London born Gigi Lastra is struggling to make ends meet let alone make it big in the music business and make a name for herself. Working two jobs to keep her life afloat and provide for her family she's haunted by her past. That's until she meets t...
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Today has been a shit show from start to finish.
For starters, my nose is fucking killing me and Will wasted no time in reprimanding me for-
One, leaving without telling him this morning.
Two, not taking security.
And three, getting so badly hurt fighting.
My nose is black and blue and my lip is swollen and nasty shades of red. Will doesn't mind when I go training, he thinks it helps with my anger and he sometimes comes with me but he does mind when I come back with physical evidence of my training, It's just another thing the press can report on and twist. However, that isn't the worst thing I'd been chewed out for today.
It seems in my rage last night the things I'd accidentally said about Gigi were now splashed over every front page and every social media outlet. I've spent all day wondering if Gigi had seen them yet, after how nice she was this morning I regret what I said and the malicious way I said it, she even apologised to me and helped me after I rammed my knee into her several times. She's probably going to hate me even more, but It's not like I even meant it, I was just... angry but Tessa didn't care how angry I was, she cared that I had slated her newest guinea pig on a worldwide level.
She rang me 30 minutes ago demanding I come to her office, I'm now sat in a velvet red chair in front of a black desk that's covered in awards, a large Mac and several loose bits of paper. There are a few golden frames full of family photos sat by the Mac and a vase of flowers that should have been thrown out about a week ago, their browning petals scattered around the ceramic base of the white swirled vase. Behind the desk are rows of gold disks hanging in frames on the white walls.
Tessa walks into the room shutting the door carefully behind her. The temperature drops 20 degrees and a chill is floating in the air, I turn to look at Will, whos stood behind me but he doesn't make eye contact, he just stares forward with his arms fastened tightly behind his back, creating a formal posture.
Oh fuck I am in so much trouble.
She sits down nonchalantly in her chair and crosses her legs, a small smile sketched on her face as she smooths her skirt down with her hands.
Then bam.
She wacks her palm down on the desk making the awards move slightly, her body creeps across the surface until she's eye to eye with me. Her body is tense and her Jaw looks like its wired shut.
I swallow the panic that's rising in my throat, her rose-scented perfume wafts around my nose. Hey eyes narrow at me, which creates a considerable amount of wrinkles under her eye, she obviously hadn't had her monthly botox yet... no wonder she's in a dangerous mood.
Suddenly she slinks back into her chair and lets out a lengthy sigh bringing her thumb and finger to pinch the bridge of her nose. The air in the room is stale, nobody says anything or moves. The silence is eating at my confidence, making me panic even more.
