When An Accident Prone No One Runs Into A Celebrity There Will Be Chaos...

Chapter 7

I wake up at five o'clock the next morning... well when I say ‘wake up’ I don't really mean 'wake up’ at all. What I mean is 'roll out of bed after lying staring at the ceiling for most the night.' When I'm nervous I can't sleep at ALL. To sleep you need to completely shut off your mind and just sink into nothingness. But when I'm nervous the hundreds of thoughts and feelings jostle and vie for my attention screaming out of a crowd of many... who can just shut that down? Well, the point is I can't. So at five o'clock I have had enough, I need to know what the press are saying about me. I grab my scruffiest clothes, scrape my hair into a ponytail, apply the bare minimum of make up, pull an old school hoodie over my head and snatch an apple before closing the door behind me.

It's strange seeing the city at this time in the morning. Usually the pulse of the streets is chaotic but right now it is a slow lethargic throb. I weave my way through the faint ebb and flow of early morning workers. I love the sounds of the city in rush hour. There's a different melody every time you listen to it, different people, different cars, different everything. But here, right now the melody once loud has been reduced to a faint hum. The floods of people and traffic have decreased to the smallest of trickles.

I focus myself on observing the early morning city as it’s the only way to combat the slow build up of nerves swelling inside me. The plan was working at first but its affects are slowly waning and now at the top of the street of the nearest newsagents I can't ignore it any longer. I swiftly jog down the street with an increasing speed clamouring to get my hands on the nearest magazine or newspaper not caring how delusional I look. I push open the door to hear the tinny ring of bell rattle above me. My hands grab for the nearest magazine and I whip it open flipping through the pages with a rapidly increasing air of sheer bloody panic. STOP. There I am beaming out of a magazine next to Ollie. I scan the article and... Its okay they didn't mention the whole sycophantic Steph episode, they just briefly introduce me and then move on to talk about Ollie. I let out a sigh of relief well at least that's one magazine that hasn't mentioned I got fired. I reach for the next one and it's the same no mention of the intern-ship. I once again let out a sigh of relief. Once again no mention. So I reach for the next magazine. Scan. Sigh. Reach. Scan. Sigh. Reach. Scan. Sigh. Reach. Scan. Sigh. I go through every magazine and every newspaper until I can give it the all clear. No one mentioned it.

Feeling as light as a feather I skip out the shop. I didn't even grumble when the shopkeeper forced me to at least buy something seen as I had spent the last twenty minutes reading everything in the shop. To be fair he had a point.

When I complete the five minute walk back to the flat I find Emmie already up and nibbling the side of a piece of toast.

“Hey! So is it good or bad?” she asks me immediately, turning her attention towards me.

“It's fine! They didn't even mention it, see for yourself,” I say while passing the magazine I was forced to buy. Seconds later the phone rings so while Emmie is intently reading the article I answer it.

“Hello, is this Miss. Emerson?” a formal voice asks. Great I bet it's another call from Ollie's crew. What could they possibly want now? I have only just recovered from last night.

“Yeah this is Izzie,” I reply enforcing the Izzie. I don't like being called Miss. Emerson that sounds too corporate to match me. I'm a Dizzy Izzie. They make me sound like a Victorian widow.

“I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Daniels. He would like to inform you that a new nightclub has given him quite a few VIP tickets. Your name has now been put on the list as Isabelle Emerson plus friends for tonight if you can make it.”

“What list?”

“The list at the door Miss.” I hear a sigh of impatience down the phone.

“Let me get this straight… I can just walk right into a celebrity nightclub without queuing, or paying, taking anyone I want with me?”