Chapter Twenty-Three.

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"Just like that Zana! This is a great shot." Lem, the director of Artists on Artists said to me as they shot some B-roll footage for my interview. I was out of my element on that side of the camera, though it didn't seem to show.

Pardison, my first and most loyal client had chosen me to be the artist who would participate with him

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Pardison, my first and most loyal client had chosen me to be the artist who would participate with him. I found it both flattering and rewarding that he respected my work as a valid art form. When the crew was satisfied with the footage, I was escorted to a faux studio setup where Pardison was already waiting. He offered me a drink but I declined, knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea for the taste of alcohol to become reacquainted with my tongue.

The first question that we were supposed to ask each other was, 'to whom to do you owe your success'. Something about that question irritated me for two reasons; I wasn't convinced that I was a success yet and if I was, I would owe it to myself.

"My gotdamn self, I don't like the way that question is worded man." Pardi answered, "I don't like the idea of owing anyone."

I nodded in agreement and provided a similar answer. To owe someone meant that I was indebted to them which wasn't the case with my career. I did the work and had been rejected countless times; I still had the wall of letters to prove it. Though I received help by way of employment, I liked to believe that I earned my keep by performing well at my job.

"What's the hardest part about your side of the industry?" I asked him, though we were each given an outline of questions to ask, it was easier for me to phrase them in my own way.

He pulled at his beard while he thought about his answer, "Separating myself from other artists, like it's nice to be linked to them and recognized sometimes but your boy is not a one trick pony. That make any sense?"

"It does and I get that; it's okay for that to draw in more listeners, but then you want them to stay for you." I smiled, trying my best not to laugh at the way he constantly licked his lips.

Pardi nodded, "Yeah, exactly. I've got one for you; what's a major misconception about stylists?" I laughed heartily at that question, there were many but one stuck out to me.

"That all I do all day is help famous people play dress up, if only it were that simple." I answered, "I think that people tend to downplay how much your attire affects the way that people perceive you."

He chuckled, "I'll never forget what you told me about wearing too much jewelry." Pardison looked directly into one of the cameras, "You gotta hire her to find that out." He winked.

"I was surprised and glad when you asked me to be here because it let me know that you respect the role that I play in your professional life." I said sincerely, "Has it been hard to gain acceptance and respect from your peers and idols?"

His mouth twitched in a shadow of a smirk, "I'll just say that it's always enlightening to meet your idols; it'll either fulfil a dream or crush it. As for my peers, I feel the love sometimes and other times I hear the knives sharpening behind my back." Pardi shrugged.

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