ok...so its been a year and im so sorry. i really didnt expect that. 2014 has been a kicker to my sanity, class president, i started a new sport at my school, homecoming chairman, and a surprising honor as the Sadie Hawkins Princess. it makes for a whirlwind of a busy life but i must say that it has been hands-down the best year of my life;so i regret nothing besides not keeping up on my writing. the newer glee seasons have done nothing for any kind of inspiration if you know what i mean…
so! i am going to TRY and do as much writing as i possibly can considering the responsibilities that i carried into the new year. CHEERS TO THE NEW YEARS! please review, i love them.
-V
August, 2012
Two months really isn't enough for a seventeen year old to adjust to living alone in New York City- alone being the key word. It certainly has been amazing; the city life is right where I belong and it always has something new to offer me every day. However, a large chunk of my experience is lost when there is no one to share it with, in a romantic relationship or a platonic one.
I'm not saying that I expected to get a boyfriend in the two months I've been here. That'd be ridiculous considering how much time that solely moving furniture takes. My fathers shipped all the furniture and bedding that was in my room, plus some coffee tables from Ikea that they couldn't resist spoiling their daughter with.
It was almost embarrassing how pathetic I had looked lugging my queen sized mattress into an elevator the size of a bookshelf. At the same time, I felt a sense of pride. There were a few moments when I was struggling with my larger objects or passing by the groups of people on the sidewalk between the truck and the apartment complex that I felt utterly satisfied at just being there that I felt like I could burst with joy. Those moments only lasted about four seconds before I looked back to the moving truck, still about half full.
Once everything was safely in apartment number 3F, with only the small yellowish futon in its correct spot, I felt an overwhelming feeling of confusion. The small living quarters strewn with unpacked boxes made me feel suffocated and lonely. Only more things to do all by myself. Almost immediately after that thought I had sprung off the couch and grabbed my keys with no destination in mind.
Just being outside amongst crowds of people on the sidewalk did wonders for my anxious behavior. I remember that day very well, that feeling that no one around you knew who you actually were, it was very present. It made me feel an abundance of emotions; relief that no one had any expectations besides myself, very confused as to what I should be doing next, very lost in a city with a million people in it, and loneliness.
Since I had no idea what to do with these feelings, I walked until they faded away from my sight.
This same routine went on for two months, minus the unpacked boxes (I put those away after about a week.) until now. August. I still went on a long walk every day, but the feelings did go away, contrary to the fear I had of them only getting worse. I'm very content with my life.
Aside from that, my life did take a small turn when I was awakened by a text alert from my dad Hiram. I didn't often get texts, as they were only from my dads and we were all living very different lives now. I had never responded from any texts from my friends; Kurt, Blaine, and Finn had been too difficult to respond to as I had no idea what to possibly say. So I didn't. I'm fine with that. They were all anchors anyway, I can see that now.
I rolled over and grabbed my phone from the bedside table next to me.
Hey honey vegan-buns! I hope you're having a wonderful week. I know your classes don't start until Sep. 15, and I know there isn't much to do. Maybe you should get a job? Something to occupy your time and help with rent and tuition? Just something to think about. Love you! -The best father ever
Oh. Ok. I guess it's just fine that I could be wasting precious time put aside for vocal maitenance so I could work for the betterment of society. Fine. That'll give me an adventure today.
I do have one condition to my future occupation. I must sing. It is the only way I will flourish in the public waters of New York.
I forego the option of internet databases to look for a place I could work. During my walks I know every inch of space spanning within five square miles of my apartment. I know the perfect place. I never go inside very often because, hey, I'm a seventeen year old in New York City. I don't have money to blow on food at an overpriced establishment.
Although I've never had a job, I know I should always be dressing for success. In order to achieve success, one must elude an image of it at all times. That's why I refuse to wear the sweaters from high school I still keep in my closet, and slip on one of the more mature outfits I bought here, fitting a completely different persona.
I leave the apartment wearing slim leggings with black pumps and a white camisole and a black leather blazer. It definitely isn't what I feel comfortable in, but I need it to work my audience.
There's this place about a mile and a half from my abode, but I take a cab because of the shoes I'm wearing.
