Passion and Ambitions

Chapter Seven: Empire State of Mind

Chapter Seven: Empire State of Mind

   Most parents must have been skeptic when it comes to the idea of moving to another place immediately after college, but my mom's different.

   We live in a house owned by my mother's uncle, who I had grown fond of considering as my grandpa, although my throat still constricts everytime I say it, my auntie, her daughter, and my uncle. I was a child out of wedlock. My mother's male cousin took the role of father and accepted me as his own child. Sadly, he passed away during elementary. I missed him so damn bad.

   Anyways, that's when the problem started. My granpa happens to own a shop, where my mother was forced to work and never leave in return for our stay at the house. We had no savings, so she put up with the cranky old man. I was enrolled in a private high school, so we need to be patient for the sake of my studies. I personally think that my grandpa wasn't so bad. He did bought me snacks and gave me loads of money during Christmas and my birthday. But my mother wanted to get away from the 'living hell' as soon as possible. So, when I told her that Cosmo urged me to move to New York, she was more than thrilled! And, who would have turned down something like that? Not that Cosmo's gonna pay for my rent, but still....

   So there we were, looking for the perfect apartment for two at the busy streets of New York City.... at the lowest possible price rent. Which is really hard to find. Finally, after years of searching, we found a nice, livable enough apartment for me and mom. It's a cute place that's as big as Carrie's place in Sex and the City. It had a walk-in wardrobe, which I always wanted. We settled in easily, walking and looking around, my mother befriending the neighborhood, and me working for Cosmo. I was a regular columnist for Cosmo at last! This is officialy the start of my dream of conquering the fashion world.

"Ah, darling. There you are," Ms. G said, pressing her powdered cheek to my own. "I've been looking for you." She extended her hand towards a girl standing. She turned to face us. My jaw dropped. Oh. My. Gosh. The girl was none other than Barbara Palvin, the Victoria's Secret Model. She looked so beautiful. There was grace in the way she walked and talked. She smiled at me.

"Barbara, this is Phoebe. Phoebe, this is Barbara--"

"Palvin. Barbara Palvin," I said, cutting Ms. G.

"Yes."

"Pleased to meet you," Barbara said, extending her hand. I hesitated for a bit, thinking that I'm not worthy of such handshake. Of course, I gathered myself and shaked her hand back. I don't want to be labeled as rude and leave a wrong first impression. I flashed a smile.

"Pleased to meet you,too."

"So," Ms. G said. "Barbara's here for an interview and photoshoot for the next issue. And you, darling, are the one who's going to do the little chat with Barbara."

   My eyes widened in disbelief. Is this true? Me, doing an interview with this gorgeous woman infront of me? Someone slap my face. Now.

"Of course. I would love to."

   Ms. G gave me my script and headed to guide us to the cozy sala-like interview room. I did my best to appear as professional as possible, and to avoid staring at the godess infront of me. The interview went without a slip, and we even managed to joke and get to know each other.

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   Phoebe returned home at her little apartment and found a snack ready for her made by her mom.

"How's work?"

"It was awesome! I just interviewed Barbara Freaking Palvin! She's so beautiful. You know, the Victoria's Secret model?"

"No. But I bet she's really beautiful. She won't become a Victoria's Secret model otherwise."

   Pboebe munched down her snack and then locked herself up in her room. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her image reflected a black hair, dark eyes heavily lined with black eyelashes. She doesn't look ugly, but she's not godess-like either. She pouted, scanning her face, turning sideways, inspecting every possible angle of her face.

   I had deprived myself of going to the dermatologist for so long. And to the spa. And to the salon. And to the magical racks of the clothes stores. This is New York, isn't it? There's bound to be awesome places to get a makeover here. An extreme makeover.

   With that in mind, Phoebe surfed the net for pegs and samples of before and after transformations. She gathered her things, brought loads of money from her own vault/bank, and headed to the streets of the Big Apple. She went from store to store, buying all the glamorous yet simple dresses and clothes she can, those clothes shouting 'trés chic' instead of 'trash chic' or 'fashion victom', with matching pumps and shoes. She chose a well-known salon and instructed the stylist on how she imagined her new haircut would be. It turned out to be a complete success. Then she headed to the spa to relax her tire muscles.

   She went home, arranging her newly bought vanity items. She looked at the mirror, and she didn't even recognize herself.

   This, she thought, is bound to work.