In between the interviews, I reluctantly cave to my eagerness to hear Abigail’s voice and call her. Instead of her answering, it immediately goes to voicemail, as if she’s ignoring my call. Pushing the resentment aside, I’m soon rewarded with a simple text message instead.
I’m in the middle of a meeting. I’ll call you later. – Abigail
With a heavy sigh, I take in the answer as I’m once again reminded of my thoughts from last night. I’m not used to our lives being this way, either playing phone or text tag. I’m used to us having a routine schedule that always stayed the same.
Sure thing. I’ll talk to later tonight. – Matt
I hesitantly reply, knowing I won’t be calling her later tonight since I already have plans that will keep me from doing so. It’s not the answer I wanted to give, but it’s the only one I can respond with. The rest of the day goes as I had expected and my day is finally over. A few head coaches linger around to congratulate me on an excellent performance during the training process and from the smile on their faces, I’m hopeful. It’s more than I had expected when I’d arrived, which leaves me knowing everything is going to go well. At least I hope it will, I think to myself as I leave the building with a smile on my face, thinking of what I’ll soon be doing in a couple of hours.
I ATTEMPT TO suppress another yawn, but fail miserably as I lift my hand to cover my mouth. The action makes me smile and think of the last time I yawned this many times. But just as quickly, my smile turns into a frown as a pang of guilt and sadness overpowers my emotions. My eyes catch a glimpse of Julio against the wall and he looks every bit full of energy, but then again he wasn’t the one tossing and turning while plagued with every possible scenario of what Matt could be doing. I’d texted him a couple of times, and although he responded at first, I eventually didn’t receive a response at all, which only threw my thoughts into a turmoil of possibilities. I finally gave up on the notion of sleep and waited until I saw the first glimpse of sunlight cascading into my room to get up and get ready for my run.
What should have been a simple three-mile run was not simple at all due to my lack of sleep, but I pushed myself beyond my limits and completed the run; exhausted, but proud of myself. It’s now that I’m paying the price from my lack of sleep. I’m forced to attend an emergency meeting, ordered by the designer to go over the details of the show for tomorrow night.
My phone starts to vibrate and on the screen I see Matt’s face smiling back at me. With a quiet groan to myself, I push ignore, and I hate having to do so. I quickly send off a text telling him why I couldn’t answer the phone and within seconds he responds. Even though I can tell through his words he understands, I hate not being able to speak with him. I don’t get much time to dwell on the subject before Rebecca Russell, the designer, walks in as I’m stifling another yawn behind my hand. Her eyes catch mine as she turns them down into a narrowed slit; clearly irritated with me for some reason. I simply ignore her since it seems to be how she reacts to something she dislikes. Apparently, my one requirement as her top model to be fully rested at all times is the cause of her dislike for me at the moment.
“I need everyone’s attention!” she demands with an added clap of her hands. Her eyes are still directed at me, as if her command is for me more than anyone else. “Tomorrow’s rehearsal is our last before our show here in New York, but we are going to do things different than planned.”
Although her words catch my attention, I can’t help but start to yawn again. Great, the designer Nazi in her is going to start bitching my ass out any minute. I’ve managed to keep from having her wrath directed at me until now.
“Will someone please get Abigail a Red Bull?” she commands while rolling her eyes at my yawn. “And make sure it’s sugar free,” she adds, as her eyes roam my body.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My sleep deprivation has caused me to snap.
With her nose pinched high, she states, “I don’t like my models consuming any unnecessary calories. I need you as fit as I can force you to be.”
My blood is now boiling. I know for damn sure I’m in the fittest shape I can be in. My bones may not be protruding from my body like more than half these girls, but I’m lean and in my opinion am lacking an ounce of unnecessary fat. Shit, I’ve already gone more than a week without eating Matt’s pancakes; the lack of that meal is torture enough on my diet.
“I run enough to make my own decisions on my diet choices,” I irritably say through clenched teeth as my eyes stay locked onto hers. The room is now silent and you can practically cut the tension with a knife. No one has ever dared speak back to Rebecca from fear of the outcome. She is a force to be reckoned with, but I cannot care less at this moment. I can be just as feisty when I want to be.
Her eyebrow arches high before responding. “You’re correct, Ms. Adams. I appreciate it, unlike the rest of you who chose an unhealthier lifestyle,” she declares, now scanning the room, eyeing the remaining models.
I notice how she used my last name. She’s only ever called us by our first names, if she even remembers them at all. Most of the time she refers to the girls as, “Hey you,” with a snap of her fingers.
At that moment, a sugar free Red Bull is shoved into my hands, causing me to roll my eyes. Opening the can, I take a giant gulp from it, savoring the sweet taste.
“Back to what I was saying. My show for fashion week will be my biggest yet. It’s the most important show of the season,” she beams with a smile on her lips. “So I’ve asked the stage manager to change the layout of the runway to accommodate the attendees. That means today I need you models to practice… Practice… Practice,” she demands with another set of claps from her hands. “The last thing I need is for you to use the excuse that you fell on your face because you’re not used to it. Lord knows it’s probably because you’re high,” she tries mumbling the last words under her breathe. I should be rolling my eyes at them, but in all reality they will most likely be true. Not all of them, but a majority of them either show up drunk or high, which is why I’m labeled the prude because I don’t partake in their pre-show activities to help with the nerves.
