Alright! Chapter three! If you haven't noticed, I'm going in a switching POV style. Enjoy! Oh and you people who are faving but not reviewing, you're making me sad. Yes, I know who you areā¦
Playlist suggestion: "The Show" By Lenka.
http : / / www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=M_-qbbCsAeM
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. And if I could, wouldn't some else want to too? See? It's an unfair world. It goes on and on and on...
CHAPTER 3: This Absolutely, Positively...Blows
AlicePOV
"You sure that's all you can tell me?" I ask this lifeless guy I've been interviewing for the past five, slow, dreadful minutes. Seriously. This man is wasting my time with these one word answers. I would go to someone else, but you'd be surprised with the small amount of hot dog vendors around here. I snap my fingers and try to get his attention, and the man scoffs and waves his hands in some unknown gesture, I'm guessing is a motion of trying to shoo me away.
"Yeah," He answers, and goes back to filling up some bucket of muck. I grimace and thank him anyway, leaving with nothing but a photo. Ugh.
Why can't people cooperate? I could have finished by now, but no, some just like to give me a hard time. I mean, is it fun to mess with me? 'Hey, let's all mess with the short girl!' Pfft.
I run over to another stand, eager to find the owner and get back to my desk. I see the line is super long, and I'm not waiting in the back to get a damn quote. So you do what all short, cute people like myself do. You jump spots and sneak to the front.
"Excuse me!" I screech, trying to catch the vendor's attention. He seems to ignore me, so I clear my throat. "Excuse me!" I waved my hand in front of his face, so he wouldn't miss me. Though, my eyes only make it to the top of the stand. This is embarrassing.
"What do you want?" He asks, giving a bag of chips to one of his customers. The next person in line scowls at me when I stand in the front.
"I need you to answer a couple questions, Mr..."
"Harry." When I make a face, he corrects himself "Harry. Yea, well I don't have time. Are you buying anything?" He asked, and growls when customers start to walk away.
"I'll buy something when you answer the questions." I take my blackberry out and turn on the recorder setting. Slowly, I lift an eyebrow and bring my phone closer to his face. "Please?"
"Alright. Fine. Whaddaya wanna know?" He grumbled when another impatient customer went to find lunch elsewhere. I smiled hoping to improve his mood, and jump right into question. Apparently, he doesn't find anything to smile about.
"Are you alright with your current location?"
"At the moment? Pfft. Hell No." He started washing some small window with an unknown clothe of some sort. "It sucks. Bad. What am I doing this for, again?"
I ignore his question. "Why?"
"Well, I happen to have a stand near some very common restaurants. You know what I mean? Sometimes, I think they placed me here on purpose. You can't sell hotdogs when you're competing with McDonalds!" He gave an amused snort. "You can't sell anything but chips."
I nod. "It's not even a competition. Micky D's wins." I won't lie. Sometimes I crave a fat, calorie rich, and fattening burger than a mangy hotdog. But I daren't say a thing.
"You get me! I can't stand it! This isn't New York! This is Philly. You're told where you can sell, and that's that. It's unfair." The man gave a bottle of soda to a customer who handed him a couple of dollars, and a quiet 'thanks'.
"One more question...what would you liked to be changed when it comes to these vendor rights?" I asked, and quickly snap a picture of him, after quickly jotting down his name on my pad.
"Really? Those kinds of things don't matter to me. I try to go where the customers go. And if I could change anything, it would be taking down all these fast food places. Then again, I'll be asking for way too much for anyone who'd be able to make that difference. Are you buying anything?"
With a sigh, I muster up a smile. "I'll take some chips."
When I got back to office, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I was indeed, five minutes early. Smiling at James' scowl when I emailed him the pictures and the quotes, I sat back in my chair.
When the day started to go by a bit too quickly, I started on some new project James had me working on and having casual convos with Bella.
Eventually, the sky started to grow a bit dark, and most of the employees started to pack up and go, others stay all night pulling at their hair to try an reach their deadline. Instead of talking or napping or even doing something that I was there to do -working- I decided the better thing to do would be to relax. I mean, I had a good day! I got the quotes and the pictures in the little time he gave me. That deserved some celebration. Smiling wide, I fiddled with my camera.
