La Vie En Rose

If I Never See Your Face Again - Maroon 5

“What the hell is wrong with you, Gigi?” For some reason, Sharon’s voice was painfully loud and extra obnoxious this morning.

“Just let me die.” I groaned in response. I leaned my head against the oval-shaped window, looking out at the clouds floating past us.

“Don’t you think you’re being a tiny bit dramatic?” I could tell, even without looking at her, she was rolling her eyes at me. “The next time you see your man will be in Italy! Thats something to look forward to.”

I knew she was right. Maybe I was being a drama queen. But it was getting harder saying goodbye to John. It’s always worse when our goodbyes are at the airport too. I hated the fact that I was leaving him behind in the departures section.

“And will you take that damn hoodie off!?” She yanked the hood of my sweater down from my head, revealing the messy bun that sat on top of my head. “You look like a hoodlum.”

I couldn’t help but let a tiny smile form at my lips. Sharon was that kind of person who made you laugh but it was completely unintentional. It’s her mannerisms and reactions that do it to you.

“Can I get you ladies a drink?” The air hostess came up to us with the little drink cart and a bright smile on her face.

Before Sharon could respond, I piped up quickly. “I’ll have a scotch, on the rocks please.”

Sharon whipped around to give me a quizzical look. “Are you out of your mind? It’s nine o’clock in the morning!”

“I won’t see my man for another bajillion weeks.” I pouted. “I must get drunk at once.”

She waved me off and addressed the air hostess. “We’ll just have two orange juices, please.”

“Coming right up!”

When the air-hostess went to pour our drinks, Sharon looked back at me. “Come on, G. We have a lot of work to do before we get back home. I have a bunch of details to go over with you and we need to finalize your VIP for both the show and the after-party. We also need to go over the events you’ve been invited too over the next four weeks so we can RSVP.”

I sat up and let out a huge exaggerated sigh. “Alright. Let’s get to it then.”



“Whoa ho ho! Gigi, look at you!” Alma started whistling when I walked out of my bedroom in my new dress and hells. “You’re a tigress!”

“It’s not too intense, right?” I bit my lip, doing a quick twirl for her. “Marc insisted I wear it tonight.”

It has been two weeks since my quick getaway to California, although it felt like it was only a day ago. The minute my flight touched down in New York City, everything was hectic. I had a ridiculous amount of catching up to do in school (and a lot of ass-kissing with my professors. Thankfully, they understood and have been giving me extra-credit assignments), I’ve been approving samples of the final collection I was showing in exactly three weeks and I was handling press and events with Sharon. My usual eight hour days turned into thirteen-hour days and it was definitely becoming a little too much. Thankfully, I had a loving boyfriend who put up with a lot of my ruthless venting and always found a way to cheer me up when I was on the verge of tears.

“Just think about how wonderful it’s going to be when we’re in Italy together.” He told me one evening when I had just about enough with everything going on in my life. “We’ll walk the streets all night and when we get lost, we’ll stop at a gelato shop and have every flavored cone possible.”

John’s promise of eating large amounts of ice cream on the streets of Italy together was enough to keep me motivated until the semester was over. It was all I wished for, especially now, when everything was just so stress-related.

“No, G. That dress was literally made for you!” Alma was sitting in her usual spot on the couch with a cigarette wedged between her fingers. “Can I borrow it for your show? I am, after all, sitting in your front row. And also, don’t forget you love me.”

Tonight, Sharon had RSVP’d me to Marc Jacob’s birthday party which was being held on the roof of The Met. Marc had graciously sent along a dress from his recent Ready To Wear collection with a notecard that had “If you were a dress, my wonderful Gigi, this would be it. Please wear it to my birthday party next weekend. The birthday boy demands it! xoxo” scribbled across it. At first I had rolled my eyes at his silly little notecard and thought it was funny he had compared me to a dress. When I put the dress on for the first time, however, I couldn’t have agreed more with him. The dress had hugged my curves so perfectly, I almost felt guilty for wearing it. It was a black delicate lace dress that had a fitted bodice that then nipped in tightly at the waist with a full peplum skirt that stopped right above the knees. After pairing it with my favorite black strappy heels, I felt like I could take on the whole damn world.

Sharon texted my phone while I grabbed all the necessities for my small clutch, saying she was downstairs with a car. I checked my appearance once more before calling out a quick goodbye to Alma and briskly making my way downstairs. To say I was a little nervous was an understatement. Sharon had briefly mentioned what the VIP list was looking like and it was ridiculously intimidating. There were actors, actresses, singers, comedians, athletes and supermodels attending tonight’s party. What was scarier was I didn’t know anyone. My heart raced when I realized how awkward I’m going to look by myself. Ugh.

“You always worry so much, Gigi.” Sharon moaned as the car drove us to The Met Museum. “If you really do feel uncomfortable, you can leave after like an hour. Just make sure you say happy birthday to Marc first.”

