One_Acrobat
The Fly
Hey everyone! Here's chapter three ... I had some trouble with this chapter so I'm hoping it turned out nicely ...
Many thanks to: sisterinthemoon, LoveandLogic and Rattle&Hum96 for your good advice
Disclaimer: I own the Chinese food and the bottle of Pinot Noir .. the rest is FIC-TION-AL!
When Love Comes to Town – Chapter 3
“Elena?” I looked up from filling out the job application. “Julie is ready to meet with you now.” The front desk receptionist informed me. I squeezed the rosary around my neck for good luck, slowly stood up and followed the assistant down the hallway to Julie Tremblay’s office. I shook with nerves. I never would have thought the interview process would be so stressful.
My future was in this woman’s hands. I took a deep breath, turned the door’s handle and walked into the office.
“Good morning!” I chirped.
“Hello.” She said, not taking her eyes off the photographs in her hands. “Listen I’ve got an important meeting in less than an hour so if we could just cut to the chase, that’d be great.”
“Oh…um of course.” I was a little taken aback. I quickly sat down, not wanting to waste anymore time. Julie finally looked up and held out her hand. Not knowing what to do, I just stared.
“Your portfolio, hun!”
“Oh right!” I swear my lack of intelligence amazed me.
I handed over the large, black book.
Her face didn’t carry much emotion. It was nearly impossible to figure out what she thought of my work.
“Listen kid,” She said after a few minutes. “I’m going to be honest with you. The exposure, the lighting, the tones? Absolutely exquisite. However, photography is about more than perfect technique.” She told me, handing me my portfolio.
“Do you know what your photos are lacking?”
“Umm?” I wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with this.
“Passion.”
“Passion?!” I retorted.
“Okay, anyone could take one look at your work and tell that you’ve had training. But what training doesn’t teach you is to connect with your subject, bring out real emotions and make people feel something.” She explained.
“What does this mean?” By now, I was on the verge of tears.
“Look, my objective here isn’t to be mean. All I’m trying to do is be realistic.” She came over and sat on the corner of her desk.
I wiped away a small tear on my cheek. I hated showing my true emotions. It made me feel too vulnerable.
“Do you want to be an average photographer with amazing technique but not so amazing pictures?” She asked me.
“No, of course not.” I mumbled, avoiding her eyes.
“Right, no one wants that. I could hire you right now but I know that you have so much potential and that you can do so much better” Julie placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“You don’t understand!” I blurted. “This was my last shot. I’ve gone to every major photography company in Montreal. I got turned down every time. I’ll work my ass off I swear but please,” I pleaded. “Please let me have this job.”
“I’m sure you would but I wouldn’t be doing you a favour if I let you work here.” She sighed. “Trust me; this isn’t your last shot. Hell, you’re only 22! This is your first shot! Go out into the world. Go skydiving, travel around the world, fall in love, experience life! Come back in a few months, show me that you’re ready and then, we’ll talk.” She supportively told me.
She escorted me out the door and into the main lobby where the receptionist took down my name and number in case they ever had another job opening.
I pushed open the building’s heavy glass doors and walked down the steps, onto the street. My face rested in the palms of my hands as I leaned back onto the modern, vivid red building. Julie was right. I was 22 and I was this much of a mess? It probably wasn’t healthy to have this many worries. Hell, if I continued, I would probably have a heart attack before the age of 30!
I slid down the wall until I was in a squatting position, brought my arms to my face, and for the first time in years, broke down and cried.
My life was in shambles. I was living off my parents’ money. I had no job and no money. My love life was nonexistent. When the unthinkable had happened and Larry Mullen freakin’ Jr. has asked for my number, I had expected somewhat of a phone call but… nothing. I waited 3 weeks. 3 whole weeks without a single phone call. I was done. I had given up.
“Hello?” I picked up the phone.
“Hi, Elena?” I heard a male voice mumble on the other end.
“I’m sorry but who exactly is this?”
“Oh… Larry! You know… the guy from the bar?” He spoke up.
“Oh, right! Hello Larry.” I answered dryly.
“Listen, I know I had said I’d call you and it’s been 3 weeks but truth is, I
haven’t had any time for myself. The band-”
“Look Larry,” I cut him off. “You can’t say that and instantly expect me to go out with you. You are the drummer of my favourite band but that doesn’t mean that you have the right to not treat me well.” I told him off, pushing my hair out of my face.
“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I’m so sorry.” He urged.
“No, I’m sorry. I’ve been having a bad day and I’m taking it out on you.” I apologized.
