i'm sorry that there are so many different shades of pink in this set
really i am
@kirkland @the-wild-things @the-clary-project @anonymiss @art-fashion-me
story uppppp (and @coriiiii)
ps sorry if you’re one of the people who knows anything about my life, these stories may be a little repetitive...
SATURDAY: Luxe Modeling Agency is putting on a fashion show sponsored by H&M to show off all of their lovely models. Jen got tickets for everyone so all you have to do is show up looking spiffy and be prepared for a night of fashion and drinks (and maybe some debauchery afterwards?)
I yanked my headphones out of my ears as I rounded a corner, stuffing my iPod into my clutch. The sounds of the street hit me – cars honking and tyres shrieking, people yelling off in the distance, my heels stepping on the concrete below me. I pulled my blazer around me tighter. People were walking around without jackets, but I seemed to always be cold, even with summer hanging around the next corner, teasing me with sunny days and icy breezes.
I almost walked straight into the bar, but the bouncer threw out his arm in front of me. Slightly bewildered, I blinked a few times, before hearing him gruffly mumble “ID.” It was hard to stifle a laugh. I felt like I’d been going out for so long now, it was inconceivable that someone would think I was under 21, yet I seemed to get asked every time. I fumbled around in my bag before flashing my ID at him, and he let me pass.
Another arm reached out and grabbed me as soon as I stepped inside, once again catching me off guard. Rachel grinned, pressing a drink into my hand and clinking her glass against mine in a toast.
“Where have you been? You’re late!”
I tossed my hair over my shoulder, smirking. “Sorry, I had important things to do.”
“What, catch up on 30 Rock?” she laughed. “Yeah, that’s important.”
“Ahh, you know me and my exciting life too well,” I sighed.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing my arm. “Everyone’s over by the stage. We think Jen is about to have some sort of aneurysm.”
I could see Ivy and Alex standing together near the runway, no doubt discussing the important issues of the day. The two of them could always be counted on to uphold some sort of intelligent conversation when the rest of us were way too brain-drained to care about anything but our credit card balances and whether or not we needed to do something about those split ends.
“Laaaadies.” I draped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, happy that my heels had made me slightly taller than her for once. “How are you guys?”
“I hate models,” she grumbled. I ran a hand through her hair, messing it up.
“Shut up, Al, you’re so much hotter than them.”
Jen almost ran past us, throwing a greeting back over her shoulder as she kept her attention focused on a slightly dishevelled looking model ahead. The poor young girl quivered as Jen grabbed her arm with a pained look, leading her backstage to have her hair redone and outfit readjusted.
We were joined by Eli, who immediately greeted Ivy with one of those kisses that would make any girl’s heart flutter. The two were so disgustingly cute together, I needed to drain my glass of moderately priced champagne.
“Cute,” Rachel murmured to me.
“God, Ivy, what a bi.tch,” I replied under my breath. Rachel almost spat out her drink trying not to laugh too loudly. Of course I didn’t mean it – but my friends didn’t know I truly loved them unless I insulted them. “I need another,” I informed her, excusing myself for the bar.
As I made my way through the crowd, I spotted a familiar blonde head floating slightly above the crowd. Andie looked a little lost, chewing on her bottom lip as she scanned through the mass of people for someone she knew, clutching her phone close to her chest for security. I sidled up next to her, sliding my arm around her waist and pinching her side. She jumped like a startled deer, pressing her hand over her racing heart.
“Don’t do that!” she almost squealed, punching my arm weakly.
“Too much X-Files making you jumpy?” I smirked.
“No, too many creepy people in this bar making me jumpy.”
I took her to the bar with me before returning to the group, who were, as usual, sticking by each others’ sides for the entire night. When the runway show finished, Jen and some of the crew came out to take the smallest of bows, and we cheered her name loudly – hopefully loudly enough to let her know that she was much more fabulous than any of those baby-faced stick figures who’d been parading around all night.
We knew that she’d rather be in front of the lights than behind the scenes, but she was proud, and we didn’t – well, I didn’t – want to shake that pride. Sometimes I wondered why she tortured herself by staying in the industry; it wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong. She’d just grown up.
I wasn’t lost in my own thoughts for long. Ivy took me aside as we were heading for the exit, planning our bar-hopping route for the night.
“Sorry I didn’t get to catch up with you this week, I feel awful about cancelling our Thursday coffee date.” Ivy and I usually met on Monday and Thursday for quick chat sessions, usually over hot beverages, but she’d had to postpone because of a hectic case schedule.
I waved her apology away. “It’s fine, I was kind of busy at the end of the week so it was probably a good thing.”
“Any more developments with the boy?”
I gulped, looking around. Hoping that nobody had heard. “He’s not my boy, Ivy, just a friend.”
“Right. That’s how it always starts.”
I shook my head. “I’m not turning this into something that it isn’t...”
A knowing smile spread across Ivy’s face, and she linked her arm through mine. “Of course not. So when do we get to meet your new friend?”
“Soon,” I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get him to come out with us next week.”
“You do that,” she grinned.
We walked on to the next bar in a throng of people, picking our way past drunk girls and rowdy guys. Ivy was stolen away by Eli again, and Rachel replaced her at my side. Ahead of us, a group of about ten people – five couples, all holding hands – were laughing and basking in their own romance.
“Where the hell have all the single guys gone?” Rachel complained.
I sighed, muttering under my breath. “Tell me about it.”