met at the gala

Chapter 1

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Grumbling, I click snooze and roll back to the center of my bed.  A few moments later, I hear loud knocking. Who on earth is KNOCKING on my door at this ungodly hour?  I crawl out of my sheets and walk over to the door zombie-like. Peeking through the eye hole, it's a familiar face. Courtney? I struggle a bit to unlock the door and right as I open it, she barges in.

"MIA! What are you doing?! We need to leave in 20 MINUTES!" She yells at me. Her little vein on her forehead twitches and I notice her usual crazy red hair seemed to be tamed today in a cute braided bun.

"What? But it's only..." I glance at my phone. 7:40. "SEVEN FORTY?" No need for caffeine if you get an adrenaline shock from being late.

"Now QUICK! Get ready at superhuman speed!" She motions, her hands shooing me away. "I'll make breakfast, just go change and get those gross crusties out of your eyes!" Instinctively, I reach up to rub them out of my eyes, running over to the bathroom to get ready. After 10 minutes of rushing, brushing, and knocking over things, I walk into the kitchen. Mmmm... Breakfast burritos.

"Thank you Courtney for saving my ass," I say trying to give her a hug, but she brushes me away.

"Nope, not now. I'm at the most important stage. The wrapping of the burrito. Now go get some caffeine in your blood." I obey and get two Starbucks Travel Cups from my cupboard, filling them up with coffee. We both trade, her handing my burrito, and I, giving her coffee. 

We rush out of my apartment, practically running to the Met Gala building. I managed to finish my burrito as we walk in just in time. I glance at my phone. 7:59 whew! Miss Giardino is thankfully too busy to notice that we came in, sweating, and stained with coffee. Our work uniform is black, so thankfully you can't tell. 

After getting settled in, we do our first task: setting up the tables and chairs. The rest of the day goes along fine, both Courtney and I waiting for the clock to tick away the time until we find out which celebrity we would serve all night.

Tomorrow is the annual Met Gala, and we've prepared months on manners and what to do when a celebrity asks for something. I get nervous as Miss Giardino starts naming off the tables. 

"Liam, tables 1 and 8, Courtney, tables 2 and 9, Mia tables 3 and 10..." After I hear my tables, I follow everyone else to the board that has a diagram of the tables and the specific guests that would be sitting at each one. I read them off mentally. Table 2: Taylor Swift, Jordan Fisher, WAIT. JORDAN FISHER!? Lizzo, Ed Sheeran, Charlie Puth. Table 10: Chris Hemsworth, Harry Styles, Ariana Grande, Alessia Cara, Nicki Minaj, Michael B. Jordan. I started fangirling over Jordan Fisher even though he's long been engaged now. And of course, I was a big fan of Michael B Jordan ever since I watched Black Panther. Courtney looked over my shoulder and said,

"Ugh, you got all the hot guys. No fair" I smirked at her and patted her back.

"Courtney, they are all celebrities, nothing is gonna happen in one day."

She looked at me with sad eyes saying, "But you get to look at them all nigh-"

Her sentence was cut short when the top manager, Miss Giardino spoke again, "Okay now everyone please remember that our guests aren't here to sign autographs and hear you gushing over their latest work and how much you love them. Please be professional, and be on your best behaviors. And make sure you dress accordingly. We aren't stealing the spotlight from our guests. Okay, now that concludes for today, good job on the rehearsal, and GET. A. GOOD. NIGHT'S. SLEEP. I don't want to hear any complaints about any of you falling asleep when you were serving soup." She eyed some specific people as she said this. "Now go home, and I will see you all bright and early at 8 am sharp tomorrow." The big crowd of nervous and excited people scattered to go home. Courtney grabbed my arm.