A Bottle of Hairdye

Chapter One - Fate, Luck, A Fluke

“So you have an interview at 8:00 AM tomorrow, so be in bed by 7:00 tonight, sharp” Sophie droned on, looking up from her clipboard at moments to give me a stern look, “and I mean it, no late night movies or texting”

I nodded lazily in response, “Got it”

Her mousy brown hair was slicked back tightly into a professional bun, and her pristine pencil skirt and blouse were perfectly in place as always. The woman was a walking talking, human vessel of OCD. But I guess that’s what makes her the most sought after manager in New York City.

“There’s a photo shoot at noon as well, so the minute the interview cameras shut off, we need to bolt out of there”

Peeking over her shoulder, I could see the busy schedule lined up for tomorrow. Sophie’s messy scribble was illegibly written beside the many appointments, most likely with memos and things to remember. I’m sure that if my hair were its natural blond color, it would have gone fully gray by now with all the running around.

As I reached for the vanilla donut on the table set up in my dressing room, a hand slapped my own away. I pouted slightly and childishly as my manger prattled on about how fatty foods will make me break out, or gain a clothing size. Nothing I hadn’t heard before.

“Just one cant hurt” I tried to reason, eyeing the baked pastry in hunger. It was just sitting there, calling my name.

“Christina!”

Or I guess it was just Sophie…

“There are organic apples in your hotel room, you can snack on those when we arrive”

Shrugging in defeat, I followed her as she began sauntering out the exit to the awaiting sleek, black, town car.

Sliding across the leather seat, I promptly yanked my iphone out of the duffle bag that was sitting on the floor, popping in the headphones. The melody of Everything At Once by Lenka began and I relaxed in the backseat.

It’s hard to think that this is really happening sometimes. That this is really me life now. There are some days that I still think I need to wake up for school, and days I wake up dreading facing my classmates. But that’s all behind me now. It’s just a bunch of useless memories.

When I had packed my bags for New York, I had no regrets. Ottawa just wasn’t home anymore. Being the mistake of a high school fling, my parents lived separately. My mom in Ottawa, and dad in NYC. Although, I was slightly shocked when my dad had agreed to let me move out here with him. It’s not like he had applied himself much to the role of father before I got here.

The rest of the story is simply constructed by luck. I had gone to countless auditions and record companies, but I got the same comment every time.

 “Your look is over done”

I would get home and stare at my reflection for hours on end, scrutinizing my features, regretting being born with such an average look. An over done look. All I ever saw looking back at me was a fragile, heartbroken girl, who was no closer to proving she was worth something than before.

Where the luck comes in, was while I was picking up Advil at the Walgreens in Time Square. Right in the middle of the medicinal isle, was something slightly odd. A box of light purple hair dye. Maybe it was the exhaustion from being declined countless times, or maybe it was the nagging need to start over. But somehow that disregarded hair dye made it into my plastic Walgreens bag.

Call it what you will. Fate, luck, a fluke, but the next I walked into a record company, I was signed on the spot. I had never been one to purposely try and stand out from a crowd, but there was no hiding now with hair the color of watered down kool aid.