“Oh. So I guess tonight wouldn’t be the best time to take you out then?”
“Actually, I’d love to but most of my stuff still isn’t unpacked yet and… well… I’m a mess.” I laughed
“What are your where abouts?”
“I’m at home, why?” I cautiously answered.
“Give me your address.” Larry demanded.
“What why? You’re not actually thinking of coming over are you?”
“Why not?” I could practically see him smile. “We’ll have dinner, unpack a few boxes…” He trailed off. It’ll be nice.”
“Uhhh, if you’re sure” I silently pleaded he would back out. I wasn’t lying when I told him I was a mess. My hair was tangled; I was wearing sweats and a bleach-stained t-shirt and my makeup had run down my cheeks. It wasn’t exactly a nice look.
“I’m sure” He told me determinedly. “I’ll be over at around 7:30. Is that good with you?” He asked.
“Um… sounds great.” I told him. I gave him my address and hung up, practically smashing the phone in the process.
I looked over at the clock my mom had gotten me from Paris. 7:00. 30 minutes. Okay, I could do this. I ran up the stairs, tripping over a few boxes in the process. I ran into my room and jumped onto my unmade bed, looking exasperatedly at the boxes strewn across the floor marked: “Clothes!!” I started pulling things out.
I finally settled on a pair of jeans, a black tank top and an oversized plum coloured cardigan. If I had had more time, I probably would have been able to throw something a lot better together. But considering the circumstances, I thought I looked… decent. I quickly ran into the bathroom and pulled my long, messy hair into a loose chignon on the top of my head, leaving a few wavy strands in the front. I took out my makeup remover and took off the excess makeup that had run down my cheeks. In its place, I applied some plum eye shadow, and a few extra coats of mascara.
I breathed out. This was as good as it was going to get.
“Driiiinnngg” The doorbell sounded throughout the house. Good enough timing.
I briskly walked down the stairs. Not wanting to seem too eager, I waited a moment before throwing open the door.
“Hi!” I exclaimed.
“You seem to be in a much better mood.” Larry told me, stepping into the Victorian townhouse and closing the door behind him.
Damn, he looked good. He wore plain blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket. The whole look was very James Dean. I couldn’t help but blush a little as he lightly kissed me on the cheek.
Larry followed me into the kitchen where I had cleared out a few boxes around the counter and kitchen island.
“Funny, it doesn’t smell like something’s cooking” He smirked
Shit. I had been so preoccupied; I had completely forgotten that I had to prepare a meal.
“Damn it!” I muttered under my breath.
“Don’t worry about it. We could always cook something really quickly before starting on these boxes.”
“Oh you were serious about that.” I laughed. I had been planning to use the ‘unpacking’ as an excuse for him to come over and have a romantic, candle-lit dinner. Though I was extremely hurt that he had waited three weeks to call me back, I was more than willing to give Larry a second chance.
I ran into the kitchen.
“Thing is, I’m not sure if I have anything edible. Well, for dinner anyways.” I told him, frantically searching through my fridge, my pantry and even my freezer.
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. Damn it! My plan to have a romantic dinner couldn’t be accomplished without the dinner part.
“Chinese take out’s always good too.” He suggested, looking over my shoulder at the empty pantry.
“Yeah, I think we’d better go with that. Unless of course, you would rather eat cereal, bread or what appears to be chicken.” I laughed.
The Chinese food arrived in no time. Now, the problem was no longer what we were going to eat but where we were going to eat it. The kitchen table was out of the question considering it was completely covered in boxes. The living room wasn’t much better. Shit. What was I going to do?
Larry must have read my worried expression because he said:
“It’s such a nice day out, a lot warmer than these previous days… why not eat outside?”
“That sounds quite nice, actually.” I smiled, grabbing an unopened bottle of Pinot Noir that sat in a corner on the countertop and two wineglasses from the cupboard.
We climbed the stairs and turned into the master bedroom. I silently cursed myself for forgetting about the mess that was my bedroom.
“Uh sorry about all the ….. clutter” I told him. “I didn’t exactly have time to clean up.”
“S’fine.” He shrugged. “I go on tour with three other guys. This is nothing compared to our tour bus.”
I popped open the latch of the window and carefully pushed it open, revealing a small balcony that held two chairs and table.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
“Perfect.” He smiled, making my heart flutter a little.
I slipped my Converse and leather jacket on, watching Larry climb over the window’s ledge with ease.
