Aim High, Never Rest

I was just beginning to realize why Mondays get such a bad rap.

As I laid in bed, I glanced over at my alarm clock for the tenth time, hoping that I had somehow read the numbers wrong. It’s always those days when I have a ton of shit to do that I feel my laziness, like I don’t want to do anything at all. My schedule was packed, and it hadn’t helped that I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. My mind had raced all night, too anxious to let my body rest, and I was just beginning to feel the effect as I forced myself to sit up in bed. It wasn’t that I was scared or stressed out. Actually, I was pretty excited about everything I had in store for the day. It was more like those sleepless nights before the first day of school, when you’re way too excited and preoccupied with everything that’s going to happen to fall asleep.

I’d ended up pushing the snooze button three times. It was time to get up.

Thinking back on it, this morning probably wasn’t the best morning to sleep in. I didn’t have school, but I did have an early meeting with Dana Sharp, who after looking over my portfolio, had agreed to take on the job of being my agent. Though I had heard nothing but good things about her from the other actors I knew, I was still a little hesitant. I mean, I had yet to meet the woman face to face, to get a grasp on who she was as a person. She could be an amazing agent, but if I didn’t mesh well with her as an individual, I knew it would be difficult for the two of us to work together.

These thoughts mulled around in my mind as I stared groggily into my closet, desperate to find an outfit that would impress Ms. Sharp. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t just throw something on. I had to look professional, like someone who wanted to make it far in the business, even if that wasn’t entirely how I felt. I reached for the only thing I had that fit the description: a gray skirt-suit I’d bought for a business class. With the blazer, skirt, and a ruffled purple blouse all slung over my arm, I ducked into the bathroom, throwing the clothes on the toilet as I hurried to brush my teeth and wash my face. The cold water against my skin failed to make me look any more awake.

I ran a hairbrush through my tangled waves before sweeping them up into a ballerina bun at my crown, choosing to spend more of my time on my makeup. Though I was by no means a makeup artist, I knew a few tricks that I hoped would make me look bright-eyed, and as I took one final look in the mirror, I decided I was satisfied.

Venturing out into the kitchen, I realized my mom had already left for work, and as I glanced at the clock on the wall, I knew I had to get my ass in gear. In the morning, downtown traffic was always miserable, so after slinging my purse over my shoulder, I grabbed a pack of crackers from the counter and a Powerade from the fridge for the road before locking the door on my way out.

I didn’t think to check my phone until I was settled in my car, the engine running and my seatbelt strapped over my chest. Two messages blinked across the screen, both wishing me luck on my meeting, one from Dak and one from Logan. I typed in a quick “thanks!” to them both before making my way out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

The boost of moral support, along with the upbeat tunes streaming from the car’s speakers, gave me the spark of optimism I knew I needed to get through the day.

As I sat in bumper-to-bumper 8 AM Los Angeles traffic, I casually munched on my crackers, struggling to keep my own road rage at bay as one hand gripped the steering wheel while the other held the bottle of Powerade to my lips. Of course, traffic had to be jammed at the worst possible place, a patch of highway just below one of the billboards for Varsity Vampires 3. It still felt awkward, seeing my own face everywhere. I could definitely see how some people grew so frustrated with all of the hype surrounding the film. Hell, I was in it, and even I was slightly irritated with seeing the promos for it everywhere. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. It was only going to get worse, especially on opening week.

In a way, I was fortunate for how slowly the cars ahead of me were moving. The down time gave me a chance to gather my thoughts, to repeat my own little reassuring mantras over and over in my head. I would’ve been perfectly okay if this was the only major thing I had to do for the day, but of course, it wasn’t. Chloe Mitchell, being the incredibly efficient and energetic person that she is, managed to get our photo shoot with the guys booked for this afternoon. As soon as I wrapped up my meeting, I had plans to squeeze in a brief lunch with the other girls before the car came to pick us up and take us to the venue with the guys.