She soon dismisses us, shouting demands at the intern following closely behind her as everyone begins to slowly start to depart in their own directions. I stay seated in my chair, continuing to sip on my Red Bull.
I can now feel Julio standing directly behind me and I don’t have to turn around to know he’s probably eyeing Bob, the stage manager who is now standing in front of me. “You know the show is only as big as it is because of you.”
Confused by his remark, I ask, “What do you mean, me?”
He snorts at my response. “Abigail, when we scheduled this show, we were lucky if we got two hundred people interested to attend. Now I have to accommodate over five hundred people for the show. It’s not a coincidence as to who’s bringing them here.”
“Isn’t it the designer?” I sarcastically let out before bringing the can up to take another sip.
He rolls his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s because of you. Believe what you want to believe Abigail, but I was surprised when I found out they’d contracted you for the show. Face it, everyone is curious to see if you’ve still got it,” he replies before turning to walk away.
His words stay with me for the next couple of minutes as I watch everyone scatter around me. It explains all the lingering stares I’ve gotten over the past week, especially during the meet and greet. Curious as to what changes will be made with the stage, I stand and make my way over to the wall blocking it, taking a quick peek around it, noticing how what was once a small runway in a straight line is now a rectangle.
Placing my earphones in my ears, they’re now playing the only song that can bring me the serene calmness I crave when I start to fidget from being nervous. It’s starting to become a recurrence before anything I do when it comes to my modeling. From the corner of my eye, I notice Charlie, one of the interns suspiciously eyeing me as he u
sually does.
“What are you listening to?” Bob asks from my side, startling me. Yanking the ear buds from my ear, I place it into his. A smile spreads across his face. “So is this what you’re into?”
“What do you mean?”
“Electric?”
I still have no clue what he’s talking about. “Who’s the artist?” he asks.
“Tiësto,” I say, still trying to figure out what the hell he’s getting at, but I never get the explanation I was looking for as he turns to walk away with a smug smile on his face, leaving me still confused. The guy has clearly lost his marbles.
Glancing over to Sarah who is now standing at my side, I ask, “What was that all about?” She shrugs her shoulder at me while looking at the stage. “Hell if I know. He’s in his own little world sometimes.” Her eyes focus on the entrance of the stage.
“Are you nervous?” Sarah asks, and from the hesitation in her words, she clearly is.
“Is this your first show?” I can’t help ask as I watch her nervously bite her lip. Her nervousness is ironically calming me knowing I’m not alone.
“I’ve done small shows for local bridal events, but never anything like this.”
“Then this should be easy for you.”
“Are you kidding me?” she croaks out, wide-eyed.
Giggling at her reaction, she snickers knowing I was teasing her. “So, I Googled you.” Her confession makes me nervous. “Are all the rumors true?” she cautiously asks. Normally her question would irritate me, but knowing that it’s Sarah it doesn’t.
“Depends on what you read,” I mumble, bracing myself for her answer.
“I read that you have amnesia,” she shyly states, as if ashamed that she was stalking me. “But there were also pictures of you at some of the races you did recently. I particularly like the one with you and that guy in Portland. It looks sweet,” she says with a smile. “Is that your boyfriend you were talking about?”
Thinking of which picture in particular she’s speaking of, it immediately brightens up my mood. It’s the same picture as my background on my phone. It gave me a purpose to never give up after I was injured and doubted I’d ever run again.
“Yes,” I happily admit with a smile.
Sarah’s eyebrows squish down. “But the tabloids always state him as your assistant.”
I’m now the one blushing as I clarify. “That’s what we told everyone at first, but he’s my boyfriend.”
“Do you miss him?” her words sound raspy, and I understand the reason behind them as I nod my head and turn away to look back out to the stage to hide the tears now clouding my vision. I hadn’t expected to become so emotional over discussing Matt, but I now have a painful pang in my hollowed heart.
I text Matt, but just like the last five messages, I get no response. Instead, I try calling him, but his phone goes straight to voicemail, my heart plummeting from the rejection. Today is the first day Matt has ever done this and the dismissal is slowly destroying me.
“Adams! Five minute warning call!” I hear someone shout from behind me, startling me from my thoughts.
“What’s the point of this again?” I ask Sarah as we both rush to the front of the line to take our places. I can hear the familiar screeching of Hans’s voice, lecturing everyone to treat this as if it were the show. I don’t know whether to roll my eyes or take him seriously. That man is clearly going to give himself a heart attack with how much he screams.
Sarah is back to nervously fidgeting behind me as she answers, “According to the schedule, it’s a mock run for the show tomorrow night.”
“It’s their way of catching our flaws and mistakes now, so we don’t embarrass them tomorrow,” she murmurs. Taking a peek around the wall I will soon be walking around, I can see the director now in his chair, queuing the music producer to start the music.
“Good luck,” she says as the line manager holds up his hand to start counting down the five second warning.