He put down the bags and held out his hand, ready to help me if need be. I daintily took it and hopped over the ledge.
I pulled out a chair and sat down. The scenery was beautiful. The balcony over looked the Montreal skyline. Snow covered trees lined the streets and the blinking lights of the office buildings downtown shone brightly in the dark February night sky. I leaned back in my chair. The view was simply breathtaking. The fact that I was sitting here with Larry and a bottle of 1979 Pinot Noir made it all the more romantic.
"Wow!” Larry breathed out.
I knew exactly how he felt. This view was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was special and it was magical. Maybe it was Larry’s presence that made it different but whenever I had previously looked out the window, I had never seen what I was seeing now. I guess I had been looking but I hadn’t actually been seeing.
“You know,” Larry said, turning towards me. The tips of his ears were red from the cold. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you this earlier but I, I think…. Umm… that you look really beautiful tonight.” He stuttered. Larry’s cheeks were turning as red as his ears and it was hard to hold back a giggle.
“Thanks you.” I smiled. I couldn’t believe that at 22 years old, boys still managed to make my heart race.
Maybe it wasn’t just boys; maybe it was one boy in particular. I had never had a lot of boys fawning over me. Boys had never made my heart race or my palms sweaty even though it was only 14 degrees Fahrenheit. Larry was different. Larry was special.
I popped the cork off the glass bottle and poured myself and Larry a glass.
“To new beginnings!” I toasted, raising my glass.
“To new beginnings.” He repeated, doing the same.
We clinked glasses.
I looked over at Larry. His blue eyes were looking out at the sky, confused.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah. Just thinking about some of the drum patterns for some new songs the guys and I are working on.” He answered with a small smile. “Being a drummer’s hard”
“Well being a photographer isn’t much better.” I sighed
“I take it the interviews didn’t go well?”
“That would be an understatement. Apparently I lack passion.” I dramatically rolled my eyes, letting out a huge sigh.
I was suddenly very aware of Larry leaning into me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and his arm on the small of my back. I turned my head and looked into his eyes, my head tilted and slowly moving towards his. Our lips met. It very light and only lasted a moment but it was amazing. I felt as though bolts of electricity were running through my entire body.
“I don’t think you lack passion.”
There it is ....
?
? Do you want me to continue posting?
Many thanks to: sisterinthemoon, LoveandLogic and Rattle&Hum96 for your good advice
Disclaimer: I own the Chinese food and the bottle of Pinot Noir .. the rest is FIC-TION-AL!
When Love Comes to Town – Chapter 3
“Elena?” I looked up from filling out the job application. “Julie is ready to meet with you now.” The front desk receptionist informed me. I squeezed the rosary around my neck for good luck, slowly stood up and followed the assistant down the hallway to Julie Tremblay’s office. I shook with nerves. I never would have thought the interview process would be so stressful.
My future was in this woman’s hands. I took a deep breath, turned the door’s handle and walked into the office.
“Good morning!” I chirped.
“Hello.” She said, not taking her eyes off the photographs in her hands. “Listen I’ve got an important meeting in less than an hour so if we could just cut to the chase, that’d be great.”
“Oh…um of course.” I was a little taken aback. I quickly sat down, not wanting to waste anymore time. Julie finally looked up and held out her hand. Not knowing what to do, I just stared.
“Your portfolio, hun!”
“Oh right!” I swear my lack of intelligence amazed me.
I handed over the large, black book.
Her face didn’t carry much emotion. It was nearly impossible to figure out what she thought of my work.
“Listen kid,” She said after a few minutes. “I’m going to be honest with you. The exposure, the lighting, the tones? Absolutely exquisite. However, photography is about more than perfect technique.” She told me, handing me my portfolio.
“Do you know what your photos are lacking?”
“Umm?” I wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with this.
“Passion.”
“Passion?!” I retorted.
“Okay, anyone could take one look at your work and tell that you’ve had training. But what training doesn’t teach you is to connect with your subject, bring out real emotions and make people feel something.” She explained.
“What does this mean?” By now, I was on the verge of tears.
“Look, my objective here isn’t to be mean. All I’m trying to do is be realistic.” She came over and sat on the corner of her desk.
I wiped away a small tear on my cheek. I hated showing my true emotions. It made me feel too vulnerable.
“Do you want to be an average photographer with amazing technique but not so amazing pictures?” She asked me.
“No, of course not.” I mumbled, avoiding her eyes.
