See The Good

ONE

Leaving home at nineteen was hard. Leaving home and moving sixty-five miles from my family was even harder.

Growing up in Brighton was amazing, surrounded by all of my friends and living on the coast. We would spend hours in the school holidays lazing on the beach, playing miniature golf and eating chips on the seafront. Joe and I would always get up to mischief on the weekends, throwing each other in the sea or drinking vodka on the sand underage.

It was because of Joe that I moved the sixty-five miles from my family, and set up a new life in London. Joe was a YouTuber and there just wasn't much going for him in Brighton, so he upped and left. I was heartbroken to have lost my best friend, and he made me promise that I would save and move with him.

Just under a year was all it took, working flat out and saving every penny I made. And that is the story of how I ended up in London, alone and broke.

***

Having worked as a sewing machinist, Joe had persuaded me to set up on my own in London. My own business. It was terrifying, because if I couldn't pay my rent I would be homeless. I rented a two bedroom apartment in the same block as Joe, and the day I moved in he surprised me with the most beautiful sewing machine. A house warming present he told me - I mean what happened to a card and a house plant?

We spent hours turning my spare room into a work space, and when we finally passed out around 4am I knew the time spent had been worth it. I officially had a fully functioning sewing/work room.

Now fast forward two weeks. My business is up and running, and I already have my first orders - Joe and his friends, but orders none the less. Joe tried promoting it on his instagram but I told him no. Let me at least get the first few out - that was my excuse. Truthfully, no matter how many shirts I sewed in Brighton, the thought of having too many orders terrified me. I knew I could make them, I knew I could make them pretty fast. But still it terrified me.

Once I had moved, Joe insisted on introducing me to all of his friends. Jack, Caspar, Josh, Oli and Mikey in particular. Conor was living in LA so I had yet to meet him, but they all told me I would love him. I didn't hold out much hope, as I had seen him in videos and thought he was just an arrogant twat to be honest.

***

'Mia where are you?' Joe's voice drifted down my hallway.

'In my work room' I called back, stopping what I was doing and turning my chair to face the door.

'Need I really have asked?' he laughed as he popped his head around the door. 'The lads are coming to mine for a barbecue on the balcony, so you are coming too. No excuses. See you at seven.' He blew a jokey kiss before spinning on his heal and heading back down the corridor.

'See you at seven' I called as I turned back to my sewing machine, finishing the final hem of the shirt before standing and popping it on a small pile on another desk.

I had been working flat out all morning, and had completed all four shirts. It doesn't sound like a lot, but when you realise the amount of processes that go into one shirt, it really is an achievement.

I carefully iron all four before folding and packing them. I pop a label on each so that I know who's is who's and head to the bathroom for a quick shower.