Flower Crown

The early Brooklyn sun was different from Richmond's, Brielle's hometown. It wasn't sleepily slow, but rather fast like a shotgun hit the sky. Its shades were a vivid ember and yellow, unlike the pale orange that hovered the Virginia skyline.

Brielle loved that the most about Brooklyn, but no one else seemed to notice. Instead, they rapidly head to their destination, as Brielle would watch them from her bedroom window.

The bedroom was rather homey with peach shaded walls with white borders. The sheer, white curtains complimented the room nicely with dark oak flooring and pink and white furniture. Brielle could get use to the room, but she knew it was for only a temporary stay.

The door opened, revealing Samantha. Her blond hair was in a high bun that laid lazily at the top of her head. Her grey sweat pants rolled up, and Ashton’s work shirt hung off her shoulder to show just how bigger he was to her.

“Morning,” she said in a breath, jumping onto the bed.

Brielle laughed as Sam crawled up to her side and turned to the bed stand. Her hand slowly slid to where her flower crown was. The edges of the flowers were turning a light brown, a sign that Brielle had to change them soon.

Sam looked at the crown closely. “There’s three new flowers on here.”

“Things happened,” Brielle murmured.

Sam knew what she meant by things. She turned over to Brielle, and examined her figure. Although most of the swelling faded, there was still slight redness under her eyes if you looked close enough. Sam wanted to ask if the redness was just from her crying last night, or something more, but she decided against it.

Instead she cracked a smile and said, “You have an interview today.”

Brielle arched an eyebrow. “I do?”

“Yeah, remember when I was talking about the famous producer? I called her last night and she’s willing to read your script!”

Samantha’s eyes glittered slightly when she said that, and Brielle needed a job. Yet, a job interview the very next of the morning seemed a tad bit rushed.

“Come on, you’ll do fine,” Sam whined.

“But it’s a bit soon, don’t you think?” Brielle countered.

“That’s New York for you,” Sam said, getting off Brielle’s bed, heading to the closet.

After an hour of resisting Sam’s clothing options, they finally met a mutual ground on what she should wear to the interview. It was a quite modest long sleeved teal shirt and a black skirt with a bow belt. Sam was against the teal, saying, “New Yorkers don’t wear color,” but Brielle put on a blazer and black tights to even it out.

It was appropriate for the late fall weather. New York was much colder than Virginia--another thing Brielle liked about the state.

The ride to the office, with much of Sam’s help, was difficult. The roads were jam-packed and everyone was close to hitting each other, but Brielle managed to make it in one piece. There, she stood in the middle of downtown Brooklyn, staring up at a glass building that seemed to reach the sky.

It was as breathtaking on the inside as it was on the out. Warm shades of blue of red fulfilled her eye palette as a security guard pointed her to the glass silver elevator.

The doors opened to reveal the sixteenth floor. It was like the base floor; only the walls were complimented with movie posters and notable actors and producers. It made Brielle’s stomach turn with nerves, but she continued to the front desk where a petite blond sat, her blue eyes glaring at the Mac screen.

The woman didn’t even glance at Brielle before asking, “Interview?”

Brielle nodded. The woman smiled slightly before handing her a sticker.

“Put it on where someone can see it then head to room nine. It’s right down the hall to your left,” she said quickly.

Brielle gathered what she could from her and put the stamp on her blazer, heading to room nine. The door was open, so she just walked in. The room differed from the rest of the building. The walls were black with white borders that had blown out pictures of movie scenes with black paint spatters on the edges. Two white leather chairs were prompted in front of a black wood desk with matching white fur hanging from the edge, touching the dark brown oak floor.

“Excuse me,” a voice said, causing Brielle to jump and turn around.

A tall, pale woman was leaning on the doorway. Her hair was a short, black bob that touched her shoulders, which were clad in a luxury designer Brielle probably couldn’t name. Her six-inch stilettos clicked against the floor as she stepped closer to her.

“You’re Brielle Hyde, yes?” she asked, examining Brielle.

“Y-yes,” Brielle stuttered, sticking her hand out.

The woman smirked and gladly took it.

“Samantha has talked about you. She said you’re in need of a job,” the woman mentioned, motioning for her to sit.

“Yes, so sorry for the short notice,” Brielle blushed, taking one of the leather chairs.

“None sense. Anything for a good friend,” she mused before adding, “I’m Natalia.”

Brielle smiled, feeling slightly at ease.

“Do you have any experience?” Natalia asked.

“Yes, I just finished a movie before coming here.”

“Do you have your resume?”

“Yes,” Brielle said, digging into the purse Sam let her borrow and taking out her resume. She handed it to her and said, “I also have a script.”

“Really? Well prepared, I like that,” Natalia smiled, taking both, reading the resume first.

Minutes passed as Brielle shifted often quietly in her seat, watching Natalia’s sharp, blue eyes read over her resume.

“May I keep this and the script?” Natalia finally said.

“Sure,” Brielle responded, shocked she asked.

Natalia put the script in front of her, stating, “one of our main partners is hitRECord, so I think I’ll hand them the resume and script first, but you seem to be a shoe-in.”

Brielle exhaled. Finding a job may have been easier than she thought it would be.

“Okay,” she said simply, before getting up.

“Tell your sister I said hi,” Natalia smiled.

“Will do, thank you so much,” Brielle said, heading to the hallway.
Where she chest-first met into a Starbucks coffee trey.

“Oh my, I am so sorry!” she exclaimed, bending down to clean up what little she could.

“It’s okay,” a male voice said, chuckling, before bending down to her level.

“I’m such a klutz,” she mumbled, before looking up to the male, and stopping.

His hair who short, and slicked back as his slender shoulders moved side to side to clear up the coffee. He noticed her stopping, to only stop himself and look up, finding their eyes locked on each other.

His eyes were a warming brown, much better than her cold greys. A snort escaped him as he looked down and smiled.

Brielle chuckled, cleaning up the last of the coffee before getting up and turning away.

“Wait!” he called after her, causing her to turn around.

“What’s your name?” he asked shifting the messy napkins used to clean up the coffee to his other hand.

“Brielle, Brielle Hyde,” she said.

He smiled. “Well, Brielle, seems like you owe me coffee.”

“I have to know your name first,” she replied, lifting an eyebrow.

“Joseph, Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Joe for short,” he answered.

“I know, just wanted to hear you say it,” Brielle said, turning around again, and heading to the elevator, leaving Joseph in the hallway, still holding the damp napkins.