Honestly, I was surprisingly okay with the thought of the shoot coming up. Maybe it was knowing I’d be surrounded by friends that calmed my nerves, but more likely, all of my nervousness was geared towards my meeting with Ms. Sharp. If I could get through this meeting, I could get through the shoot with no worries.

Once my car was parked in the lot behind the looming office building, I grabbed my purse from the backseat and smoothed out my skirt as I walked towards the door. The sound of my heart pounding in my chest grew louder and louder with each step, my palms clammy as I gripped the handle and slipped through the door.

Looking back over the business card I’d tucked into the pocket of my blazer, I breathed a sigh of relief as I noticed the agent’s office was on the first floor. I wouldn’t have to endure this anxiety through multiple floors on an elevator or rushing up flights of steps in heels.

“Hi, I have a meeting scheduled with Dana Sharp for nine,” I told the receptionist politely, subtly watching as the young woman typed something into the computer.

“Kandi Jenkins?” she asked, and I nodded. “Why don’t you have a seat in our waiting area, and I’ll tell Ms. Sharp you’re here.”

“Thanks.” I offered her a soft smile before making my way to the small corner of leather couches they designated as a waiting area.

I’d barely gotten a chance to skim through one of the magazines laid out on the table before I was called back for the meeting, the receptionist leading me down the seemingly endless maze of halls and offices to a door with a plaque that read “DANA SHARP: TALENT MANAGER.”

The receptionist opened the door for me, quickly introducing me to the woman behind the desk before slipping away to return to her job.

“Have a seat,” she said with a warm smile as she motioned towards the plush armchair across from her desk.

I did as I was told, trying to get comfortable and slow my breathing as I settled into the large chair.

She stretched her arm across the desk, offering her hand for me to shake, and I returned the gesture. Despite her soft appearance, her grip was firm, powerful, and it threw me a little off-guard.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she continued as she flipped through a file folder on her desk. “I was actually a little surprised to hear that you didn’t have anyone to represent you yet. I mean, Varsity Vampires? That’s a huge gig to handle on your own.”

I nodded, still unsure of what to say without sounding like a complete idiot. “So I’ve been told.”

“Anyways, moving on. Kandi, what is it that you’re looking to get out of this? What types of roles do you see yourself playing in the future?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’d like to try my hand at a variety of different roles and projects before I settle down into any one genre.”

“That’s understandable,” she agreed. “But I think at this point in your career, it would be smarter if you had a stable foundation, established yourself in one arena before you begin to branch out and do other things. This industry is all about image, and yes, you’ve done pretty well for yourself so far, but in order for people to want to go see you in films or on television, we need to make them like you first.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little to myself, though my expression stayed blank and attentive. I never realized I was unlikeable.

“I think the best move for us right now would be to focus on grounding your image as ‘the girl next door’ and try to find you strong roles that are tailored towards that image. You don’t want to step too far out of your boundaries too soon. For example, when you think of Anthony Hopkins, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

“Hannibal Lector,” I spat out automatically.

“Exactly, and that’s precisely what you don’t want as an actor.”

“I don’t mean this to be rude, but if you always go for the same roles, the same characters, don’t you run the same risk?” I couldn’t stifle my feelings any longer. “I don’t want to be ‘the girl next door’ for the rest of my career.”

“Trust me, Kandi. I’ve been doing this for a long time, so I know what I’m doing. If you bite off more than you can chew, you’re not going to make it far in this game.”

Even though I felt a little dissatisfied with all these things she was telling me, I nodded. Dana had a ton of experience under her belt, and it would be stupid for me to brush of her advice. At the same time, there was still this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that this wasn’t the right route for me.

“Anyways, I’ve been getting a lot of scripts for you since I signed on as your agent, and I think you might be interested in this one in particular,” she said, passing a stack of bound papers into my hand.

As soon as I saw the title, I couldn’t help but cringe. My Brother, The Werewolf? Are you serious?

“Once again, I don’t mean to be rude, Ms. Sharp – “

“Please, call me Dana,” she interrupted.

“Dana,” I corrected myself. “ I don’t mean to be rude or try to undermine what you’re doing for me, honestly, I appreciate it, but I really don’t want to do another supernatural paranormal thing.”

