Hi, I'm The Weekend

Pilot - 6inch.

In true Kalani fashion, I was running late. Fumbling my way through to my shoe box apartment in the city. I'd just finished frantically attempting to find a suitable dress for tonight's awards. Shopping for anything bar vintage clothing proved a serious challenge. My Aunt insisted I buy a designer dress, to ensure I fit the profile not only of her company but of the event I was attending on her behalf. I wasn't someone who could just throw $5000 on one item of clothing. So, instead I went to the same recycled vintage shop I always do and bought a long sleeve, velvet blue dress. I pulled my hair back into a bun before slipping my body through the velvet. I appreciated the authenticity of vintage shops as opposed to pretentious designer clothes. I guess you could say my bizarre fashion was an attempt to divert attention from my body to what I was wearing. Stupid, right?

These 6 inch black peep toes would do no woman any favours. Especially when you're not used to wearing them. I slip my feet through and tighten the straps. I stand in front of my full length mirror and give myself a quick once over. In full tradition, I sigh at the reflection staring back at me. I'm not the most petite girl, with my hourglass figure and bra size at the larger end of DD, I barely felt comfortable in my own skin as it was. I wasn't someone people would usually take a second look at, with my dark hair and brown eyes. And if they did take a second glance? It was to 'admire' my ass. I hardly graced my skin with makeup because, in all reality who was I kidding? I wasn't about to fool anyone. I mean, I could change my face, but this body ain't going nowhere. I run both hands down the sides of my body and push in at my waist, as if I was trying to achieve some kind of body transformation by doing it. I finger brush some hair product through my weave, I had nowhere near enough time to style it properly, so natural it is.
I take my last glance at my reflection, another sigh leaves my lips.
Tonight was work, I had one goal only ; to mingle and make myself known to the celebrities. Despite my anxiety rising each step I took towards the door, I stopped and tried to assure myself with a whimpery 'you can do this.'
The buzz of my phone quickly brought me back to reality.

'Your driver is here.'

I catch myself as I nearly trip down my apartment stairs on the way to the Uber. I inhale another deep breath before reaching for the car door and sliding in. I didn't realise I was shaking until I edged to open the door myself. I need to chill.

"Hi."

I politely whisper and the driver says nothing. Absolutely nothing. My insides start turning and my mind runs wild as to why he didn't bother to even say hello to me!?
I have no idea where my anxiety came from, it could've been from being bullied through my childhood, it could be my mother dying and my father raising me solo. So along with severe anxiety and self-confidence issues I have a seriously messed up past.
Love that for me.

But I needed this to work. Working as a public relations assistant didn't exactly scream dream job. When my Aunt insisted I worked for her until I found a job I wanted, I took it. Seen as I didn't have many options as it was. She has a large company with a reputable name and in all fairness, bill's weren't going to pay themselves.

As my car pulled up to the front of the event, the uber stopped just before the crowd so I could slip in and around the back. Again, my hands were shaking and reaching for the door handle served a challenge as my confidence faded by the second. The last thing I wanted to do was walk in front of that sea of paparazzi, especially with my anxiety rising by the minute. Oh, did I forget to mention this is the Golden Globes? Upon landing this job my aunt thought it would be an amazing idea to get me to come here, which was just her way of saying she couldn't be bothered making an appearance.

I dodged through the crowd and because I'm new to these people, I get through unnoticed, or so I thought. Another deep breath barely escapes my lips before a brute guard grabs me by my bicep and he glares at me as he snarls