“Right, no one wants that. I could hire you right now but I know that you have so much potential and that you can do so much better” Julie placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“You don’t understand!” I blurted. “This was my last shot. I’ve gone to every major photography company in Montreal. I got turned down every time. I’ll work my ass off I swear but please,” I pleaded. “Please let me have this job.”
“I’m sure you would but I wouldn’t be doing you a favour if I let you work here.” She sighed. “Trust me; this isn’t your last shot. Hell, you’re only 22! This is your first shot! Go out into the world. Go skydiving, travel around the world, fall in love, experience life! Come back in a few months, show me that you’re ready and then, we’ll talk.” She supportively told me.
She escorted me out the door and into the main lobby where the receptionist took down my name and number in case they ever had another job opening.
I pushed open the building’s heavy glass doors and walked down the steps, onto the street. My face rested in the palms of my hands as I leaned back onto the modern, vivid red building. Julie was right. I was 22 and I was this much of a mess? It probably wasn’t healthy to have this many worries. Hell, if I continued, I would probably have a heart attack before the age of 30!
I slid down the wall until I was in a squatting position, brought my arms to my face, and for the first time in years, broke down and cried.
My life was in shambles. I was living off my parents’ money. I had no job and no money. My love life was nonexistent. When the unthinkable had happened and Larry Mullen freakin’ Jr. has asked for my number, I had expected somewhat of a phone call but… nothing. I waited 3 weeks. 3 whole weeks without a single phone call. I was done. I had given up.
*************
“Hello?” I picked up the phone.
“Hi, Elena?” I heard a male voice mumble on the other end.
“I’m sorry but who exactly is this?”
“Oh… Larry! You know… the guy from the bar?” He spoke up.
“Oh, right! Hello Larry.” I answered dryly.
“Listen, I know I had said I’d call you and it’s been 3 weeks but truth is, I
haven’t had any time for myself. The band-”
“Look Larry,” I cut him off. “You can’t say that and instantly expect me to go out with you. You are the drummer of my favourite band but that doesn’t mean that you have the right to not treat me well.” I told him off, pushing my hair out of my face.
“Yeah, I know. Trust me, I’m so sorry.” He urged.
“No, I’m sorry. I’ve been having a bad day and I’m taking it out on you.” I apologized.
“Oh. So I guess tonight wouldn’t be the best time to take you out then?”
“Actually, I’d love to but most of my stuff still isn’t unpacked yet and… well… I’m a mess.” I laughed
“What are your where abouts?”
“I’m at home, why?” I cautiously answered.
“Give me your address.” Larry demanded.
“What why? You’re not actually thinking of coming over are you?”
“Why not?” I could practically see him smile. “We’ll have dinner, unpack a few boxes…” He trailed off. It’ll be nice.”
“Uhhh, if you’re sure” I silently pleaded he would back out. I wasn’t lying when I told him I was a mess. My hair was tangled; I was wearing sweats and a bleach-stained t-shirt and my makeup had run down my cheeks. It wasn’t exactly a nice look.
“I’m sure” He told me determinedly. “I’ll be over at around 7:30. Is that good with you?” He asked.
“Um… sounds great.” I told him. I gave him my address and hung up, practically smashing the phone in the process.
I looked over at the clock my mom had gotten me from Paris. 7:00. 30 minutes. Okay, I could do this. I ran up the stairs, tripping over a few boxes in the process. I ran into my room and jumped onto my unmade bed, looking exasperatedly at the boxes strewn across the floor marked: “Clothes!!” I started pulling things out.
I finally settled on a pair of jeans, a black tank top and an oversized plum coloured cardigan. If I had had more time, I probably would have been able to throw something a lot better together. But considering the circumstances, I thought I looked… decent. I quickly ran into the bathroom and pulled my long, messy hair into a loose chignon on the top of my head, leaving a few wavy strands in the front. I took out my makeup remover and took off the excess makeup that had run down my cheeks. In its place, I applied some plum eye shadow, and a few extra coats of mascara.
I breathed out. This was as good as it was going to get.
“Driiiinnngg” The doorbell sounded throughout the house. Good enough timing.
I briskly walked down the stairs. Not wanting to seem too eager, I waited a moment before throwing open the door.
“Hi!” I exclaimed.
“You seem to be in a much better mood.” Larry told me, stepping into the Victorian townhouse and closing the door behind him.
Damn, he looked good. He wore plain blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket. The whole look was very James Dean. I couldn’t help but blush a little as he lightly kissed me on the cheek.
Larry followed me into the kitchen where I had cleared out a few boxes around the counter and kitchen island.