“It’s okay, I understand. I just thought you may be interested because of who you’d be working with.”

My eyes skimmed the cover page further. Apparently it was the pilot for a sitcom centered around the normal family of a werewolf. Of course, Tony was suggested for the lead role as Tyler, normal teen by day, furry beast by night. A part of me wanted to gag. Tony was so talented, and it disgusted me that due to his tanned skin and dark features, he was only offered these types of roles. I adored Tony, but there was no way I was signing on for this project.

Though I knew me and this werewolf whatever sitcom were never going to happen, I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Dana, who I was pretty sure I’d already pissed off.

“I’ll look this over,” I lied, tilting my head towards the script in hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll contact you later if anything new comes up.”

“Thank you, I appreciate everything that you’re doing for me,” I said whole-heartedly as I shook her hand once more.

As soon as I was back in the safety of the lobby, a heavy and much-needed sigh of relief escaped my lungs. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about my first meeting with Dana. In all honesty, it hadn’t went as well as I’d expected. Maybe I just wasn’t in tune with the reality of the film industry. Maybe I had all these expectations that everything would go my way because I’d been blessed with such success so far, but that wasn’t the way things really worked. Maybe this was the way things I had to be, I’d have to work my way up until I was at a place where I could afford to take risks when it came to my career. Dana was probably right, it would be better to stick to what I knew best before moving on to other things.

I guess I was fortunate that I happened to have a busy day that day because I didn’t have the time to dwell on my meeting with Dana. The radio washed away any negative thoughts as I navigated the streets in search of the restaurant we had all agreed to meet at for lunch.

When I finally spotted the brightly painted Cuban restaurant, my eyes scanned the adjacent streets for any available parking. Another thing I was forced to adjust to as a part of living in the city was the lack of sufficient parking. I’d always been flat-out terrible at parallel parking, but I guess since I was having such a lackluster day so far, the parking gods decided to grace me with an easily assessable space just across the street from the restaurant.

Carley and Hannah were already there, drinks in hand as they waited at a table near the back of the restaurant, and I was quick to join them, flashing them an excited smile as I took one of the seats across from theirs.

“Hey ladies,” I greeted as soon as I was settled into my seat. “How do you guys feel about the photo shoot?”

Hannah’s gaze shifted towards Carley for a moment, waiting to see if she would answer first before she spoke herself. “I’m excited,” she admitted, and there was a certain shimmer in her eyes and a glow to her complexion that I’d never seen before. “I think it’s gonna be a lot of fun working with the guys. They turn everything into an adventure.”

“I know, right?” I agreed, laughing along. “I mean, granted modeling isn’t really my thing, I think it’ll be a nice change, getting to work with our friends and all.”

The other two girls nodded stiffly before Carley changed the subject. “I wonder what the clothes are going to look like.”

We were all still gushing over what we hoped we’d be wearing when Maxine entered the restaurant, clad in another one of the overly-sexed up leather ensembles we’d all seen her wearing for the past week or so around the building.

“Do you think Chloe’s actually going to let her wear that?” Carley quickly whispered to Hannah, but I never heard her response.

While the other two girls snapped to attention, their expressions uncomfortable as they watched Maxine from across the room, I eagerly waved her over to our table.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized that, though I felt like I knew each of these girls relatively well on an individual basis, the four of us had never really hung out together. There was an obvious tension between all of us as Maxine took the empty chair beside me, all of us unsure of how to communicate with each other. In reality, it really shouldn’t have been this hard. We were all in similar places in our lives, all equally ambitious and striving to better ourselves. Sure, Maxine’s new wardrobe choices were a little eyebrow raising, but we had all been there. Each of us had to sacrifice something to get a better shot at achieving our dreams, Maxine’s was just a little more obvious, but I didn’t feel like it was fair to judge.

“Hey Maxine, killer party the other night,” I commented as soon as the waiter took our drink orders. “I’ve been blasting your EP in my car ever since I got it. Definitely good stress relief music.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it,” she said, offering me what bits of a smile she could muster up. “We all worked really hard on that album.”

