Take A Breath, Let the Rest Come Easy

“Okay,” Grace responded, running a hand through her long dirty blonde hair. “Okay, sure.” She sighed. Music rang through her ears.

She had been put on hold again. She fell back into her bed. “There goes another on, Pooka.” She sighed, and reached down to pet her little Pomsky puppy; Pomsky being a mix of Pomeranian and Husky. Pooka looked up at her and whined. “I know, baby.” She cooed.

Pooka was her 21st birthday present from her father. Apparently a dog would make up for his absence in her life after the divorce. She named him Pooka off of the dog from the movie Anastasia. Grace had always loved the movie, and every year since she was 7 she told everyone that one day she was going to have a dog named Pooka. The little dog wagged his tail, and licked her fingers before trotting off to the living room. Grace pressed her hands into her eyelids, frustrated.

This is hopeless.

She hung up after about 10 minutes of obnoxious steel drums, and rolled over to look at the lyrics spread across her full bed. She read through a few, and continued to cross out and rewrite. The process repeated itself for about an hour, until a knock at the door alarmed her.

“Hey!” Lauren greeted her with a bottle of wine in her hands and a pillow in the other.

“Hi.” Grace smiled, and let in her best friend. She met Lauren in high school, and the two stuck like glue the minute they met. They’ve been best friends ever since. Lauren lives in the apartment across the hall, which was convenient so she wouldn’t get lonely. The apartment wasn’t a huge one. How could it be? Grace paid for it by herself. She refused to live solely off of the money her parents provided for her. Sure, she was grateful for what her parents provided for her, but she was too independent to live off her parents after 18. So she got a job at as a secretary for a local printing business and bought her own apartment.

“I brought wine!” She shrieked, and went to pull glasses out of the cupboard. Lauren was a lot taller than Grace. She had dark brown hair, and dark eyes and eyelashes. She had the perfect curves, and was really beautiful.

Grace often felt inferior when she was around her. Lauren was on her way to being a model. She had already landed jobs for Seventeen and a branch off of Vogue. Sure, most of it was background jobs, but to Grace, Lauren was a lot farther in the modeling world than she would ever be in the music industry.

“So, any word from Bassline?” She asked, sipping on the red wine.

Grace shook her head disappointingly. “No. They put me on hold, and then never came back.” She said, taking a swig. Her lips pursed, “This is strong!” She blinked her eyes rapidly.

Lauren shrugged, “Tastes good to me.” She took another long swig. “And I’m sorry, babe. Keep trying! You’re so talented I don’t know why a label won’t just listen to you!”

Grace stared at the blue rug on the ground. She shrugged. Lauren was extremely different to Grace. She was vocal, and a risk taker. She was loud and some people didn’t get that, and therefore found her annoying. Grace didn’t though. She was a good contrast from her polite persona. The two made a good pair. “Seriously Gracie, just go out to the corner of the street and start singing, I’m sure someone would pick you up!” She complimented. “And I don’t mean some abductor or anything either. Maybe Simon Cowell will stop by.”

Grace chuckled softly. “Thanks, Lauren.”

“No prob.” She said, shifting on the couch. “And hey, if you do meet Simon Cowell someday- let him know I’m single. The man is completely fuckable.”

Grace’s nose scrunched up in disagreement. “Ew!” She shrieked.

“What? I have a thing for accents.” She stood up and then sat down again, and pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail.

“That’s funny, Lauren.” Grace took one more sip from her small glass and then took it to the kitchen. “I hate to break it to you-“ She called as she scratched the scar behind her left shoulder. “But I have to work at 7.”

“Oh bollocks.” She mocked a British accent. “You work too damn much.” She complained and picked up the bottle. “I’ll just take this back to my room then.” She gestured the bottle towards me and then slipped towards the door. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yup. I’ll text you or something.” Grace waved her off and waltzed back to her bedroom to change into a pin skirt and a blue blouse.

She yanked back her straightened hair into a slick ponytail. She slipped on her black pumps on her hosed feet and then straightened up. She picked up her purse and pulled out her red lip-gloss. She pressed it onto her lips and smacked them repeatedly. When she was finished she cocked her head to the side in the mirror. She frowned, and didn’t think any make-up in the world would make her look as pretty as her friend Lauren.

Pooka panted back into the room and barked up at Grace. “Time to go, Pooka" She picked up the little thing, and kissed it on the cheek. Pooka squirmed in her arms and she let him back down. “I’ll see you tonight.” Grace placed the little dog into his cage. Then she picked up her purse and shut off the light.