Finer Things // h.s.

Paris or Bust

July 29th, 2016

"Yeah, I'm on my way! I needed a coffee, its 9 am!" I say hailing a taxi with my phone pressed to my ear. The plummeting rain pounds against the concrete below my feet and I pull my coat in tighter.

"Everything you'll need for Paris has boarded the jet so just get yourself here and we'll all meet you on the flight strip." Melody says back at me. A few months ago, right around the time 'Pond' premiered I signed with a new management. The moment I walked into the board room and met with Melody Stringerr I knew I was about to embark on an entirely new era of my career.

I jump in the cab and take my now saturated coat off, flipping my hair over my shoulder as I do.

"LAX airport!" I say as the driver takes off a little too hard, causing the dark coffee to spill onto my white blouse.

"Shit..." I look down and pat at the blouse. The driver scoffs at me and I give him a look of disgust. I'm not one for labels, but this is a Gucci blouse.

We pull up to the airport and I hand the driver a couple notes.

"Keep the change! Thanks for the lift." I say as I climb out of the cab and put my coat back on. I walk to the gates and sign my card to the lady letting her know I'm here for the private jet. I walk followed by security as black cameras flash at me. I cover my face with one hand, the other fastened at my coat, hoping no one sees my stained blouse.

As we approach the jet I look up to see Melody who stands with her dark sunglasses on with a black umbrella above her waiting for me looking confident and intimidating as ever, Damon and Emma who appear to be arguing over something and Mary my publicist tapping at her phone as she boards the jet. I look to Melody and see she's wearing a dark blue pantsuit, her long black curls falling over her shoulders, her lip arched up slightly.

"You could have gotten on without me, I wouldn't have minded." I say as I approach her.

"Je voulais attendre. C'est votre premiere fois a Paris!" She says ushering me onto the jet.

"Pardon my French, mademoiselle but what did you say?" I ask laughing at her French accent, Melody is an LA woman deep to her core so her French accent was like what you'd see in those overly dramatic sit coms.

"I said I wanted to wait. It's your first time to Paris!" She says as we take a seat on the jet across from one another.

"Wow." I say as I look around the jet, feeling my mouth drop. The exterior of the jet was a beautiful matte back but the interior of it looks stunning. The grey seats with red lining looks like its straight from a Bond movie. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, so I take it in my hand and press the on button.

9.47am:

James: You will adore Paris; the art and culture will give you a new perspective of life. Don't forget to gorge on choc filled croissants for me! Have a safe flight. X

I look at my phone and smile down at the glow. Over the last few months James and I have become very close friends, spending time together when we can, rehearsing lines together. He's shown me incredible places around LA from secret cafes to the best thrift stores in town. Turns out James has the eye for a vintage tee when he sees one.

Tilly: I'll be sure to update you on my adventures. X

******

The smell of peonies and sweet coffee overpower my nose as I breathe in the warmth of the Parisian summer. The plane ride here wasn't half bad because I mostly slept the entire way there other than a few times I woke up to Damon and Emma arguing. It's funny how much they argue but I know they're the best of friends, even if they don't stop bitching. The bottom of my heeled ankle boots makes clinking noises as they tap against the cobblestoned roads. Earlier today I finished my meetings and decided to take the afternoon to adventure around the streets of Paris. I took a detour down the 8th avenue and found myself strolling on a street surrounded by colourful shops with white wooden boxes hanging from the windows of buildings with flowers of various pinks, yellows and purples pouring out from the sides. The aroma of pastries waft through the street making my mouth salivate, despite the fact I had lunch only an hour ago. Two young girls with school uniforms altered to fit their personalities walk out the of a bakery holding cakes boxed in white cardboard and it makes me delirious to the fact my name is being called out from behind me. I turn around and see a young boy and his Dad walking up to me.