The other girls remained silent, and it was rough on me, trying to keep the conversation going and ignore the awkwardness between us.

Hannah reached for one of the chips from the basket in the center of our table, coating it with a thin layer of salsa before she took a bird-like bite.

“So Hannah, how are things between you and Carlos going? I hate to be nosey, but you guys just look so damn cute together,” I laughed, but the silence didn’t seem to crack.

“Things are going great,” she gushed, the telltale grin adorning her features at the thought of how happy she was with Carlos. “He’s an amazing guy, and I’m really glad we’re together.”

Now, I’d like to take this opportunity to make it clear that I am not a jealous person, but I did envy Hannah in that moment. I wanted a guy that made my face light up every time I mentioned his name. Despite my fear of falling, I do want to be loved.

Luckily, our waiter was amazing at his job because as soon as Hannah finished her sentence, her was at our table, handing Maxine and I our drinks before he continued to take our orders. Now all we had to do was force this awkward conversation until our food arrived.

The remainder of the lunch soldiered on like that, and we barely had time to finish our meal when Chloe showed up, paying our tab and rushing us into the stretch Hummer in a series of determined but fluid motions. With her fingers fluttering across the iPad in her lap, she began to explain the details of the shoot while the four of us squeezed into the leather seats with the guys.

“Okay, so here’s the deal for today, ladies. We’re heading to the venue right now to do your individual shoots with the guys. After that’s wrapped up, we’re going to get a couple shots of the guys as a group that we may or may not end up using, then we’re pretty much done for the day.”

She paused to take a quick breath before getting right back to her train of thought.

“Tomorrow, weather-permitting of course, I’d like to get some group shots of the girls out on Santa Monica pier. You guys will have Wednesday off, and Thursday morning we’ll pick back up with our last shoot which will be various group shots of all of you taken around the city. Friday, if Gustavo allows it, I’d like to take some time to do an interview with everyone involved to run in the magazine. Does that sound good?”

We all nodded in unison even though we were all still struggling to soak in everything the fast-talking fashion editor had just said.

“Okay, next I’m going to need you guys to pair up,” Chloe explained. From the pull of exhaustion in her brown eyes, I could tell she’d spent every waking moment since we’d met planning this shoot, and the last thing I wanted was to mess things up for her. “I don’t particularly care how you do it, I’d just prefer it if you’d at least try to be consistent. For example, Kendall.” Her eyes darted to the boy in question and his posture immediately straightened in response. “I wouldn’t want you working with Kandi because there’s too much of a height difference there. It looks awkward on camera.”

We both nodded slowly before going back to staring out the window at the sights that rolled by.

Of course, Carlos was the first to make his claim.

“I’ll work with Hannah!” he called out a little too eagerly, two arms outstretched against Logan and James’s chests as if they were somehow going to lurch forward out of their seats and steal his girl.

James was equally as competitive, raising his eyebrows in defiance as his hazel eyes narrowed in on the boy beside him. “Fine then, I’ll be Carley’s partner.”

“Um, guys, I’m pretty sure the girls should be able to choose who they want to work with,” Kendall spoke up from his seat near the rear of the car, but no one seemed to pay him any attention.

I was thankful that Logan decided not to make a scene, simply mouthing “Will you shoot with me?” and offering a faint smile. I nodded and returned the smile before looking towards Maxine in the space beside me. Despite her harsh feelings towards Kendall, she wasn’t left with much of a choice, and I wasn’t about to miss the two of them clash heads again.

His green eyes wandered towards her, but she refused to meet his stare. I was surprised (and admittedly a little disappointed) that neither of them said anything. I guess taking a couple pictures together was hardly worth starting World War III over.

Once we stepped onto the lot, we were immediately separated, with one group of stylists ushering the guys off to one side of the building while another team hovered around us. Chloe managed to give each group a hushed set of instructions before allowing them to escort us into the area they’d set up for wardrobe.

