Fading (A Calum Hood Fan Fiction; Sequel to Pretending)

Chapter 21: Her

My eyes quickly opened for a reason I can't quite figure out. I feel like I woke up in shock, which made me laugh lightly on my own. After a few seconds, a massive headache started making its way to ruin my morning. I suppose this is hangover, because I went out partying again last night. I really don't know why all of a sudden I always go out partying like twice a week, but who the hell cares, right? This is my life so I'll do whatever what I want. It's fun anyway.

Last night was a blur. The last thing I can basically remember was probably hanging out with some guy that I don't know, and he wanted to take me home. I think I got so mad about it, so I just drank all the anger away. And then that's it. I woke up surprised here on my own messy bed, still wearing the same black dress I was wearing last night. I remember being with Zac too. I bet he's the one who took me back here.

I slowly sat up on my bed, my hands rubbing my eyes. I know I have a schedule today, but if it's not that important then maybe I might just ditch it. My head aches terribly and I know it's my fault, but it takes a day, probably the shortest amount of time I had to get rid of hangover. I suddenly remember the power of bananas, but no. That's an old kind of shit and I would rather just ignore the headache and sleep it away. I reached out for my phone, then immediately groaned at the sight of Karen's amount of text messages that appeared on my phone screen. It's almost ten in the morning, and the meeting starts at ten in the morning and I am not even halfway prepared yet. I want to just shut my phone off and ignore everything, but there's just one thing that's stopping me from being lazily and makes me want to make my way to the bathroom and start getting ready.

I'm still working as a photographer. I take pictures of the things around me, most especially the trees and whatever I just see. At first I really thought I don't make any sense, but maybe because of how I put stories on every picture I take, my boss thought that it would be perfect for me to start working in a different level of photography. I still couldn't get what she was trying to say though. I thought she would make me turn into a wild-life photographer but she said it's far from being that, but it's really going to be huge than what I usually do. This was said to me a month ago, so I got some time to prepare new set of lenses for this. Maybe this is what I've been waiting for. The biggest "pitch" in my job. I don't have any idea about it, or whatever it could be, because Karen thinks that I would probably love my job even more the moment I find out. Am I going to take pictures of old people? If that's the case then I guess I would.

My eyes quickly gazed on my digital clock, informing me that it will be ten o'clock in five minutes. I immediately ran to my closet and started rummaging for whatever piece of clothing I could get. I settled wearing a kind of white and cream fitted dress that suited my body nicely. My new set of tattoos on my wrists appeared, and I thought that the people I would be working for might not like it, but I brushed away the thought. I just think it's stupid. I will be working as a photographer and not some business woman wearing suits and ties so I guess tattoos aren't a big issue here. Wait, do business women wear suit and tie?

I'm already fifteen minutes late, so I didn't mind taking anything anymore. I bet I could get some free coffee at that meeting, and I really wish I could because my massive headache is starting to become the main reason why I might hate the day. I never liked hangovers, I mean who liked it anyway? But damn, I just got so into partying that I could not easily let go of the feeling that the alcohol is giving me. It has been such a great way to escape reality. I shrugged. I don't have any time left to be an emo. I'm already fifteen minutes late and I still have to drive my way and find that office or whatever my boss call it. I hopped on the driver seat, putting on the seat belt as I took another glance on my wrist watch. I'm late, I thought to myself. Typical Kristen Walsh, I suppose.

*

Sometimes, I really consider myself as bad ass driver. Because if I was not, then maybe I wouldn't get here in this place right on time. Well maybe not right on time. But as for me, fifteen minutes is the lowest estimated time I could manage to occupy while driving my way to work. I don't regret anything though. Though I'm twenty one and getting old and stupid, I still believe that being late leads me into something beautiful. I walked out of my car, a kind of music studio welcomed right in front me. I smiled to myself, my short reddish orange hair quite brushing through my face. Am I going to take pictures for All Time Low? Oh my god.