Golden Hour (GirlxGirl)

3

Watching Jamie go about her everyday life was almost surreal. I'd spent so long merely guessing what she'd be doing, where she'd be, and most importantly who she'd be with, that to actually know all of those things was a strange feeling; it didn't feel right. Last week I'd been spending my mornings in a dingy little cafe on seventh street, serving bad coffee to the rudest people in Los Angeles. Now I was walking across a fashion set next to Jamie West, which arguably wasn't much more enjoyable, but still far exceeded my expectations of where I'd be at this point in my life.

"Are you paying attention to me?"

I let my eyes briefly drift away from the lights and cameras to look at Jamie, who stood a few feet away tapping her foot impatiently. "Not really," I said, watching the photographers work. "Hey how much do you think they get paid?"

"Luciana-"

"People actually give them money, like enough to live off of, to take pictures of beautiful women all day?"

The impatient tapping continued. "These are some of the most famous, highest paid models in the world, which means these photographers, by default, are also the best of the best. It's not all glam and glitter you know; every single person in this building worked themselves up from nothing. All except for you."

"Ooo good burn," I said, placing my hand over my heart. "That one really hurt."

"So that you'll listen to," she muttered, shaking her head. "This job is extremely demanding and I don't expect you to be capable enough to handle it, but you need to at least try."

"I'd be more likely to try if I wasn't being repeatedly insulted."

"Don't give me reasons to insult you then. Remind me of where and when I need to be an hour before I need to be there. When you pick up clothes for a shoot from my tailor, there better not be any smudges or stains, and if there are you damn well better believe I'll have your head..."

She kept going as we walked but I'd once again tuned her out after a minute or so of talking. Everything around me was just so distracting. The huge lights, the fancy equipment, and the people. Each and every one of them looked like the epitome of a success story, and I had to admit, I was jealous. I wanted to be them, I wanted my life to have meaning, to have purpose. Before now I never thought I'd have a chance at that, but now I was surrounded by countless opportunities and it was both a blessing and a curse. I could taste the success on my tongue, but it was faint. It was close but so, so far,  and I knew that realistically speaking I was going to tank this like I had everything else in my life. So what was the point in trying?

Suddenly I felt fingernails digging into my upper arm and before I knew it I'd been dragged into a private room. The hustle of the set disappeared and then it was just me in a dressing room. Just me and a very angry Jamie West.

"What is your problem?" she spat, pressing her hands against my chest and shoving me backwards. "I fired my best assistant to give you this job. Everyone in this line of work is pretentious in a way that makes me want to rip every strand of hair out of my head, but she was... she was good, and she was humble about it. And I fired her for you. The least you could do is put in an ounce of the effort that she did."

"And why would I do that?" I asked, regaining my balance. I stalked towards her; she had to know I wasn't afraid of her, because I would've bet everyone else in her life was and she was used to getting what she wanted. "What are you gonna do, fire me?"

"I could," she said, "if I wanted to. I could fire you."

"Let me remind you-"

"That you'll make my life hell if I do? I got it hotshot, you've backed me into a corner here. But if you'd pull the stick out of your ass for just one second, you might think to consider that you are in a position right now that most people would kill for. You're blackmailing me because you're broke, right? Selling the picture of Zach and I might fix that for a little while, but it isn't going to make your life worth living."