Into The Tabloids

3| Shut Up

For some reason, my mood has been a quite weird. I haven't felt like myself, as if my soul has left my body.

Even though I want to lie in bed and forget about my responsibilities, I have to get up.
I have to do a photoshoot today, one that we've been planning on for a while.

I'm a model and a designer, I have my own clothing brand. I love my job, how I can make an idea turn into reality. I also love the creativity and passion that my staff have, they just know how to make things fall into place.

But it gets too much at times.

Even with my exhaustion, I want to see the outcome of the photoshoot.

I've got Tara coming in. Sadly, I asked Dan before everything happened if he could model the men's line.

Then one of my model friends, Noa Oliver is coming. She knows my past, let's get that straight. Her family works with mine, so she knows everything.

I hope this day isn't too bad, I don't want to break up any fights.

INTO THE TABLOIDS

"What are you shooting today?" Cole, my makeup artist asked, putting down his brush.

"Dan is doing the men's line and the girls are doing the summer dresses." I told him with my dry tone.
I decide to think of something else to say to break the awkward tension.
"I'm leaving early though, I'm going home."

My words made the atmosphere even more awkward and intense. It was as if everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Home?" Cole asked.

"Yeah, I haven't seen my parents in a while."

"No offense, but I always thought you were an orphan...but not in a bad way!" Cole said with a high pitched voice.

"Damn Cole!" I giggled at him. "That was mean!"

The intense tension breaks with our conversation, giggles and chatters began once again.

"You know I didn't mean it that way!"

I rolled my eyes at him as he began to do my eyeshadow. "I haven't seen them in a while, they hate when I don't see them in months."

"I get that," My hair stylist spoke.

One thing about her is that she seems like a cold person. She's barely said a word to me before. Charlotte always made me slightly uncomfortable, I never knew how to react around her.

But I never let my guard down, I kept my head high and kept my words in.

She looks like one of those mean girls, the ones that just appear to be cold and calculated. But maybe I judge her too quickly.

But I never wanted to fire her. She's a fucking artist, she knows how to make my hair look absolutely flawless.

"When I moved here from Toronto, my parents wanted to kill me!" She told me as she rolled my hair.

"I'm quite closer to home, I'm from Washington." I tell Charlotte. "When I told my parents that I was moving, they were so happy but I knew it broke them, I'm an only child."

Why the fuck am I talking so much?

"Oh my god! Me too!" She excitedly shouted. "It's like they want us to stay home forever!"

Shut up.
Shut up.
Shut up.

"It really is! I love my parents, they're the best."

Shut
The
Fuck
Up

"My parents are assholes," Charlotte continued,  "they've always been strict."

She puts a clip in my hair as she takes another strand to roll. "I love them though," she added with a soft tone, "I guess they're just strict 'cause they know what happens in the world."

Shut the fuck up Rose.

INTO THE TABLOIDS

Noa, Tara and I waiting on Dan to be finished with his shoot.
I could see the side looks he gave Tara. She sat with tension in her shoulders, unable to relax.

"Want to go and get a snack before it's our turn?" I asked the girls.

"No." Tara stated with a rough expression.

Noa gave me a slight glance, as if to say "what the fuck?" I know Tara's hurting and I did say to her that I could cancel his shoot today. But for some reason, she didn't want that.

I don't know what's going on, nor do I really want to know.

"Okay girls! You're up!"

Thank fuck.

We stood up to go over to the set. However, Dan grabbed onto my arm and asked for a moment. I directly look at Tara, earning a slight nod of approval.

I excuse myself for a second and make my way to the break room with Dan.

His eyes glued to me, scanning my entire body. "Has Tara said anything?"

"About what?" My annoyance clear in my voice.

"The breakup, Rosalie, you fucking know what I'm talking about."

"First of all, don't raise your voice at me. Second of all, it's none of your business what she's told me." I let him know.

"Don't fucking talk down to me." He demands, his gaze roughens as he gets closer. "This isn't the fucking end."

I need to leave this fucking place.

Noa Oliver, 26