How can someone express their undying love for something as innocent and sweet as the world's greatest camera? I named it several times, but in the end, I could label this beautiful electronic creature with some random name out of a baby book. It's a Nikon D60, not one of the newest, but indeed, beautiful. I sighed in content when I turned it on, being greeted by a white screen, then quickly messed around with the focus ring and zoom. I start to tweaking with the flash and composition settings, until I find the new settings just right. When I start to really get into it, I jump when Eric pops up and taps me on the shoulder. Knowing how easy it is for someone to scare me, I jumped and yelped, swinging my hands in attempt to get anyone or anything away...until I realized it really was Eric.
Don't judge me! He came out of nowhere!
"Jeez, girl, seems like I'll give you a heart attack at twenty-four." He laughed when I punched him and put my camera down. I almost dropped the poor thing.
It's okay. I'll never let anyone drop you.
"What do you want, Eric?" I ask, noticing he had his coat on, all snug neat and ready to go and have a life.
"Angela and I are gonna go to the Phillies' game tonight. There's room for one more..." He trails off when he sees me yawn, and notices my sleepy eyes. "...well forget about that. Why don't you tell us who wins like you always do?"
"I do not." I humph, and pull my jacket off the back of my chair, and took out my cell phone. I always forget about this thing, though it has my entire schedule and contacts. This just shows how much I can't stand technology.
"You do too, and you're always right." He smiles and hands me a piece of gum.
"I am not!" I say, and stuff the piece into my mouth. "I'm not!"
"You are, so you better help me win some money, or I'm taking a chunk off your salary." He picks up my bag for me, and takes my camera out my hand. "I'll give you a ride. You should really come with us."
"Nah, I'm fine. How would my lovely bike get home? And besides, Victoria and Jimmy might be there for her little promotion date; I wouldn't want to meet them there."
Eric scowls. "Whore."
Unable to help it, I give a struggled giggle. "I wouldn't say that just yet. But we'll see..." I take my camera and bag back. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm really tired, and I'm not up for a night out."
Eric does some sort of whine and pulls at my jacket like a toddler begging for sweets. "But you haven't been out in like, forever!"
"You're telling me," I say, and kiss him on the cheek goodnight. I wave at Angela, who waves back and throws her arm around Eric while they leave, laughing.
"Eric!" He turns, lifts his brow. "Phillies'll win."
I got off my bike, hooked it back onto the rack and started up the steps past the book store into my apartment. I snatched my key out and open and closed the door quickly. I don't really have a reason for that, I just do it.
I switch on a couple of lights, smiling when the familiar scent of my place set in. Throwing my jacket onto the floor, promising myself I'll pick it up later, I slopped down onto the sofa with a content sigh and a sluggish brain. Home.
When I slip off my shoes and flick the across the room and start to doze, I barely hear my answering machine goes off. Matter of fact, I didn't even hear the phone go off. The machine happens to be in my room, and I lay sleepily on the sofa, unable to move my muscles.
"Hi! You've reach Mary-Alice Brandon! Unfortunately, I'm not here at the moment, but probably messin' with my camera. Just, leave a message after the beep, and I'll get back to you!"
Beeeeeeeep.
"Hey Ally! It's Edward. I might give you a surprise visit! Uh...Just wanted to know...how're things going? I really wanted to talk to you. Pick up?"
It took a moment to get my foggy mind to wake up, and realize that that's my big brother. I hurried to my room, just a few feet away, and grabbed at the phone, hoping to get it before-
Beeeeeeeep.
Damn.
Now awake again, I switched on my super tiny television (That I love regardless) and walked into my two inch long kitchen in hope of finding food. I have plenty of unorganized cabinets and drawers. There must be something.
Ten minutes later and no luck. All I found was mustard and ketchup, old bread and peanuts. I doubt the world's greatest chef could make a satisfying meal out of that.
Nothing was on TV except lousy shows about romance. Gorgeous people only marry gorgeous people. So us uglies are left with the other unattractive people. They breed and make other ygly children, and so on and so on...you get the picture.
Forget romance. It depresses me.
I relocked all my doors, secured my windows and went into my bathroom for a quick shower. When the cool water pounded on my head in the most relaxing way, I started to doze off again and hopped out to finally go to bed.