I only make him drive me about three fourths of the way there because I still like to walk and save money. When I finally get there, and by there I mean The Bar. This place is actually called The Bar. I found it beautiful in its simplicity. The hostess at the front door introduces herself as Nadia and asks me if I'm here for a table of one.
"No, actually I'm looking for a job. You fine people wouldn't be hiring would you?" I ask with my best show smile I could muster. I like to make every aspect of my life into a greatly schemed acting exercise. Keeps the pipes flowing smoothly.
"Yes, actually we are," she begins as she reaches down in the hostesses podium and pulls out an application. "Just fill this out and bring it back when you're done. It shouldn't take long. And since it's two in the afternoon on a Saturday, we aren't very busy. I bet I can get you a slot with the manager after you're done."
I grab it from her hands and sit down in one of the surrounding waiting chairs to fill out my application.
Any experience? Duh, national champion. Days available? Every day, as long as it's part time. I'm not cut out for a working lifestyle. Any particular position? Obviously, the singing kind. The rest of the information was stupid and asking if I was born in the United States and stuff.
Nadia was gone when I finished, so I just sat there humming to myself until she came from the back, where I assumed the manager's office was.
"All done?" she asked, and I nodded as she gestured for me to hold onto it and follow her. I was brought back to a dingy office that was decorated terribly and was very bland to stand in. It made me feel sad for its occupant, who was sitting in a nice office chair across a wooden desk that was chipping away on the sides. Nadia pulled out a chair for me and left me alone with the good looking guy in the chair. He was older, definitely in his forties, but good looking.
"Hi, my name's Jeffery. I'm glad I already have some takers for a job; I just had to fire someone yesterday. What's your name?" Jeffery asked in a rushed voice with a thick New York accent.
Fired? That actually happens? I shook from my stupor to answer the man's question. "Rachel Barbra Berry, sir."
"Alright, Rachel. You mind handin' me that application so I can take a look?" I slip it across his desk and he skims over it quickly, stopping on a few questions. "It says here you're 17?" I nod, and he looks back down to glance at a different question. "When asked what kind of experience you have, you said 'national champion in show choir'. So you can sing?" Again, I nod and slightly smile to appear humble. "...And you also want the...singing position. I'm afraid I can't legally give you that position as you're 17 years old, which means you're a minor and you can't serve alcohol. But as everything on here checks out, and we're short on staff, I can give you the hostess? It only p-"
"Jeffery, sir, as much as much I would love to work here, I simply must sing. I need to in order to live. It's my only condition. A-And, I haven't had a drop of alcohol in my life!" I lie, remembering the alcohol awareness week at McKinley. "I can handle the waitressing position, I can promise you."
I'd like to think it's my amazing acting skills and convincing stare boring into his face that makes him break. But, he says otherwise. "...Okay! you got me, you really did. You got the fire girl. Show me some pipes and you've got me sold."
My smile couldn't be larger as I rack through my mental repertoire looking for the perfect song to sing that would show him that I could be the best damned singing waitress that the world has ever seen.
"I let it fall, my heart, and as it fell, you rose to claim it. It was dark and I wa-"
"Yep! fantastic. It's great. You can start tomorrow. Wear something," he gestures him arms around in a circle wildy, "spicy."
My mouth is just hanging open. I can't believe he interrupted my song! That's serious talent that he isn't cherishing! "Sir! Don't you wanna hear the rest of that song? I practiced it for months in my bedroom, I worked very hard on expre-"
"Yea honey I'm sure it was great. You can go now. Congrats, and all that good stuff. I'll make you a nametag and fit you for an actual uniform tomorrow."
He totally blew me off. He hired me, but god almighty he blew me off!
Well, he certainly won't be doing that again.
I walk briskly back to the front of the restaurant where Nadia is still at her podium. "Did'ya get it?" she asks while I'm walking.
"Yes," I say while I'm still speed walking at a furious pace towards the door.
"Oh, well, congratulations!" she yells out the door I'm passing through but it closed just in time to cut her off.
It took me a few blocks before I finally cooled down, realizing that the next day I can't just go into my workplace and yell at my new boss about giving a performer their full attention. Oh my god. My new job! I have a job where I get to sing and a boss that seems nice, but oblivious to proper etiquette, and a co-worker named Nadia! It's like a dream come true!
1 month later.
It's official. I hate my job.
