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ChapterOne
Mmm-hmm. Everything’s Fine. It’s Okay. I’m Fine
BREAKING STORY:
Oh dear, it looks like trouble is brewing again for disgraced rockstar, Kaan. The one-time bass player for Seven of Crows has reportedly been arrested in London after allegedly getting into a drunken brawl that left two people hospitalised. Yikes!
According to sources, Kaan was throwing punches left and right, causing quite the scene. This isn’t the first time Kaan has had a run-in with the law, as we all remember his infamous mugshot grin from his DUI arrest in Miami. But this time, it seems the consequences might be more serious.
I can’t help but wonder what the new label thinks about this latest incident. Are they starting to regret signing him, or are they just crossing their fingers and hoping for the best? Who knows!
I’m Pippa Ellis, and this is Fame and No-sense.
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The bar is packed with the usual mixed assortment of people for a Friday night. I scan the room, searching for familiar faces. Spotting my people, I take a deep breath, plaster a smile on my face and sashay across the room like I don’t have a care in the world. Of course, my sashay is an act, now that I have come to the realisation of what I need to do. Facing the truth won’t be easy without some emotional support and that support lies with the group smiling back at me. I drop my bag onto an empty chair and clear my throat. It’s time. It has been a struggle to get to this point; to realise that I have a problem. I take a deep breath and blow out hard. I’m finally ready to confront it head on. And let’s be honest, if I can’t tell the people here now, who can I tell?
“Hi, my name is Margaret Martin, and I’m addicted to love.”
Their smiles change to bewilderment. No. Amusement, maybe?
“Howdoesthat song go again?”
“Stop it, Nate!”
“Are you talking about the song with the sexy girls all in black?”
“Come on, guys!”
“Something, something…” Nate hums the tune. “I don’t know the words.”
The group bursts into the chorus. “Gonna have to face it, you’re addicted to love!”
“I’m in pain, and you guys are treating my pain like it’s one big joke.” I stomp my red patent leather, five-inch heel in frustration. “Why won’t anyone take me seriously?”
But I know why. Multiple award-winning actress, Daisy Reyes, of course.
Personally, I don’t see it but everyone else, from my hairdresser to a lesser-known web-swinger, has pointed out to me at one time or another that I bear more than a little resemblance to Ms. Reyes. Flattering? Of course. Awkward? Not usually, although when I worked at an after-party for a fashion label last month, a certain actor (whose name I legally can’t mention) came up and kissed me on the lips and grabbed my ass (hence the awkwardness) before he realised I wasn’t his past amore. The actor in question was awfully embarrassed. He apologised, even so, they whisked me out of the room and asked me to sign a non-disclosure agreement about the incident before they would let me leave.
Few people know Daisy Reyes is actually a natural blonde and dyes her hair the same deep auburn as mine. When people started pointing out the resemblance I rebelled and started dying my hair… just to give myself some separation from my famous twinsie. Since then, I’ve been all the colours of the rainbow, but I settled back to mynaturaldeep auburn, and I love it. Sure, I knowshemay be better known for her locks that were once compared to the deep red of an autumn sunset, but I’ve finally embraced the look that God has given me. Coupled with my wide-set eyes (albeit mine are hazel rather than Ms. Reyes’s blue), and extremely perky baps, Daisy and I also rock a similar style proving that size really doesn’t matter. We may both be short, but we pack a lot of pep and sass into our 5’2 frame. Like Daisy, I also worship at the altar of fashion, although the only designer shoes I own are knock-offs, and my clothes are more op-shop than the real deal. Either way, we both look amazing with smoky eyeshadow, winged eyeliner and, for now, some banging red lipstick.
But being Ms. Reyes’s doppelgänger can be detrimental, particularly when I’m trying to have a moment—like I am right now!
“The first step is admitting you have a problem, Meggsy.”
That smart-ass comment is classic Nate Reuben. Nate thinks he’s funny, but I think it’s more sarcasm than humour. He’s been down in the dumps since The Doc broke his heart. The Doc, aka Dr. Nina Montgomery, unexpectedly broke it off with him last month. She’s currently somewhere in Jordan working with Amnesty International. None of us are really sure what happened between them, and Nate definitely won’t talk about it, so right now we let him have his sarcasm to help him get over his heartache.
Nate and I have known each other for a few years. I’ve never slept with him or anything, but we have spent a few drunken nights feeling each other up. As cute as he is (and he is very,verycute in that hipster, urban cool, kind of way), we’re just not meant to be. Still, everyone knows that misery loves company, so I drop into the empty seat beside him and make a decidedly mopey face.
He slides a glass of amber liquid in my direction. “You look like you could use a drink.”
I take a sip and make a face. Scotch. It’s my second most hated drink, behind absinthe (I’m pretty sure I was chased by a particularly nasty green fairy after drinking that concoction once). “I’ve had a bloody awful night, so you all must be very nice to me.”
“It’s going to be hard to make that promise, especially when you come waltzing in here looking like one hot piece of crumpet and announce to us that you’re some kind of love junkie.”
I look pretty good for a Friday night. Getting dressed for a date is hard enough, but when you factor in the rain and wind that hasn’t let up since January, finding the right outfit can be seriously tough.
So, I did what any sensible millennial girl does; I went on social media for some Insta-inspiration. And it didn’t take me too long to find it. After spotting a particular fetching creation being worn by one of my favourite New York bloggers, I pulled out the fabulous black keyhole romper that I found in a tiny shop off Portobello last month. It might be the world’s shortest romper, but I don’t care because it’s got a really great vibe going with it. I matched it with my black rain jacket, an original patent leather red Kelly bag I got for a steal at a boot sale, and also my red patent leather heels. My hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and I kept my makeup 50s chic with lots of eyeliner and, of course, oodles of red lipstick. I’m totally rocking #fridaynight #datenight. I’m cute and contemporary but with a very 1950s feel. I took a selfie and uploaded it to my IG, “megmartinissingle.” With the caption, ‘Here’s hoping things heat up in ol’ London town. Let’s see if tonight’s date is ‘all he’s cracked up to be’ – we’ll be using the hashtag #hotornot.”