The four of us each had our own stylist, and as soon as I told mine my dress size, she took off in a mad dash towards the seemingly endless rack of elaborate dresses and ball gowns. The first she fished out was a bright orange, one-shoulder gown, and she instructed me to immediately strip down in front of everyone to try it on. Apparently when you’re relatively famous, you get no privacy.

Though I loved the vibrant color and the series of beading in the shape of a sun along the torso, the asymmetrical bodice hit my waist at an awkward place, making my hips look even wider than they actually were, so the dress was an automatic no. The next dress she tossed me was also one-shouldered (apparently they were really “in” this season?) but it had a much slimmer fit. As I glanced at myself in one of the full-length mirrors, I didn’t think I looked half-bad. There was this awkward fuchsia flower on the strap that was bound to be annoying, but I was okay with the magenta color and the shimmering sequins that covered every inch of the dress.

Chloe stepped in for a moment to make sure things were running smoothly and to her liking, and as soon as she reached me, she told the stylist, “You’ve gotta change her dress. Those sequins are going to look horrible on camera” before moving on down the line to inspect the other girls’ outfits.

I didn’t even get a chance to steal a peek at what the other girls were wearing before my stylist thrust another gown into my hands, waiting impatiently for me to slip into it. As she helped me fasten the back of the dress, my eyes scanned my reflection in the mirror, and I knew that this was probably the dress I’d end up wearing. It was incredibly dramatic, a floor-length ball gown with a lengthy slit up the side. The dress was strapless with a sweetheart neckline that exposed a little more cleavage than I was comfortable with. The rest of the short bodice was made from black sequins that still managed to catch the light and shimmer when I moved, but it wasn’t an obnoxious series of shimmers like the previous dress. Layers of thick black feathers made up the skirt, and in between each layer of feathers was a shiny stretch of crimson fabric that peeked through the feathers.

“Miss Mitchell,” the stylist called out, and as soon as the editor was at her side, she asked, “Yes?”

Chloe nodded as she looked me over. “Definitely,” she said in agreement before rushing off to attend to the next matter at hand.

Once the outfit was decided, another stylist threw a dark shawl over my shoulders before motioning for me to sit in the makeup chair. Carley was at this stage in the process as well, sporting a similar shawl that kept me from checking out her dress. I let my eyes fall closed as the hair stylist worked on my hair, but before I could fall asleep, another woman spun me around in the chair, ready to start on my makeup. Though I’d been in this position before, it was still a hard thing to get used to, having someone tug and brush through your hair while another person hovered over your face, instructing to open and close your eyes at the appropriate moment. I wasn’t against being pampered, but the scene was nothing short of chaos, and there was that sense of losing control that came along with having people change the way you look.

Once they were finished with their job, they spun me back around and gave me a chance to check myself out in the mirror. My jaw almost dropped. I had never looked so amazing but at the same time so not myself. Half of my brunette locks were swept up into a bump at the crown of my head, a small but elaborate looking braid framing the bump on each side of my head. My sideswept bangs were still loose, flipped out and curled to the side, sprayed in place with enough hairspray to blow up a building. They’d let the rest of my hair hang loose down my back, styled into soft curls. The makeup was dramatic but not overdone. My complexion looked flawless, and my lips possessed a slight red stain. My eyes stood out the most out of all my features, and I appreciated that that was what they’d decided to focus on. I’d always liked my eyes, and now they looked even better.

I didn’t get much time to stare at myself because moments after the stylists were finished with me, Chloe rounded the four of us out and herded us towards the spacious room were the shoot was to take place. We each took a seat in a plastic folding chair, still covered by our shawls to avoid ruining our dresses with any traces of makeup, and waited for the photographer to give us any sort of direction.

A series of lamps surrounded the area, the light blindingly bright against the already stark white backdrop. Chloe stood behind us, her iPad still in her grip, as her eyes surveyed the scene. Once she decided that everything was set, she called out the first guy from the other room. Carley and James would be shooting first.

“James,” she called, and it didn’t take long for the tall brunette to make his appearance, stepping across the room with confidence in his white leather loafers.

