opia [h.s au]

Chapter 1

*** SIX MONTHS LATER ***

"Don't you have like... Evamor or Veen water? That's the only brands I usually drink" Mary whines and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

Complaining about the f*****g water brand? Oh for f***s sake.

"No, sorry, Voss is the only water we have around here" I mumble in response, biting my tongue to prevent from completing the sentence offering her some tap water instead.

"I thought my manager told you guys" She pouts and honestly, I don't know if she is still whining or if that's just her normal voice "Only water with of certain phs quench my thirst... The others simply doesn't do the trick" Mary shrugs.

You have got to be f*****g kidding me.

I dart my eyes from the perfect little blonde sitting in the middle of the studio to Chloe, her manager, who is standing behind the cameras with a sly looking face and she shrugs when her eyes met mine "If you want Mary to sponsor that mascara guess you'll have to find the water she wants."

"Billie, please, go buy some bottles of Veen water" Robin, my boss, barks at me but her eyes are sympathetic. She knows how much I hate this kind of bullshit.

My blood boils in my vein. That's so not my f*****g job!

I tie my hair up in a messy bun, suddenly feeling hot with angry. My eyes meet Gemma's and she nods, following me out of the studio with an angry look that probably matches mine. As soon as we are out of the reach of their listening area, she mouths to me "What the f**k!"

"Who the f**k says something like that? There's like hundreds of kids dying of thirst and starvation all over the world and that little b***h complains about the f*****g ph in water?" I whisper yell, rolling my eyes and almost pulling the roots of my hair "I f*****g hate working with that kind of people!"

"Yeah, I know" Gemma nods "And I'm so sorry Robin asked you to go buy the bloody water, that's so not your job. I can go if you want me to".

I smile at her, feeling better all of the sudden. Gemma is one of the kindest and sweetest persons I'd ever had the luck to meet and I know she just offered to go in my place to make me feel a little better.

"No, I'll go" I sigh "That's not your job either. Be back soon."

"Ok. I'll go back there and make sure everything is working the way it's supposed to. At least that's the last shooting of the day."

"Praise the lawd" I whisper yell, throwing my hands in the air in an exaggerated motion that crackles a huge smile on Gemma's lips and it has the same calming effect over me as always happens when she smiles towards me. I swear to God this girl is some kind of witch that always makes me feel better.

I leave the building I work in. Now it's like 5pm so the sun is almost gone but I put my sunglasses anyway, just in order to avoid eye contact with strangers as I rush to the mini market on the other side of the street.

For the past ten years, I've been a fashion executive producer - being responsible for managing and organizing all kinds of productions between brands and models. When I first started at the field, being an assistant produces at the time, I thought it was hard to keep up with some of the super models egos, having to cope with a little too extravagant requests in order to keep them happy while shooting for almost 8 hours straight - and at the time rushing to a market to buy some bullshit water were my job. But nothing compares to how it is nowadays with those f*****g spoiled bloggers.

In my time, you had to work your ass off to be recognized as someone at the fashion field, make sacrifices, climbing mountains in order to become a well-respected face, someone desired to star in campaigns of high design brands like Chanel or Gucci. However, seems like now everything you need to do is have a pretty face and a camera, upload some s**t tutorials of how to apply foundation or whatever in your YouTube channel and just like that you become famous. 

Internet is a wondrous thing but it's also murdering an entire generation of brain cells.

I mean, what kind of spoiled little s**t would have the nerve to say that her thirst is only clenched by a specific water brand because of its PH? That's the kind of thing you don't say out loud - it's shameful, really. We live in a world that is so full inequality, there are people who doesn't have access to the basics like clean water, food or even a roof over their heads and that bitchy son of a f**k would complain about the f*****g WATER PH?

That's just too much for me. Things like that makes me want to rise my hand and smack some sense into people's head.

After paying almost twenty five dollars for a f*****g bottle of water, I leave the market, still mumbling curses under my breath. Twenty five f*****g dollars for less than a liter of water, for god's sake! This should taste like cherubs piss to worth such high dollar.

Wait a minute...

Biting down a smirk, I open the water bottle and quickly take a big sip from it, making sure of gargling it a little before swallowing, just to be sure that I really enjoyed the experience.

Hmm, do you know how it tastes like?

Like f*****g water, that's how.

Entering the building again, I make a quick strategic stop at the bathroom, filling the bottle with tap water until it has the same amount of water it did before I drank it.

With at light heart I go back to the studio, dying to see if Mary would notice her rich water is not what she was expecting it to be.

And of course she doesn't notice.

~*~

My day has been insanely rushed, but that's nothing new about that. Working as an executive producer is practically a synonym to rushed hours and if you add fashion to the job description, you've just lost half of your life span working your ass off. After ten years in the field I'm quite used to it so when I arrive my home at almost 11pm, I do a little celebration dance, for the first time this month I managed to be at home before midnight.

Kicking my shoes off, I run straight to the kitchen, already typing a quick message to Dom to let him know I'm ready to our daily Facetime call. It took him a while to answer me and by the time my phone starts ringing I'm already serving me deliciously gourmet dinner to a bowl, the steam reverberating from it carrying the poisonous smell that makes my mouth water.