On my way to it, I sat in my 'sit-in' window, where I usually like to write. It's quiet, peaceful, has a sweet view of the street, a couple of the city buildings and the dark sky, where just a few people walked back and forth. I slipped between my thin sheets, snuggling Shelby.
Then I went to sleep.
Another morning, another day of work, another evening to make me suffer. I got up, suddenly determined to make today, actually enjoyable. No more depressing activities.
Getting dressed quickly, in yellow sleeveless turtleneck with brown pants, I decided today would be a good day to wear my snug, leather jacket. Grabbing my purse, that oddly had a bag of chips in it, I was on my way to work. No threatening phone calls, just quiet. I actually like Wednesdays. Officially.
When I get to work and wake at Demetri like I usually do, I calmly walk off the elevator without interruptions. I walk to my small desk without a scowl from Victoria. I relax in my chair without Eric pressing for information. I tap on my laptop in complete silence. But I know that won't last, because in three...two...one...
"Alice!" James calls. "Come here! Hurry!"
I run into his small office, where he was arranging pictures on his desk. "Yes?"
"Kate Rowan in here." He doesn't look up from his desk. He doesn't say anything, actually.
I shift from foot to foot, thinking eventually, he'll say something else. "...so?"
"So," He mocks my high pitched voice " I need you to get up, and move along so you can snap a few pics and get it in the paper." He stands up, and looks out his window dramatically. "Just like, paparazzi."
"I am not paparazzi."
"Well, I'm paying you to be."
"You're paying me extra?" I say it excitedly, hopping up and down just a bit.
James gives an amused snort. He stands and pats my head. Asshole. "Of course not. I just need you to go down, follow Kate around Philadelphia, and hey, if you can talk to her, do it. We're a local paper. Our readers could really use a little entertainment. God knows you're not doing anything about that."
I sigh. There's no way of looking past this. He's made up his mind. "Where is she?"
"Some where near third. But you can find her. You've always been good at guessing." He shoos me out of his office, and I walk to my desk and grab all of my stuff like clockwork. Sometimes, I feel as if I'm more on the field than actually in this building.
Strolling outside, again, I strapped my camera on securely as I got on my bike. Kate Rowan was a serious movie star. She surpassed Angelina Jolie maybe a year back when some crazy action movie came out and sold millions. All those cute little young kids in movies about vampires look third world compared to Kate. How can a woman be that important to people? I hate celebrities. Officially.
Third Street wasn't at all far from here, and I doubt anyone would know Kate Rowan was here. I mean, who spends their life following around over-praised celebs that get paid millions for crying in front of a camera?
Plenty, apparently.
At first, I saw her strawberry blonde hair, sunglasses, and a fast stride. And in a matter of seconds, and not to long after, a good group of sneaky people following her like dogs in black hoodies with cameras. Paparazzi. Real legitimate, paparazzi. Who were all getting the shots as she tried her best to sneak away and show her disinterest. All of them took all the available sneak spots and I was left in the dust, standing with my camera.
Damn.
How to get to her now?
The group of people stayed together. That's obviously not a good way to get to her, especially if you want to talk. But what do I know? I don't stalk for an income. I snuck around the corner, thinking if I were her, I'd go through thin but well-lit ally, and over to another stalkerless street.
I crept over until I saw her. Kate looked and was satisfied when she didn't spot any other weirdos. I saw her first, and gave her a tentative wave. She looked up and noticed my camera, and retreated the other way. I couldn't see her eyes past her glasses, but she was, indeed, a very beautiful woman, but not as glamorous as they make her on television. I snap a couple of pictures, with a sudden determination to speak to her.
"Hey! Hey, wait!" She jogged down the street, her blonde hair swinging. Hey, this is kinda fun. I ran in pursuit, jogging down the street in attempt to catch my prey.
Again, I quickly turned the corner, not at all seeing the group of followers I saw before, nor did I see Kate.
But I did, actually, see the lukewarm coffee spill all over my yellow blouse, and the heard the click as my camera automatically took a picture, as I ran head first into and extremely tall man with a yelp.
Hard.
Review? I had fun writing this one. I literally played all of this out down town :). I feel really bad for the stranger I ran into on purpose.
...But no, I didn't spill any coffee :)
Don't fret my fanfic friends! The meet is coming in the next chapter!
Pat
Review?
