3rd Person

If life is a movie, Tessa Banner has always been the star of the show. In her own mind of course; to everyone else she's just girl number three. She's never been exceptionally good at anything really; she's moderately good at most sports, just well enough to get on the team. Theatre wasn't her strength, but she always manages to do well enough to get a supporting role. Grades were okay, a perfect B average. After she had never excelled at anything, she just gave up on herself. She decided she would go to college, get an average education. Get an average job, and then continue her average life. But her Dad had other plans for her.

It was a sunny afternoon in New York when her father put her on the last plane to L.A. First class, just like always. Tessa would never admit that she wasn't clear on his intentions. She wasn't clear on if he even loved her. Fashion had been her mother's industry, when she ran off with her Egyptian prince that was all she had left behind for them. She hated how she looked, because she looked like the younger version of her mother. Her high but soft cheekbones and big brown eyes; Her long dark hair that fell to the small of her back and her caramel colored skin reminded her of the deceit and lies. The things that constantly reminded her of the hurt she had caused her every single day. And when everything was over, there was no one left to pick the pieces up. Because t hurt too much to even try to pick them up herself.

She wondered if her Father noticed that she had taken out all the mirrors in their home. Of course he wasn't around to even notice. She wished she had gained something from his appearance. He was tall, a mop of bleach blond hair and deep blue eyes. He still looked like he was twenty instead of thirty-eight. But it just hurt to look at him. It was like a knife in the back, because it was a constant reminder that she looked like her mother. Like the woman who ran off, not caring about her family. She saw in her Father's eyes that he was still madly in love with her.

"Be careful, L.A's a big city. Your trust fund has about as much as there was two months ago." She knew that was code for two million. Weeks meant thousands, and days meant hundreds. They had never really needed to go below that amount; the reference for days was just a casualty. A safety net of sorts. He wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders. His hug burned. It felt awkward and stiff and when she looked into his eyes she couldn't see any love. And that was all she needed to keep her from crying. When you felt this empty, it was hard to feel anything really.

"And this is the studio." Her face hurt from having pulled it into a big smile all day. She was a pro and acting like she was alright when she wasn't. She was great at it, after all the press hadn't exactly left them alone when her mother disappeared off of the face of the planet. At that point in time she had to act like she was alright, even if she wasn't. Even if she was slowly killing herself every time she smiled. "And those are the boys who sing in the studio, who shouldn't be here." Kelly pulled her mouth into a tight smile. But jerked her head to the door roughly, she was signaling for them to get out. The boys were average looking. Nothing special really, she didn't understand why they were so popular. But it turns out she didn't understand a lot of things lately.

"The Dogs will practice with or without another stylist coming in to change up their horrendous appearance." Kelly was about to speak, but something inside of her just seemed to snap. She had not gone through an awkward hug and another stab in the heart for some overweight, mean, un-stylish, no talented hack to have her wait even a second.

"Hi I'm from Zachery Morgan." He seemed to sit straighter at that. But she didn't have his undivided attention yet. No it would take one more blow until she had sealed his humiliation.

"An intern?" He asked, at this point she wanted to smack him. Hard.

"No Zachery Morgan's daughter." That had gotten all of his attention, and apparently everyone's in the room. Kelly looked like she was just too tired to care, like if they had done what she had said none of this would have happened. And perhaps she was right, if Gustavo had just had them out in the dressing room like he was supposed to. Perhaps Tessa wouldn't have snapped so easily. But she would have snapped at some point.

"Now Mr. Roque-" She meant no respect, and it was evident through her tone. "-You realize time is money, and I'm only here for one night. So get those-" She glanced at the four boys, each looking like they didn't know what to do, what to say more importantly. "-Whatever's, to the dressing room now." And with that she walked coldly out of the room.

Her hands were shaking as he pulled the straightener through the boy's hair. The first shock of the night was that the dressing room was full of mirrors. It was possibly the first time she had seen her appearance in about three months. Her hair had grown out, she noticed. Her skin was still clear. You didn't need a mirror to notice small blemishes on your skin and promptly remove them apparently. She took a deep breath and tore her eyes away from the image. Only to realize her second challenge was putting the outfits together. Her father had sent the clothes just not which piece went with which. She knew she had to put them together quickly. Her Father was probably half way over to Paris, there was no time for phone calls. No time to do anything except do her best to put something decent together.

She always found it odd that these artists wore so much make-up. But it was even harder to do her job when there was a mirror and she could see her reflection from the corner of her eye. She had the boy turn his chair around so she wasn't looking directly into the mirror every time she looked up. His hair was short and could be quickly finished. He was the last out of the four, and definitely the loudest breather. She could practically hear his heart beat.

"Ow!" He winced in pain, as she quickly but carefully pulled the straightener away from his scalp. She knew firsthand what the white hot smack of pain felt like all too well.

"Sorry!" She whispered, setting the straightener down on the small table that was cluttered with various products. She examined his scalp, before lightly blowing on the red spot. Kendall raised an eyebrow but he didn't say a single word. "It always made me feel better when someone did that to me." She told him, her voice was calm and collected. But he could notice the small unsteady beat underneath it.

"Are you staying to see us perform?" She shook her head. Her hair making a small swish as she did; he didn't know what else to say. So he figured he would just keep his mouth shut until she said something.

"How did you know you were good at this sort of thing?" She finally asked, breaking the un-comfortable silence. It took him several seconds to find his tongue and another several to put it in gear.

"Well, it was a big mistake really." The next thirty minutes that was all they talked about. Kendall's story to fame. How he got discovered. When he left the room he left feeling strangely full. Like she had just put everything into perspective for him. But he still felt like he knew absolutely nothing about her. And he wanted too. But when he went back there after the concert, she wasn't there. She was gone.

The next morning Tessa was not awoken by the sound of her alarm clock, but by the sweet melody of her phone. She rolled over and picked it up pressing buttons without even reading the collar ID.

"Hello?" Her voice was rough, and groggy.

"Hey Darling, I have to talk to you about something very important…" She knew immediately that she was screwed.

What is it going to take for you guys to review? because im willing to get on my knee's and beg. it;s not that i care about the reviews, i just care that someone's reading my story. I'm not exagerating when i say reviews make my day. i know im not a good writer, and i know i peaked way too soon. i just want to know if maybe im wrong about both of those.

-Simz1990