Worlds Apart

Chapter Eighteen

At the very least the one holding the camera had the courtesy to become aware of herself – and the blatant staring – as she straightened, forming a more professional expression. “Do you need a couple minutes to get yourself cleaned up?”

My eyebrows shot up at her offer; however I stayed quite silent, almost sizing her up from the distance without my gaze wavering for a fraction. Clean myself up? If I was going to do that I would need much longer than a few minutes hidden away in a studio bathroom. A shower and a brush for my hair would be needed, especially something to change into – I’d slept in these clothes, not to mention spent the day in them before. I didn’t appear magazine cover worthy at the moment, but I wasn’t bothered, they’d just have to deal with my leggings and over-sized flannel shirt that I’d rolled to my elbows.

A few minutes wasn’t going to help me at all.

That’s not what I said, though.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” I answered instead. Without a glance in his direction I just knew that Cash’s eyes had narrowed on me suspiciously, he was just smart enough to not speak up at this time in the morning.

Not bothering to make it inconspicuous I snatched up the pack of smokes and lighter that had been forgotten on the board in the wee hours of the morning by me. Take a minute to get cleaned up my ass. It was too early for me to even enjoy the confused expressions littering my tiny audiences’ faces; I just walked to the other door in the studio that specifically led outside.

“Jude, where –” started Cash, but the door snapped shut behind me, halting his question.

Blinking up at the sun, I busied myself with digging out a cigarette from the pack as I dropped back against the smooth wall, my shoulder blades smacking against it with a thump. I’d still been nursing a sleep filled head when I’d walked outside, somehow expecting it to be six in the morning so the brightly shining sun in the sky was a bit of a shock. At least in the little alley, hidden away from the boulevard, it was slightly darker to leave me be. I really wasn’t minded that the only thing in the space with me was an enormous trash bin.

The fact that I’d left the studio without a key only hit me as I was lighting up the smoke, cupping the flame behind my hand. There was no way I was getting back in the way I’d come since the door always locked behind – they were a little more paranoid down here than up in Belmont. I’d have to wander out of the alley and back through the front doors, where I’d instantly be framed in the lens of some paparazzi that was forever on the other side of the street. But what would it matter? I considered that as I sucked in a deep breath. I was going to be photographed a minute later anyways.

 So I was going to enjoy my stolen time with my cigarettes in the back alley. I was a bit more at ease back here, away from all the pristinely dressed people and their etiquette, back with the garbage bins and grime. It was a bit telling I suppose, but one can never wash themselves completely clean of their past, can they?

My time was cut short when the door behind me opened again.

With a bored look, I sucked in carefully, eyeing up Cash as he came to lean beside me. “Did you bring the key?” He simply held up the glossy key in question that dangled from his fingers, shooting me what I could only describe as a condescending stare. To that I did nothing but blow the smoke in his face.

Although he cringed, Cash didn’t bother whisking it away. “You know,” he began conversationally, “This is actually considered smoking now.”

“Thanks for the info,” I retorted rather shortly.

Apparently I’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed – sound board, rather.