XXXV.

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NOTE!!: my bad :D

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8 years later

God, why do public events and I have a love hate relationship? They're enjoyable of course, and it allows me to meet people of similar interests and those who have more experience than myself, but my social battery runs out in a snap. It's almost not worth it to come at all if all that's going to happen is I get a few pictures taken, I meet everyone, and then I sit at one of the tables with a drink and wonder when the hell it's going to be over. Don't get me wrong, meeting Jack Nicholson at one of these has been the highlight of my life, but still.

This one was a movie premiere and now "after party" of sorts.

With a sigh, I scan the room for the one person who I wish could come into the actual event space with me. Darren, my body guard of sorts. I didn't think I needed him for that purpose, but my agent was pretty set on me having one. Thank god for that, because he's been more of a friend than a guard. Plus, in all actuality, who's going to come after me other than paparazzi who I've proven to be good at fending off by myself?

"Did you have a pleasant evening?" Darren asks as I find him standing around the outside of the room. I give him a look and he manages to keep his straight face, as always.

"I think we're on the come down and many of the major celebrities are beginning to leave so I'd say now is my time," I reply. He nods, leading me to the hall.

"You really do like to make your exit don't you," He says as we walk down the full window hall to the doors.

"It's the most exciting part of my night," I reply, and he just shakes his head, calling for my chauffeur. Once he's set, Darren opens the doors for me.

I descend the stairs with practiced ease. It shouldn't be nearly this easy in platform shoes and this dress, but I do it nonetheless. Darren pushes through the crowd for me, helped by two other event security guards. I wave at who I can, sign whatever possible, and respond with a quick word to the journalists until we make it to the car and they get distracted by whoever's come out behind me. I slip quickly into the car and with that, my chauffeur rolls away from it all.

"How was your evening, Miss Landers?" He asks, and I sigh, leaning down to remove my shoes.

"When're we getting a bed installed in this thing?" I ask in all seriousness.

"When it becomes legal," he replies.

"God," I groan, tossing my shoes out in front of me, "why can't the whole model thing just involve pictures and those one on one interviews? I've had enough of the events."

"This was an actor thing, Miss Landers. You were invited to this one because your costar was in the movie."

"He didn't even come to this premiere, he went to the one in Spain," I huff, looking out the window. "You know, I hated making that movie with him."

"The other day you told me you loved it," he glances into the rear view mirror.

"Did I?" I ask, furrowing my brows, to which he nods. "Well, today I hate it."

"Anything you say, Miss Landers."

"Can we stop somewhere so I can get takeout?"

"You told me last week that I wasn't to allow you to eat anything not in the meal plan no matter what you said."

"Well, fuck last week me, I want Chinese."

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"Yes, I'm fully aware," I say into the phone, shoveling some leftover rice from last night nearly straight down my throat.

"Ok, well it is ten, and you have to be there by twelve," Jerry, my agent, says, "and it sounds to me like you're just eating."

"Mhm, this is the last thing I have to do, you're the one holding me up from getting in the car," I say through a mouthful.

"You better get there on time," he warns.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll talk to you later, bye."

As soon as I hang up the phone, I take off through the house, nearly slipping as I do so.

I slide the takeout across the kitchen counter, leaving it to worry about later before tearing up the stairs to my room.

"Why is this house so fucking big!" I shout, the sound echoing down the hallway before I hit my bedroom door with a thud, my momentum and socks the culprits. I pray silently that I didn't give myself a bruise before opening the door and rushing inside.

When I finish getting ready so that the stylist at the shoot can then get me even more ready, I rip back down the stairs, pure luck preventing me from slipping and falling on the wood stairs before I slide right to the front door, swinging it open. My chauffeur is already waiting in the loop, holding the car door open, as I descend the stairs.

"Long time no see," I say, nearly diving into the backseat. He just chuckles, shaking his head in response.

We make it to the building just in time for me to run for my life (or livelihood, rather) and then pretend I definitely was not when I get to the shooting set. I enter the room, trying my best to avoid anyone waking around as I find my stylist by the mirror. I sit down in the chair with a huff, smoothing out some rebel pieces of hair before dropping my hands in my lap.

"Look at that, you arrived with two minutes to spare," she says, grinning at me.

"A new record?" I ask. She shakes her head, chuckling. 

"You exhaust me."

"That's a good thing right?" I tilt my head.

A deep bark interrupts our conversation and it takes me a moment to actually process what the noise was. I swivel my head, finding two big german shepherds on set, tails wagging as they look at the man holding their leashes.

"Oh my god, puppies," I look to my stylist, "why are they here? I want them."

"They're a part of your shoot," She says, looking at me with furrowed brows. My mouth forms into an O as I look back at them.

"I feel like I should probably know these types of things."

"Maybe."

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NOTE!!: let's just ignore how short it is, respectfully :)

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