L.A.

Chapter 1: Nair Bryant

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP...

I wished my alarm clock would sound like this-......... Quiet, isn't it? My name is Nair Bryant. I've also felt spent each time I wake up as if the world is trying to do this on purpose. Every day, I always work in the same store and have consistently been asking: How is it like on the other side? I've always be inquiring how Los Angeles is on the other side of those skyscrapers. The entertainment and social media made it feel like it's crowded and all dramatic and stuff. Others say that it's an Elysium. To be honest, I've lived long enough in the outskirts of Pasadena to know that it's never quiet. I always here someone gets arrested, litigated, drunk, YOU NAME IT, because it happened. Like that's ever going to happen to me!
In my apartment room, I only have enough space for everything I need. Getting minimum wage at a local Nike Factory Outlet about 21 miles away is the best I can ever earn at the moment. I'm not saying I am broke, but I'm definitely also not wealthy. Everyone now and then, I always wonder why I never finished college. I could have so much more to do but the college life was the toughest I've encountered so that was when I realized it wasn't for me. I haven't spoke to my parents in over two years now and they probably think I'm somewhere, saving someone's life or performing a surgery. Maybe, I should've had a better life plan or something...

After I had breakfast, I newspaper rolled by my doorstep. I grabbed it and shut the door to see what's in store for me. All I saw was just a story about AMAs and something about "molesters", but what really got my attention was the Palm Tree Enterprises advertisement. They are the best when I comes to finding the best managers for new celebrities. The ad said "HELP WANTED,clothing-brand models for photoshoot!". Yeah, I pass plus it would probably cost me thousands of dollars. I glanced at my watch and it reads "6:34". My shift staring in 7:30 so I changed into my uniform and started driving away from the apartment complex. Everyday I pass by the same billboards talking about many song artists, actors, and all that other stuff.
I pulled up in the parking lot of Nike Factory and found that it's not where close to vacant, even for a Monday morning. There were many people in the check-out tables. That was when my boss stopped me at the door. "Nair, what took you so long?!", he said. My boss's name is Mr. Morris. He's always so bipolar around us employees but won't hesitate to smile at the customers. "Sorry sir, I was stuck on traffic", I know I wasn't stuck on traffic. He isn't the most understanding boss in the world if you know what I mean.
I approached the cash register and saw a man in a brown leather jacket and knit cap, which seems out of place for springtime to be honest. He was standing at the corner talking on the phone. All I heard from the call was:

"...Yes sir, I understand...I will meet you at your office...Sounds good, see you later..."

At least he got something better to do than sweeping the aisles and rearranging the new LeBron 15's. The man just finished his call and rushed to the exit and as he opened the door, his wallet fell out! I quickly walked up the exit and took the wallet. I had not intention in taking anything so I checked the driver's license and the name reads Kendall Ross. I noticed a business card that says the following:
Malcolm Castillo, CEO
Palm Tree Records Inc.

"I kept the wallet tucked in my pocket and waited for my shift to end in order to find Kendall."