Inizio (COMPLETED)

2. Here we go

Thursday: T-1 Hour

I sat in my car looking at the crowd of people lined up to head in. I was used to crowds, but not crowds this big. I'd gotten so used to going to the same place for such a long time that I wasn't entirely ready to start somewhere new. But, the money was good. REALLY good (so I found out from their website).

I can do this. Since when have I been nervous? Get your thong straight and go do your thing.

I stepped out the car and made my way to the front of the line. A tall woman, about 5'10, stood at the door next to the bouncer. She looked at her watch and gave a group of girls the stink eye, as if they weren't up to her expectations. As soon as I caught her eye, she smiled and waved me over. I picked up the pace and upon reaching her, shook her hand.

"I'm assuming you're Zhara? I'm Melinda. Come on in," she yelled over the loud group of people. I followed her through massive double doors that opened way to a gorgeous club. Lights everywhere, glass tables, full bar, and very rich looking people. There were people of unspeakable wealth and notoriety being seated, by women with short, tasteful— but revealing— dresses, on white leather couches. By the exit doors was a small crowd of people starting to leave. In the corner of my eye, I saw the CEO of Highland Towers grabbing a woman's ass. She laughed and played with his tie.

Either she's been living under a rock or she's purposely ignoring the fact that one of the richest men in L.A. just got married on live television a week ago. Hell, I can see the ring from here.

The DJ booth was in its own corner with tall shoots of water rising and falling to the beat of the music. Melinda winded through the crowd and I felt a few eyes on us as we passed through. I suddenly felt self conscious in my dark denim jeans and plain white tee. My long, dark, brown hair was in a decent—but not good enough—ponytail. I wasn't used to such a high class surrounding.
"We had a few options for what you could wear, but now that I've seen you in person I'm not sure they'll be the right fit. We don't have much time to resize the dresses so whatever fits, ships."

Anywhere around the country... oh grow up!

I nodded in understanding and walked through the door she held open. Inside, straight ahead, was a tall mirror and next to it was a vanity. On the the vanity lay makeup, lashes, perfumes and snacks. On the soft, beige colored walls hung framed photos of people whom I assumed were past hostess's. The floor was dark wood, but in the center of the room was a fuzzy rectangle rug. Heels of all sizes lined the bottom of the wall and above them was a rack of dresses.

"The people out there are clearing out because usually around this time we get a lot of the upper class snobs. And not many want their night ruined by obscenely rich narcissistic people so they tend to head to Oxygen, which is a bit more laid back," Melinda said laughing.

"I get them," she continued as she started holding dresses up to my body, " it gets pretty stuffy out there— what with all the big egos taking up most of the room. This place isn't anything like Oxygen, I'll tell you that much. These people will talk to you like you're a freaking peasant. It gets hard taking all their shit and not being able to say anything, but that's just how it goes here. If you so much as blink too many times in front of them and they feel offended, consider yourself fired. Not by my choice, but with these types of people, what says, goes. Moral of the story is: Don't start none, won't be none." She lifted my chin as she placed a long black dress against my chest.

"I think we found the one! What do you think?"

I eyed the dress, admiring the slit that appeared on the side. The straps were spaghetti like and seemed to cross. The cleavage part was invisible. In other terms, my boobs would be on full display. Obviously not the nipple. Before I could protest, she handed it to me and hurried me to try it on.

"It's 8:43. The makeup team will be here shortly, so I'd hurry if I were you. You're on in less than 20." Melinda pushed a blond lock of her medium length, curly hair out of her face, fixed her navy blue sheath dress, and walked out.

***
Just as promised, the makeup team showed up a few minutes after Melinda left and I was frozen in front of the mirror. I've never seen a dress give off so much skin, I mean, what! I turned slightly and stuck my leg out to see how high the slit was. It was high. Higher than Afroman when he sang Colt 45. I gave God a silent prayer thanking him for reminding me to shave cause, boy oh boy , what a sight that would've been.

" Rápido, rápido!! What are you doing girl? You look fantastic just sit, sit! Let's fix that hair! Dios mío," said a guy, whose small name tag read Dario. There were only two people: the hair stylist and the makeup artist. As soon as I sat, they got to work.

"Wow, you've got perfect skin. What the hell do you do, facials," asked the makeup artist. She had pitch black hair with dark red tips. Her glowing latte toned skin stood out against her short black dress. Her name tag read Selena.

"Facials?! Mami, please. She doesn't seem like those perra's out there getting free 'facials' from random men," Dario motioned with air quotes. Selena started laughing and I followed suit quietly giggling.

"To answer your question, no, I don't do facials."

They both looked at me as if waiting for me to say something.

"Uhm, NEITHER one," I said quickly, a blush forming on my cheeks. They laughed and added finishing touches just in time. Melinda walked in and talked to them about who knows what. I was too busy looking at my reflection and thinking.

I don't even remember the last time I had sex. Well, I do but... last year? No, no, less than that... right? Omygosh! What the actual fuck. So it is possible to be so busy you forget to have sex??!? Ugh! No wonder it takes me forever to fucking finish an application I started  two weeks ago.

My eyes caught the time on the wall clock: 9:00.
I got up from my seat and looked at my Armenian inherited, tan, glimmering skin and my straightened hair. The black mascara Selena graced my long lashes with made my blue-gray eyes stand out.

"Hey! You're on," said Melinda as she pushed out Dario and Selena.

"See you out there, girl," they said. I smiled and gave a short wave.

With one last look, ignoring the sudden butterflies, I walked out.

Showtime...