I fiddled my thumbs, anxiously watching all the streets fly past as we drove through midtown. I wished so desperately that John was my date to this thing. He would have made it so much fun and gossiped about all the celebrities that would be walking around us. I sighed, feeling that longing I always experience when we aren’t together.

The party was in full swing when I arrived. There were a numerous amount of photographers at the front of the building when I arrived but thankfully, a lot fewer of them when I actually got onto the roof. Another thing I was thankful for was Marc Jacobs himself, noticing me arrive.

“Gigi fucking King, would you look at yourself please!?” He yelled as he strode towards me. He pulled me into a hug and left a kiss on each cheek. “I knew that dress was for you. I knew it!”

I laughed at his enthusiasm and replied. “Happy birthday, you old fart!”

“Please, I’m barely a day over twenty.” He giggled at his own joke. “Come, I have a bunch of people I am just dying for you to meet!”

He ushered me through the incredibly crowded roof, anxiously introducing me to a lot of people. The party was loud, thanks to the DJ up at the front. I noticed in the center there was a two huge cakes formed into the letters M and J, surrounding by bouquets of brightly-colored flowers. There was even an ice sculpture of his face. He really did know how to put on an event, I’ll tell ya.

After about the eighth or ninth person I’ve met, I started to sound robotic. The same conversation happened with every person I met: Nice to meet you, What do you do?, How long have you been doing it?, Wow that’s awesome! It was getting a little redundant.

“And finally, I want you to meet my muse for my latest collection.” He pulled me over to one of the round tables that had three or four people sitting at it. A man with messy blonde hair turned around as Marc and I approached him. “This, Gigi, is a wonderful and sexy man that goes by the name of Jack Olsen.”

Jack Olsen. My heart immediately lodged itself in my throat. I knew exactly who Jack Olsen is. Jack Olsen is the teenage heartthrob actor who’s been the number one choice for just about every Romantic Comedy movie that has been made in the past two years. Alma was probably his biggest fan too. Wait until she hears about this.

“Hi!” He greeted me with a dazzling grin, offering his hand out to me. “Nice to meet you!”

I carefully took his hand in mine and shook it. I offered a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Jack.”

“Jack, this is my girl Gigi King!” Marc pushed me into the empty seat next to Jack and literally forced me down to sit. I looked up at Marc with a raised eyebrow. “She’s the new up and coming designer on the east coast. Isn’t she beautiful in my dress design?”

“Marc!” I could feel my cheeks turn pink immediately.

“What? It’s the goddamn truth, King!” Marc pinched my cheek for emphasis. Jack chuckled at my response. “Anyways, I just saw Kanye West walk in. Better go give him a quick hello. I’ll see you two crazy kids later!”

Before I knew it, Marc had run off into the crowd, leaving me awkwardly sitting next to Jack Olsen. Great.

“Some party, huh?” Jack smiled at me, instantly making me feel very self-conscious in what now feels like a very short dress.

I flattened out the fullness of my skirt as I responded. “Yeah, except I don’t really know anyone so I kind of feel like a wallflower.”

“Thats not true! You know me!” He smirked, now turning his full body towards me. “Wouldn’t you consider me a new friend?”

I giggled like a god damn school girl and I hated it. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little bit star-struck. Alma has, after all, dragged me to the movie theaters to see all his movies.

“Not gonna lie, Jack, my roommate is a huge fan of you.” Wow, I sucked at small talk.

“What about you? Are you a huge fan of me?” He winked.

“Has that line ever worked for you?”

Finally, the ice was broken. Jack Olsen laughed loudly at my response and shook his head. We began talking about our chosen careers, but it was mostly filled with curious questions by yours truly. I was always interested in how the movie industry worked. Surprisingly, he wasn’t bored by my questions. He answered them politely with a dash of humor. He was really great company at the party. I didn’t realize we talked for so long until Sharon texted me saying she was glad I stayed. Another thing I admired about Jack was that he was just as passionate about food as I was.

“You know what I’m craving right now?” I asked excitedly. “Just a good old classic slice of New York City pizza.”

“Oh God, yes.” Jack scrunched up his eyes and nodded. “That sounds perfect right now.”

“With a large sweet tea.” I added, fantasizing about how wonderful that sounds.

“Well hey, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He replied, pulling out his phone. “And I know this really great pizza place close to Times Square that is open pretty late....want to go grab some?”

“Thats pretty far to walk!” I complained, looking down at my shoes. “Especially in heels.”

“I have a car waiting downstairs for me that can take us.” He flashed his grin at me.

“Well then,” I stood up. “I can’t say no to that!”

As we walked out of Marc’s party, I pulled my phone out of my clutch and noticed there were three missed calls from John. As Jack and I got into the elevator and made our way down, I threw my phone back in the clutch. I can just call him tomorrow morning or something.