I woke up on Friday morning to a big, fat pay check in my bank account, and let me tell you, I'd never been so happy to see some cash. Rolling off of my stiff mattress to get ready for the day, a sudden, throbbing pain made itself known in my back, and I made the decision right then to go out and buy a bed frame this weekend.
Throwing together a classy outfit and pinning my fringe back so it wouldn't get in the way, I hurried downstairs to make a coffee before I left. Today was the big day, and I had butterflies in my stomach already.
My footsteps fell short in the kitchen when I noticed Asher was already up, chugging through a bowl of Lucky Charms. He noticed me, and quickly wiped the excess milk from his chin.
"Morning!" he babbled, and his cheeks went a little red. "—sorry, I have to be on set in an hour, so I'm rushing."
"Oh, it's fine," I shrugged, finding it a little amusing. I breezed past and grabbed the beans to brew a fresh pot of coffee, plus the travel mug Connor had lent me the first time I'd stayed here. "Wesley was telling me the other day that you were in a TV show, but it completely slipped my mind until you mentioned you had an agent."
"Yeah," Asher replied, with a proud smile. "I mean, it's not much, but it's a good start. And we have a decent audience at the moment, so they're talking about renewing it for a second season."
"That's awesome!" I replied, leaning against the counter and smiling back. His enthusiasm rolled off of him in waves. "You'll be back in time for us to leave tonight, won't you?" I added, just wanting to double check. My entire week had been filled with deadlines, and now the urge to fact-check and meet schedules was rubbing off in everything I did. And Asher was bringing Jackson over before we all left together— that was, providing we got the passes.
"Of course," he promised. "Don't worry— I'll be back well and truly before then."
I nodded, before pouring my coffee and checking I had everything. With the company car, my life felt more together than it had in a long time, and the clink of my car keys being scooped from my handbag sounded like success in my ears.
"Okay, well, I'll see you later," I told him, and he waved as I headed for the door.
At work, everything was going a million miles an hour. I had barely walked into the studio when Lana and Kara dumped a ton of stuff on me— an analytics report to go over, a stack of articles and blogs to read, and a running list of comments and emails to deal with.
I took a quick look at the analytics report, and said,
"Looks like the clickbait tactic really worked in our favour."
Lana didn't show a hint of friendliness, but under her cool gaze there was a hint of smug pride there. She knew she was getting the attention she needed for Milk Matte to notice her.
"Lana and I are going to go over her outfit for Monday, and pick a makeup look from a viewer," Kara said. "But we'll be back later to go over the details for Monday with you."
"Got it," I replied, and they headed out of the studio. I sat down at the desk and booted up both computers so I could multitask between answering questions and reading the blogs and articles.
Lana's profile had grown immensely over the course of the week, but now there was an equal amount of backlash coming in from the clickbait. People weren't happy that they'd been led on, even though people did clickbait all the time— but it was mainly due to the fact that so many people believed she was a liar still. I blocked most of the comments, responded to a few nicer ones, and then went through the emails.
YOU ARE READING
Life of WrenTeen Fiction
It started with a Starbucks drink, and it ended in a viral meme. Nineteen-year-old Wren Robinson had it all- the perfect boyfriend, an architecture degree, and a life of comfort and luxury- until she threw it all away to chase a dream of living in L...