Dancing in Black and White Photographs

I sighed; knowing today was going to be near horrendous. How I already know this? If Corey Lane has a bad morning, the rest goes to hell. I had woken up thirty minutes late and tripped over a chair. It was a really graceful move, trust me. I was quickly brushing my strawberry blonde hair, as well as trying to figure out the fastest way to work. I worked for Vogue as a photographer. My jade green eyes kept glancing at the clock every five minutes hoping it may slow time down. I think that clock is trying to piss me off by going faster.

I groaned in protest at the terrible morning, putting on my plain black high top chucks. Once I was through with that, I quickly ran out of my apartment and raced the neighbors Chihuahua, Mucho, down the stairs to my little piece of crap Nissan truck. ’ I hate Mucho; that little dog is going to burn in hell,’ I thought while shutting Crappy’s door. My poor, little truck has a name that fits it wonderfully, Crappy.

I quickly reminded myself why I was in a rush in the first place and I punched the gas, going well over the speed limit that should ever be permitted in a parking lot. I knew all previously used excuses would not help me this time, but I had been late way to many times to ever be considered reliable. Thankfully, the term fashionably late made the majority of the models late as well.

My boss, Nicko, wasn’t going to be happy with me at all. The stubby Hawaiian man was going to yell till his brains squirt through his nostrils. Sardonic thoughts kept racing through my head as I got closer to my destination. Traffic became even more unbearable the further I went. This was why I hated living in L.A.

“Damn,” I cursed, realizing I had forgotten to feed my calico cat, Claudia. That stupid, prissy cat is going to claw at everything. My thoughts became more redundant and less of a distraction.

I sighed, knowing I’d probably be an hour late. I really needed a distraction to my potential firing. “Should have walked there,” I said aloud.

I rolled down the windows since Crappy doesn’t have air conditioning. I sing to myself, trying to not yell at the people for being slower than the old people in front of them.

I decided singing the cops theme song might help me.
“Bad boys, bad boys, what ya gonna do when they come for you!” I screeched
completely off key and knowing it.

I heard laughter beside me; I turned my head to see a black haired man with tattoos all over his arms driving a convertible. His stupid car was jeering my poor Crappy. Better yet, how does a man like him have a better car then me! I must have been glaring at him for awhile, because he turned away with a smile still planted on his lips. What I wouldn’t give to go over there and smack it off. With that thought in mind, I started to smile. The traffic was finally moving little by little.

Not looking to my left to make sure Tattoo was gone, I began to sing. “Cry me a river,” I sang not, screeching it this time, but it didn’t matter, it was still off key. I really needed a radio.

I heard laughter again, so I turned to my left and found the source. I swore at myself, for thinking the tan skinned wannabe rock star was gone. Although, I shouldn’t go off about his skin color since mine is the same shade. I decided to show him my sweet side and flipped him the bird. He wasn’t laughing anymore, but he still had an amused look. Why was I even singing that lame ass song in the first place?

I was still glaring at Mr.Wannabe when he pointed in front of him. I looked out my front window and realized that I was the one holding up traffic this time. I started cursing and pulled up while yelling, “I hate you wannabe rock star!” not caring if I’d meet him again or if it’s just a once in a lifetime thing. I could practically hear my friend Gemma’s voice scolding me for being so rude to someone. That guy could kiss my ass. I was in one of my most terrible moods and I didn’t sing the rest of the way to work.

I pulled into an empty slot in front of the building and got out. I never bother with locking my door. If someone stole crappy, it would give me an excuse to buy a new vehicle, one that would hopefully have a radio or air conditioning. I ran into the double doors, waiting for someone to notice me. Everyone must be against me because Nicko was the first.

“Corey Lane! Why did you even bother showing up?” he asked. Nicko’s chubby cheeks turned into flames with anger.

I sighed knowing that being quiet would help me.

“You’re later then the rest of the models combined!” His face turned a darker shade of red.

