The Plan
Become The Devil Wears Prada's Merch Girl
Simone had been in my life for about a year when I first decided to make up this plan.
She was drop dead gorgeous, hilariously funny, and pretty much everything I would never be. Simone was probably the most positive influence in my life, despite living over 3,000 miles away in California.
Every single time I doubted myself, she was there. Every single time I thought my work was shit, she was there. Every single time, she was there. I never could thank her enough for everything she’d done for me.
Instead of thanking her, I would make the most eligible man I knew fall in love with her.
Granted, I had my reasons. Mike Hranica wasn’t just some guy in some band that she loved. At first, I knew it would have to be him but after I knew him, it became obvious. These two were fucking soulmates, I mean it.
“They were fucking awesome!” Mike exclaimed. I smiled and nodded, bobbing my head to the ending riff. I stood in the back of the venue, hidden in the shadows with Mike Hranica. We’d been noticed a few times before and I’d been careful to steer clear of pictures.
The surprise could not be ruined.
“I told you so! C’mon, let’s get out of here before everyone starts leaving and Mr. Famous gets ambushed,” I said, pulling his sleeve and then walking through the double doors. It was beautiful out. I nodded to the bouncers, who casually told me they’d see me next week.
The corner of Lexington and 23rd was my second home. I lived inside the theatre and socialized out on the streets. It was countless how many band members I’d met on this sidewalk. Hell, right in the restaurant I was passing I’d met Austin Carlile. I’d made too many new friends standing in lines.
It was safe to say that they’d see me next week.
“You’re a regular,” he stated. We walked side by side, hands in our pockets. The late May air was warm and it was still kind of early; by my standards at least. The owners of the venue loved letting the scene grow and expand. They let those shows run for a long time.
“It’s my favorite venue,” I said, “I’ve seen you there twice, a bunch of my favorite bands, the bouncers let me in for free, it’s great.”
We found the car and I peeled out of the parking lot. It was one in the morning and I was ready to get back to my house. The car was quiet as I maneuvered my way down the familiar streets. I tapped out a beat with my fingers on the steering wheel.
We spent some time commenting on the bands we’d seen. I knew almost all of them personally seeing as I was a regular. I thought they all deserved to be well-known and loved but I knew that wasn’t how the business worked.
“What about your friends? Have they come around?” he asked. It turned out that Mike was good at giving advice. As well as losing my mediocre job and the education I cared little about, I lost all of my closest friends. It was due to petty drama mostly and my intolerable stubbornness.
“I think I’m better off without them. They were bummers anyway. I’ve got some friends out in California. If I had the funding I’d go out there.”
We were silent again and I asked about the band. He told me about some of the new stuff they were working on (keeping it very vague) and the upcoming U.S. tour they were on. I begged him to tell me more about the new music which ended in an impromptu singing session from the Interpol CD he’d found in my backseat.
When I finally rolled into the McDonald’s in my hometown, the music was turned off and we ordered everything we could from the dollar menu. I drove us the small way between the fast food restaurant to my parent’s home.
Mike was constantly exclaiming over how pretty it was here. I agreed. My small town had beautiful scenery and fountains. It wasn’t necessarily the place for me though. I craved big cities. They were my life force.
It was weird sitting in my dining room across from Mike Hranica, talking in hushed voices so we wouldn’t wake up my parents or brother. My family had grown to accept the eccentric things about me, including the friends I often brought home. Mike, however, was so perfectly polite that my mother adored him and he knew enough classics to woo my father.
“Kelly,” he said quietly. I had my head down on the table, my stomach full and my eyes heavy. I lifted my head and smiled tiredly at him. “I was talking to the guys last week about this and I was wondering if you’d like to come on tour with us and sell our merch?”
I was instantly awake, my eyes shot open and my heart leapt. This was a different offer than I was expecting. I mean, this was step two but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I grinned and nodded so enthusiastically that my neck hurt.
“Yes! I would seriously love to Mike, you have no idea!” I squealed excitedly. I ran around the table and squeezed him tightly. He chuckled and pat my back, wrapping his arms around my bouncing frame.
“Well good because I wouldn’t have one of my closest friends anywhere other than on tour with me!” he said. I felt like crying. Mike Hranica considered me one of his closest friends and I felt the same way about him. Everything was falling in place.
We cleaned up our mess as I thanked him eternally. I dropped him off at the guest bedroom before going into my room to get ready for bed. As soon as I shut my door I dropped onto my bed, the smile growing larger and larger until it hurt my cheeks.
