hairline is swooped to the side, giving the illusion of bangs. What a woman. A woman that I can't have.

We arrive at the place and I'm pulled out of my reverie as she places the car in park. We both step out and walk inside the building. I didn't bother doing anything to my hair because the stylists would take care of that and also my outfit.

A man walks up to us not long after we enter the building. "Bonjour mademoiselle et monsieur. My name is Jean Baptiste and I am your photographer today." He shakes hands with us. So he's French.

"Ton accent est très charmant!" (Translation: Your accent is very charming!) Crystal says out of the blue. What the...

"Ah merci beaucoup, mademoiselle! Comment t-appelles tu?" (Ah, thank you very much miss! What's your name?)
"Crystal-Violet."
"Enchanté, Crystal-Violet." (Nice to meet you, Crystal-Violet.) He takes her hand and kisses the back of it. "Come with me, this way." Finally, some English.

We follow Jean Baptiste. "I wasn't aware of your French-speaking abilities." I say lowly so only Crystal can hear.

"Oh yeah, my dad taught me a little and I also took French in high school."

While we were still following Jean Baptiste, a woman runs up to him panick-stricken.

"Mr. Baptiste, I do apologize but there seems to be no hair stylist for Martin Garrix. I tried to tell them tha- wait." She pauses, looking at Crystal.

Crystal-Violet
Why is she looking at me? And why is she walking up to me?

"Ma'am, would you mind doing his hair for us? We're so sorry about the inconvenience."
I had no problem with that. I used to do my little brother's hair when he was getting ready for school in the morning. "Oh yeah, sure. Gladly!"
The wash of relief was very noticeable as it came over her.

"Oh thanks so much! You're his manager, correct?"
"That is."
"Alright, the styling stations are over there." She pointed across the room to the left of us. Other celebrities were getting their hair and makeup did. Oh my gosh, that's THE Dua Lipa and Bebe Rexha!

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