‘Ouch’ I thought, ‘that makes it worse than before. I’ll blame wannabe rock star, those five minutes of glaring at him could have helped me.’ My eyes searched for Gemma’s brilliant red hair while Nicko yelled at me. No one knows how scary a little Hawaiian man is when he’s pissed.

Nicko finally gave up on yelling at me, seeing that I wasn’t even paying attention. “Corey, just get out of here. You’re easily replaceable. Go take pretty pictures with Vanity Fair, maybe you’ll get another Disney star to take their clothes off,” he said with a sneer on his face.

With all that said, he turned around and practically marched away. I sighed wanting to get home as fast as possible to cry. Fact was, this job paid for everything. I don’t even have a room mate to help me out with the bills. I decided to just sit on the ground for a little while to make peace with my mind. ‘Maybe I will have to look into Vanity Fair,’ I thought while rolling my eyes. This day just keeps getting better.

I noticed that someone’s feet were next to me: Ballet flats and white skin. Gemma was standing over me. She was the only Irish girl here. Apparently Nicko thought that we needed to have everyone’s taste quenched. Her red hair was a dark shade and she was abnormally tall being five-ten. She was certainly something else compared to all the other girls here. She sat down on the floor next to me even though she was wearing a white halter top dress.

There was an awkward silence for a long while till she finally admitted something. “We all knew Nicko was going to fire you,” she confessed.

I looked over at her. Nicko never did like me.

“He found another photographer to replace you.” Nicko always had a specific number to what he wanted. I nodded, not surprised in the least. “But I have good news for you!” she exclaimed. Now that was something new for my day.

“And that would be?” I asked just to amuse her.

“Well, since I already knew that you were getting fired, I decided to find you a new line of work.” Not completely answering my question but it would do for now.

“What kind of new line of work?” I asked after a minute of thinking.
“I managed to get you a band to work for,” she beamed.

‘Great,’ I thought, ‘now I get to work with cocky assholes instead of stuck up Barbie dolls.’

I really couldn’t complain since I was already in a sticky situation. “What band?”
She took a deep breath, “Well I wanted you to work for Motley Crue, but they already had one. So I got you the second best band.”

A second best band, what the hell does that mean? Then I thought about it. “You just wanted me to have this job so you can get in for free.” I already knew the song she wanted to hear.

“Oh, come on, Corey, would I really do that to you?” she asked with a slight pout. I just gave her a blank stare. “What’s so bad about it anyways, you’re getting a job.”

That was true, probably the only true thing I’ll hear today. “It’s not even about that; you just want to hear one song!” I exclaimed.

“Oh? What song?” she challenged, having a smug smirk on her face.

“Girls, girls, girls,” I stated simply.

She looked a bit defeated. “Ok, yeah I do want to hear that song, but that’s not even the band you’re working for.”

I sighed; I’ve been doing that all day it seems. “Who’s the band?” I finally asked.

“A little band called SIXX AM!” She yelled completely exaggerating the way she said it for dramatic effect. I gave her yet another blank stare and now she looked crestfallen. “Haven’t you heard of them!?” she nearly yelped.

Now I was just getting annoyed with her. “Yeah I have, I just haven’t listened to them, because you seem to forget that Crappy doesn’t have a radio.” She nodded with a look I couldn’t quite decipher.

“So are you going to take the job?” finally asking for my opinion on the whole matter.

“Yes, I don’t really have a choice,” I confessed. Stupid Vogue gave enough to pay for everything.

“Great!” she beamed showing off her too white teeth.

This was definitely one of those love-hate relationships. Not saying I was jealous or anything. Perfection isn’t my goal in life, I suppose. Gemma tries to hard sometimes.

I twirled and hit my hand against a desk. I gasped at the pain running through my hand. Well this day just keeps getting better and better. “Ok, Gemma I’m going to leave before this day can possibly get any worse.”

She nodded,” before you go, here’s the info you might want to have for the band,” she said while handing me a piece of notebook paper with writing on it.

I took it from her, not bothering to say anything more to her. I was so done with this day. While walking out the door, I tripped over a step. I held in all my obscenities. Yep, if I have a bad morning, the whole day goes to hell.