(10/05/19)
NIXIE'S P.O.V
"Breathe, breathe, in and out, in and out..." I whisper under my breath, hands tight and ghostly.
I shiver in the decreasing warmth of the cheap puffer jacket around my shoulders, pulling the stupid material closer. It's times like this where I really, really miss the tartan jacket. It also doesn't help that I wore only a singlet underneath.
The Sydney city shines under the overbearing light of the sun, still just that little bit too bright behind the winter clouds. Traffic lights go red as cars halt quickly, and walking lights turn vibrant green. People in business suits stroll across the road. On the other end, parents with young children sigh as they hurry to make it across in time before cars run them over.
City life, I guess.
I climb up the marble steps of the skyscraper, exhaling in happy relief as an elevator comes into sight. I do not have the stamina to walk up thirty bloody flights of stairs. Especially in these heels. I dressed tidily for this interview, which means no crazy flares and no bright nail polish. I did keep my rings on though.
A large glass door greets me at the other end of the corridor greets me, a clean office space behind it. There is no sign of colour, apart from a strange burst of purple strewn up the wall. I think it's crayon.
Sitting down, I smooth out the black satin skirt that adorns my body from the waist down. My mind won't stop spinning, stop turning, stop spiralling out of control. My skin runs pink as my heart thumps anxiously in my chest, hands going cold. Instinctively, I hold the rose ring between my fingertips, feeling every crevice in the aging metal. Is it strange that it still makes me feel calm?
"Miss Oliver?" A woman pops her head out of the door.
The sudden noise makes me snap my gaze to her. Her hair is styled beyond perfection, all tight brown curls straight from a 50s movie, and eyebrows plucked into narrow arches. She seems a bit scary.
"She's ready to see you now. Come with me."
I hurriedly stand up, smoothing out my skirt and hearing my heels click on the floor underneath me. My eyes catch a glimpse of a small succulent plant on the woman's desk as she leads me past it. Even it looks wilted, and in need of some love. Was this a good idea?
As I follow her through a corridor, the atmosphere changes. Instead of an underlying gloom, it's sunnier. A door comes into view, covered in magazine collages and bright vintage posters. It reminds me of my bedroom. In the centre, a black whiteboard reads Ms Lynn.
It's the same whiteboard that my counsellor at school had, funnily enough.
"She's just in there. Good luck with everything."
"Oh thank you..."
My words get lost in the breeze as the door opens, making my head turn away from the woman's tight-lipped smile to focus on the tall lady standing in the doorway. She must be at least 5'10. A stark contrast to her assistant as well, with lengthy blonde hair that is the healthiest set of locks I've ever seen, and perfectly contoured makeup.
She definitely works in photography.
Her teeth glare at me, too white for my eyes, as she graciously walks forward to shake my hand. I almost feel like I'm on a film set. Her nails are perfectly manicured in a professional shade of dusky pink, her skin smooth and moisturised. This is most definitely who I'm here to see.
YOU ARE READING
GOLDEN (harry styles)
Fanfictionwhen nixie rose ester oliver gets a surprise email saying that she has been chosen as harry styles's tour photographer, she says yes. she says the three letter word that has the power to change your whole life. luckily for her it did, in the form o...