“Funny, it doesn’t smell like something’s cooking” He smirked
Shit. I had been so preoccupied; I had completely forgotten that I had to prepare a meal.
“Damn it!” I muttered under my breath.
“Don’t worry about it. We could always cook something really quickly before starting on these boxes.”
“Oh you were serious about that.” I laughed. I had been planning to use the ‘unpacking’ as an excuse for him to come over and have a romantic, candle-lit dinner. Though I was extremely hurt that he had waited three weeks to call me back, I was more than willing to give Larry a second chance.
I ran into the kitchen.
“Thing is, I’m not sure if I have anything edible. Well, for dinner anyways.” I told him, frantically searching through my fridge, my pantry and even my freezer.
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. Damn it! My plan to have a romantic dinner couldn’t be accomplished without the dinner part.
“Chinese take out’s always good too.” He suggested, looking over my shoulder at the empty pantry.
“Yeah, I think we’d better go with that. Unless of course, you would rather eat cereal, bread or what appears to be chicken.” I laughed.
*********
The Chinese food arrived in no time. Now, the problem was no longer what we were going to eat but where we were going to eat it. The kitchen table was out of the question considering it was completely covered in boxes. The living room wasn’t much better. Shit. What was I going to do?
Larry must have read my worried expression because he said:
“It’s such a nice day out, a lot warmer than these previous days… why not eat outside?”
“That sounds quite nice, actually.” I smiled, grabbing an unopened bottle of Pinot Noir that sat in a corner on the countertop and two wineglasses from the cupboard.
We climbed the stairs and turned into the master bedroom. I silently cursed myself for forgetting about the mess that was my bedroom.
“Uh sorry about all the ….. clutter” I told him. “I didn’t exactly have time to clean up.”
“S’fine.” He shrugged. “I go on tour with three other guys. This is nothing compared to our tour bus.”
I popped open the latch of the window and carefully pushed it open, revealing a small balcony that held two chairs and table.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
“Perfect.” He smiled, making my heart flutter a little.
I slipped my Converse and leather jacket on, watching Larry climb over the window’s ledge with ease.
He put down the bags and held out his hand, ready to help me if need be. I daintily took it and hopped over the ledge.
*************
I pulled out a chair and sat down. The scenery was beautiful. The balcony over looked the Montreal skyline. Snow covered trees lined the streets and the blinking lights of the office buildings downtown shone brightly in the dark February night sky. I leaned back in my chair. The view was simply breathtaking. The fact that I was sitting here with Larry and a bottle of 1979 Pinot Noir made it all the more romantic.
"Wow!” Larry breathed out.
I knew exactly how he felt. This view was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was special and it was magical. Maybe it was Larry’s presence that made it different but whenever I had previously looked out the window, I had never seen what I was seeing now. I guess I had been looking but I hadn’t actually been seeing.
“You know,” Larry said, turning towards me. The tips of his ears were red from the cold. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you this earlier but I, I think…. Umm… that you look really beautiful tonight.” He stuttered. Larry’s cheeks were turning as red as his ears and it was hard to hold back a giggle.
“Thanks you.” I smiled. I couldn’t believe that at 22 years old, boys still managed to make my heart race.
Maybe it wasn’t just boys; maybe it was one boy in particular. I had never had a lot of boys fawning over me. Boys had never made my heart race or my palms sweaty even though it was only 14 degrees Fahrenheit. Larry was different. Larry was special.
I popped the cork off the glass bottle and poured myself and Larry a glass.
“To new beginnings!” I toasted, raising my glass.
“To new beginnings.” He repeated, doing the same.
We clinked glasses.
I looked over at Larry. His blue eyes were looking out at the sky, confused.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah. Just thinking about some of the drum patterns for some new songs the guys and I are working on.” He answered with a small smile. “Being a drummer’s hard”
“Well being a photographer isn’t much better.” I sighed
“I take it the interviews didn’t go well?”
“That would be an understatement. Apparently I lack passion.” I dramatically rolled my eyes, letting out a huge sigh.
I was suddenly very aware of Larry leaning into me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and his arm on the small of my back. I turned my head and looked into his eyes, my head tilted and slowly moving towards his. Our lips met. It very light and only lasted a moment but it was amazing. I felt as though bolts of electricity were running through my entire body.
“I don’t think you lack passion.”
There it is ....
?? Do you want me to continue posting?
Definately more please 
And your character is so real! I love, love, love it!! 
Really means a lot !!