No one seems to appreciate the talent I possess. Most of my co-workers despise me for stealing their spotlight. But really, that isn't my fault. I've tried to tell them multiple times that if they would just put in a little practice and vocal lessons from yours truly, maybe they wouldn't suck so bad in comparison to myself. Perhaps maybe I shouldn't have worded that so harshly, but it got the point across.
My ignorant boss, Jeffery, continues to only praise me upon my friendly demeanor towards customers instead of my future stardom.
They have me working nights in my ridiculous uniform, which involves a black corset and heels. Both are tremendously uncomfortable. The worst part of the night shift is the people that come in to watch me and my fellow staff members prance around in our little skin tight, painful, and degrading chains of horror. They like to leer, which makes me feel cheap; I am most certainly not cheap. Some of it is overshadowed by their tips. Always large and appreciated.
Sometimes, though, there are nice people that come in and applaud loudly for the waitresses performing on the bar counter. They make me feel like a star.
Right now is one of those sometimes. Me, along with some other waitresses, Dagny, Jessica, and Hayley, are performing a rendition of Die Young by the infamous Kesha.I would say I'm doing fantastic, but I can't say the same for the women singing along side of me.
There's this girl, not a girl, but a woman sitting in my section watching my every move. I make sure to perform extra well after I take note of her. I like to do that for a good audience member. Then she scrambles towards her phone and takes her wide eyes off of me. Apparently whatever business there is on that slab of glass in her hand is more important than I. Angrily, I stop looking at her for the rest of the song, belting out as many high notes as possible in order to catch her attention without getting directly in her face, begging for attention.
When the song is over I hop off the counter and grab the pen and order sheets out of the servers' station cabinet, walking towards the woman in my section that is obsessed with her phone.
She's sitting alone at her table and for some reason I take pleasure in that, knowing that she has no friends to spend time with during dinner.
"Hello," I say in my most sickeningly sweet tone of voice, "are you ready to order or are you waiting on the rest of your party?"
She squints and seems to catch on to the sarcasm in my tone.
"No, just me. I'm not ready to order though. I was too busy watching your performance."
Liar! "Well, clearly not, as you were glued to your phone for half of it." I really don't know why I'm being so rude. Maybe it's that she was the only person all night that made me feel like I was living for something and then she trampled all over it.
"Maybe your panties wouldn't be in such a knot if you knew that I was video taping you," she says calmly.
"Excuse me, I-what?" Dear god she better not be a talent scout or else my chances are ruined.
"Jackie Monroe," she sticks her hand out for a handshake. "Why don't you take a seat." Jackie gestures her hands towards the booth seat across from her.
Anyone who took that much interest in me deserves my attention, so I sit, not exactly worrying about Jeffery catching me sitting on the job.
I take a few seconds to inspect my admirer. Jackie has a healthy body, not skinny or overweight. She seemed to be about twenty five years old. She's dressed casually, in a brown tank top and a black cardigan with blue jeans. Her face was pretty, with light blue eyes that looked like ice and slightly heavy makeup with dark brown hair.
"So I take it that you don't exactly enjoy working here." I shake my head. "You feel underappreciated." I nod. "Ok, it's very clear that you've got pipes. What else can you do?"
"I know how to kidnap a child from a heavily secured home and sell said child to work in slave labor."
Jackie's eyes went wide. "Oh."
I smile and look down while clasping my thumb and fingers together in a pinch. "Scene."
"Oh wow. You're good. I like you. Very spunky. So you can act as well. Can you dance?" she's smiling like she hit the jackpot, and I'm hoping that she knows she has with me.
"I won my first dancing competition when I was three months old."
The brunette across from her smiled showing no teeth and took a sip of her water through the straw. "Glorious."
"I guess you could call me a triple threat, I mean-"
"Alright don't get too cocky. Doesn't look good on anyone. But knowing that you hate your job, how would you feel having a manager?"
"A manger? Are you being serious? I only applied for this job so I could work on my acting skills and have some extra cash. What you're asking me is like a dream come true. It's a yes. Yes, definitely. I can quit right now. God, you have no idea how much I can't stand it here."
"No problem…"
"Rachel Barbra Berry," I introduce myself.
"No problem, Rachel Berry. I can make everything better."