“And, go!” the production manager shouts, bringing me back to reality. My adrenaline is pumping. The music is blasting. Right on cue, I step onto the platform of the runway, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I’m halfway on the runway when I hear the director start yelling.
“Wipe that smile off your face! It’s a runway show, not a photo shoot.” His eyes pierce straight behind me as he lectures Sarah, who always has a smile on her lips. When I turn my first corner, my eyes glance at her and her normal radiant smile is replaced with a frown; one I know she isn’t faking.
I make it backstage without a lecture, and although I should feel relieved, I know I still have five more walks to go. One hour later, I’m doing my last walk and with minimal complaints, we’re all done and being called to gather for one final meeting.
“Alright, everybody! I do hope tomorrow night isn’t as disastrous as it was just now. And to guarantee it isn’t, we’re doing it again!” the director shouts before everyone groans in unison. He obviously ignores us as he walks away shouting, “Line up in ten!” over his shoulder.
Grabbing the bridge of my nose, Julio walks up to me and says, “I have to go do something really quick. Where is your phone?” When I hold it up to show him it’s in my hand he gives me a quick nod. “I shouldn’t be more than five minutes.”
“Bathroom break?” I tease.
His lips slightly quirk up, his eyes smugly staring back at me. “Something like that.” I don’t bother continuing to tease him as he rushes away. He must really need to go.
“I’m so over this shit,” one of the other models complains as we stand around waiting for them to order us to line up again. I ignore her whining as I check my phone to see if I’ve missed anything from Matt. Her next words catch my attention. “Damn he’s hot. I know what I’ll be doing tonight, and it’s him,” she purrs.
Curiosity gets the best of me as I turn to see what’s caught her attention. My heart stops, but just as quickly beats back to life. “Matt?” I ask with a fluttering in my stomach.
His dark eyes never leave mine as he pushes his way over to me and when his lips go up into his smile that I love so much, I know it’s him. Rushing to help close the distance between us, I practically throw myself at him. He lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life as my lips slam down onto his, needing to reassure myself he’s real.
“I take it you’re excited to see me?” he utters, laughing against my lips.
“Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” I say against his lips as I kiss him again, still not believing it’s really him. My heart is uncontrollably pulsating as I keep kissing him.
“If you’re dreaming, then so am I,” he says, squeezing me tighter against his body.
I pull away to stare down into his eyes, his beaming smile matching my own. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” he murmurs. My once racing heart has suddenly stopped in disbelief, my mind searching to remember what day is today.
“But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” I croak out, surprised I even remembered.
Matt throws his head back and lets out a full-blown laugh. “Don’t worry, beautiful, we can always start celebrating early,” he declares, reaching up to briefly kiss me.
“Yup, this is definitely the boyfriend,” Sarah voices with a giggle at our side, distracting me from Matt. It also reminds me we still have an audience surrounding us. Slowly unwrapping my legs from Matt’s waist, I lower myself back down to the ground, but he keeps his arms tightly wrapped around my body to keep me close.
Looking over to Sarah I introduce them. “Matt, this is Sarah.”
“Nice to meet you,” he answers with a nod, unwilling to relinquish his hold on me, but I don’t complain. It allows me to lean into his body and savor him a little longer. Suddenly a thought occurs to me. “Is this why you haven’t answered your phone all day?” I suspiciously have to ask.
“Yeah. I was scared I’d end up caving and telling you I was on my way. You have no idea how hard it’s been keepin
g this from you.”
“I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“There was no way I was going to miss your birthday,” he replies before leaning into my ear. “As I said before, you can be the icing on the cake,” he whispers, his warm breath caressing my neck and sending a shiver down to my toes as I remember the last time he used those words. I quietly let out a moan that only he can hear. From the way his body stiffens against mine, I know he’s received my message.
“You better stop making those noises or else I’m going to drag you out of here and not look back,” he warns, placing a kiss below my ear. I’m about to drag him out of the room, not caring what anybody thinks, but my plan is brought to a halt when I’m reminded of why I can’t leave.
“One minute warning call! Take your positions!” an intern orders.
I groan into Matt’s neck, earning me a chuckle in return. “How much longer do you have left?”
“I don’t know,” I miserably mumble.
Giving me a kiss on the corner of my mouth before he pulls away, he says, “Go do your job and I’ll wait here with Julio until you’re done,” then squeezes my ass before shoving me lightly, urging me to walk away.
I’m already mourning the loss of his embrace as I walk away from him. Taking one final look over my shoulder, I see Matt smiling back at me, making me want to rush back into his arms and stay there for the next couple of days.
I take my first step onto the runway, a smile on my face, uncaring of what the director thinks. I have a reason to smile this time, and he’s currently waiting for me only steps away.
“I CAN’T WAIT to be inside of you,” I breathlessly tell Abigail as we both savagely kiss each other. Abigail’s warm tongue glides against my own as she whimpers into my mouth, urging my hands to tighten their grip on her waist as she grinds her hips against my body. “How much longer until we get back to your hotel room?” I desperately ask, unable to control my patience, wanting to rip her clothes off in the back seat of the car.
Unspoken Endings Page 6