He didn’t look that different from usual, just much better dressed. His hair was styled the same way, chocolate locks just barely skimming his olive eyes. The classically tailored black tuxedo seemed to fit his frame perfectly, the white button-down underneath a striking contrast to his sun kissed skin.

Carley was quick to join him, shedding the black fabric to reveal a gorgeous yellow dress. Like mine, hers was strapless with a similar beaded sweetheart neckline. The beads that were sewn into the bodice were an array of iridescent silvers, light pinks, greens, and lavenders that didn’t seem to look misplaced against the canary yellow silk. A silk ribbon wrapped around the waistline, tied into a big bow along the small of her back. The skirt of the dress was short in the front, barely skimming her knees, but formed a longer train in the back that hit just above her ankles. The fabric seemed to float around her legs, swirling beautifully with each movement.

As soon as they were both in the center of the room, the photographer hurried over to pose them with Chloe’s assistance. When I noticed how suggestive their poses were becoming, I felt my heart begin to race in my chest. Of course, James was more than eager to let his hands rest along Carley’s hips, to hold her body close against his own, but I couldn’t even begin to imagine posing like that with Logan, and I instantly began to regret accepting Chloe’s offer. This was just too much.

I was so nervous that I blanked out the rest of Carley and James’s shoot, but Carley didn’t seem too fazed over it when she reclaimed her chair next to mine. Luckily, they called Carlos out next, and Hannah rose to join him.

Carlos’s suit didn’t differ much from James, the only exception being that his tie was a soft lavender instead of James’s traditional black tie. The color made his caramel skin that much richer and softer, setting his features ablaze.

Hannah’s dress shared the same hemline as Carley’s: shorter in the front and gradually longer in the back. The dress was one-shouldered, a series of magenta flowers covered the strap, similar to the lavender and pink watercolored butterflies and flowers that drifted along the rest of the gown. Despite the softness of the details, the feminine colors still popped against the white, silky fabric. The couple looked completely gorgeous and happy together, and I was a little grateful that the photographer had decided to take their shoot in a more innocent and in-love direction. Maybe there was some hope to avoid the awkward sexual tension between Logan and me.

I held my breath as I waited for Chloe to call the next member of Big Time Rush out.

“Logan, come on out.”

I swear in that moment that I heard his name, my heart skipped a beat, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

I shakily rose to my feet, my fingers clumsy as I struggled to unfasten my drop cloth. Chloe handed me a pair of black stilettos to put on, which only added to my sense of insecurity.

I glanced towards Logan, and seeing the same nervous, deer-in-headlights expression printed on his face comforted me slightly. We were both in this together. No matter how ridiculously out of place we both felt, we would get through this.

As I stepped towards the center of the room, my face felt like it was burning, and I couldn’t be sure if it was because of the lamps or because I was blushing up a storm. I had to admit that Logan looked handsome in his tux.

“You look very James Bond,” I said softly as the photographer hurried over to pose us. I gave his bowtie a playful tug, and he smiled in return.

“Thanks,” he laughed awkwardly as the photographer eased his frame against the back wall. “You look really pretty.”

It was my turn to echo his awkward chuckle as the photographer placed one of my arms around his neck, easing my free hand against Logan’s chest. Suddenly, personal space no longer existed. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry you have to do this,” he apologized as soon as the photographer had snapped the first series of photos.

“It’s okay, I’m fine. It’s not like it’s your fault anyway. Neither of us really knew it was going to be like this,” I reassured him.

It felt strangely okay, being this close to Logan, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath brush against my cheek every time he spoke. Granted, we were both incredibly nervous, but it wasn’t as horrible as I’d expected it to be. We were together in our awkwardness. It wasn’t like Logan wanted to have his hand on my thigh like that or that I wanted my lips to be that close to his. It was easier to play off that way, but at the same time, I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering as the photographer snapped away.

Sometimes you just want to kiss someone, not because you have feelings for them, but because you secretly wonder if they’d be a good kisser or not. I couldn’t help but be curious when it came to my best friend. That was it, just curiosity. That was my story, and I planned on sticking to it.