My name is Kelly Veneziano and I am the merch girl for The Devil Wears Prada.
She was drop dead gorgeous, hilariously funny, and pretty much everything I would never be. Simone was probably the most positive influence in my life, despite living over 3,000 miles away in California.
Every single time I doubted myself, she was there. Every single time I thought my work was shit, she was there. Every single time, she was there. I never could thank her enough for everything she’d done for me.
Instead of thanking her, I would make the most eligible man I knew fall in love with her.
Granted, I had my reasons. Mike Hranica wasn’t just some guy in some band that she loved. At first, I knew it would have to be him but after I knew him, it became obvious. These two were fucking soulmates, I mean it.
“They were fucking awesome!” Mike exclaimed. I smiled and nodded, bobbing my head to the ending riff. I stood in the back of the venue, hidden in the shadows with Mike Hranica. We’d been noticed a few times before and I’d been careful to steer clear of pictures.
The surprise could not be ruined.
“I told you so! C’mon, let’s get out of here before everyone starts leaving and Mr. Famous gets ambushed,” I said, pulling his sleeve and then walking through the double doors. It was beautiful out. I nodded to the bouncers, who casually told me they’d see me next week.
The corner of Lexington and 23rd was my second home. I lived inside the theatre and socialized out on the streets. It was countless how many band members I’d met on this sidewalk. Hell, right in the restaurant I was passing I’d met Austin Carlile. I’d made too many new friends standing in lines.
It was safe to say that they’d see me next week.
“You’re a regular,” he stated. We walked side by side, hands in our pockets. The late May air was warm and it was still kind of early; by my standards at least. The owners of the venue loved letting the scene grow and expand. They let those shows run for a long time.
“It’s my favorite venue,” I said, “I’ve seen you there twice, a bunch of my favorite bands, the bouncers let me in for free, it’s great.”
We found the car and I peeled out of the parking lot. It was one in the morning and I was ready to get back to my house. The car was quiet as I maneuvered my way down the familiar streets. I tapped out a beat with my fingers on the steering wheel.
We spent some time commenting on the bands we’d seen. I knew almost all of them personally seeing as I was a regular. I thought they all deserved to be well-known and loved but I knew that wasn’t how the business worked.
“What about your friends? Have they come around?” he asked. It turned out that Mike was good at giving advice. As well as losing my mediocre job and the education I cared little about, I lost all of my closest friends. It was due to petty drama mostly and my intolerable stubbornness.
“I think I’m better off without them. They were bummers anyway. I’ve got some friends out in California. If I had the funding I’d go out there.”
We were silent again and I asked about the band. He told me about some of the new stuff they were working on (keeping it very vague) and the upcoming U.S. tour they were on. I begged him to tell me more about the new music which ended in an impromptu singing session from the Interpol CD he’d found in my backseat.
When I finally rolled into the McDonald’s in my hometown, the music was turned off and we ordered everything we could from the dollar menu. I drove us the small way between the fast food restaurant to my parent’s home.
Mike was constantly exclaiming over how pretty it was here. I agreed. My small town had beautiful scenery and fountains. It wasn’t necessarily the place for me though. I craved big cities. They were my life force.
It was weird sitting in my dining room across from Mike Hranica, talking in hushed voices so we wouldn’t wake up my parents or brother. My family had grown to accept the eccentric things about me, including the friends I often brought home. Mike, however, was so perfectly polite that my mother adored him and he knew enough classics to woo my father.
“Kelly,” he said quietly. I had my head down on the table, my stomach full and my eyes heavy. I lifted my head and smiled tiredly at him. “I was talking to the guys last week about this and I was wondering if you’d like to come on tour with us and sell our merch?”
I was instantly awake, my eyes shot open and my heart leapt. This was a different offer than I was expecting. I mean, this was step two but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I grinned and nodded so enthusiastically that my neck hurt.
“Yes! I would seriously love to Mike, you have no idea!” I squealed excitedly. I ran around the table and squeezed him tightly. He chuckled and pat my back, wrapping his arms around my bouncing frame.
“Well good because I wouldn’t have one of my closest friends anywhere other than on tour with me!” he said. I felt like crying. Mike Hranica considered me one of his closest friends and I felt the same way about him. Everything was falling in place.
We cleaned up our mess as I thanked him eternally. I dropped him off at the guest bedroom before going into my room to get ready for bed. As soon as I shut my door I dropped onto my bed, the smile growing larger and larger until it hurt my cheeks.
My name is Kelly Veneziano and I am the merch girl for The Devil Wears Prada.