"Oh, f**k no, Billie, are you eating lamen again?" Dom's voice fills my kitchen as soon as my camera turn up. "You know that s**t is going to give you cancer."

I roll my eyes, taking a big sip of my noodle broth while I hold the bowl with my middle finger standing towards the camera "I don't have time to cook, get over it" I mumble between my sips.

"Order something instead, c'mon Billie. That s**t isn't healthy." He barks at me but I can see a glimpse of amusement in his golden-ish eyes.

"And of course you're one to tell me about healthy lifestyle, aren't you Dom? How's that bottle of whiskey we bought together last week?" I scowl at him while I go to the fridge to take a can of Coke so I can pair with my delicious chicken noodle.

"It's empty, go f**k yourself" He laughs "But at least I eat vegetables and go to the gym every f*****g day. I'm well-balanced."

I roll my eyes, choosing to ignore his lecture about my eating habits. I know I should be more concerned about my health, but I really don't have the time to cook healthy food or go to the f*****g gym. My work demands every bit of energy I have so there's not a lot to spare by the end of the day, and during the weekends I'm usually too tired to leave the bed to even take a shower, imagine actually exercising.

"So how was your day?" I ask, trying to change the subject while I watch Dom roll his eyes in the small screen of my phone, walking around his house with no shirt on. He have this habit of walking while talking on the phone that I'll never understand.

"Same old s**t, different day" He shrugs "Today I shot a campaign for Diesel, not a biggy."

Dom studied with me in Columbia, taking the same course of Film & Arts and we are friends every since. But unlike me, who decided to work as an executive producer, Dom was presented with the opportunity of becoming a model, which is not the go-to objective of studying Film but is way more fitting to his lifestyle of not committing to things for to long and, well, to his looks as well.

He is a different kind of model, though. He is not lean and perfect, actually he is quite the opposite. He have more than 80% of his body tattooed, a huge ass beard and the face of a bad boy. Between you and me, he is soft as a bear, but the bad boy looks sell at the fashion market so he is very successful.

"How about your day? How's ma Gemma?" He asks and I giggle.

"Your Gemma, you wish." I roll my eyes. Dom has a major crush on Gemma ever since we started working together, but she have a relationship with that Adam guy since forever and even though he is currently living in another country - some bullshit about his job at the bank - she stays faithful to him. Of course she does, Gemma is the best person in the whole f*****g world "Everything was fine. Did you know brands of water have different PHs?"

By the time I end up telling Dom all about my trip to the market to buy fancy water to that bitchy blogger, he has tears pooling under his eyes for how hard he was laughing - not because my story is fun, no. The reason of his tears of joy is that he loves to have something to mock me about and my life being the way it is, he always have new material.

I still have to hear s**t from him after that night six months ago, when I was making out with the handsomest guy in the world and really going through with that until the moment a crazy girl entered the room and started throwing punches all over him, screaming nonsense things about he being a man w***e and how she wished he would burn in hell.

Standing in only my panties, I shoved my skirt up and picked my shirt from the floor, leaving my bra behind as I dressed the shirt and ultimately ran for my life while Edward - who at least was still fully dressed - screamed back at the girl trying to make some sense out of the situation.

I've never seen him again after that night, and never wanted to set foot on that club again - it was enough of humiliation for an entire life.

So much for trying to live the life a little wildly, Billie. You're not one for that.

"Billieee" Dom's voice pulls me out of my own head "s**t, you were spacing out again. Have to stop doing that while on the phone, sweetheart" He mocks and I roll my eyes again.

"Well, it was good catching up but I really need to take a shower and go to sleep right now, if you don't mind" I stretch my back, yawning shamelessly "It's still Wednesday and I'll have a full day tomorrow."

"Sure, I'm going to bed too" Dom says and I can't help but laugh.

"Do you think I'm an i***t? Where's the party?" I ask.

"No, really, I'm going to sleep. See" Dom debates and I can see while he walks to his room and throws himself at the bed "Already laid and everything. I'm getting better, no more parties for me, gonna win Gemma's heart, you'll see."

"Of course, babe, whatever helps you sleep at night" I roll my eyes.

"Hey, are your Saturday night's plan the same depressing thing as always?" Dom asks, laying on his side and still holding the phone to I can see his handsome face.

"It's not depressing!" I debate "Watching Friends reruns while eating an entire bottle of ice cream is not depressing".

"Whatever helps you sleep at night" Dom mimics me with a high-pitched voice "So listen, I was thinking in throwing a party in my apartment. You'll come, right?"

"Do I have to?" I ask, already feeling tired with the idea.

"Yes, it's non-negotiable. And you'll bring Gemma along."

"What? Why?"

"I have a plan, babydoll. Talk to her tomorrow then text me, ok? Night night."

With that, Dom turns off the phone, not giving the chance to elaborate every reason why I shouldn't go to his party and above all that bring Gemma with me. She is more a Friends rerun kind of girl, just like me, and I don't think presenting her the wild lifestyle of Dom's friends would be a good idea to whatever plan he has.

At least his plan is to scare her off even more, than it would be perfect.

Sighting, I lay on my bed, not even bothering on taking off my clothes. I'll shower in the morning, too tired for that now.