Star dust

[stone_roses]

Who: Vivian.
What: Job.
When: Now.

Rating: R for adult content.
---------------------------------

Marty had given her a room at Hush, taking her in as his own flesh and blood. Viv could live in the lifestyle Marty supplied for free but the insisting little nagging voice in her mind wouldn’t leave things alone. Audr refused to sponge off others. She brought New York papers and began circling job opportunities. Her pen hovered over the advertisements, what was a nineteen year old, mostly unschooled…the voice in her head told her to ’shut it’. They were just excuses. Marty could give her any piece of paper she needed and she could practically fake her way through until she could get the hang of the job. Pursing her full glossy lips, Vivian couldn’t fully dispel the doubts. She had settled in at Hush, it had become her home. Still the place wasn’t hers and hers alone.



After she set up several appointments by phone Viv took a walk making her way to a bar. She walked along the streets, it was almost Fall and the weather was beginning to turn brisk. She had dressed carefully in a simple dark blue dress suited to the cooling weather and she teamed the dress with low-heeled shoes. She wore minimal make up as was her preference. At nineteen, Vivian was a natural beauty with her perfect oval face, dark hair, smoky tortoiseshell coloured eyes and dazzling smile. The face was what had helped bounce her from sex ring to sex ring until she came under the elite handling of Lenny Thomas. With his slick back hair, hawkish nose, slit eyes, and always smoking a thin cheroots, Lenny embodied the word pimp. He hadn’t reached forty yet, but was well on the way if he didn’t get knocked off first. Lenny had plenty of enemies, who thankfully hadn’t found him which help Viv meet his ring. Lenny made a name for himself touting his hookers as high class. Lenny may have looked greasy and wore a grubby white suit, cheap black shirt and bright green tie, but he had made sure his merchandise looked top dollar. When Vivian managed to find herself bartered off to the nearest high dollar and fall straight into Lenny Thomas, she knew he’d take her high. She gave him his due as smarmy as he was, he once told her cheap doesn’t have to be nasty. For the frist time in her life Vivian found out what rich could feel like. He dressed her in silk. Paste diamonds. And for the final touch of exotic richness he gave a small single drop of expensive perfume,

“Eau de parfum, darling, this is potent shit. Not Eau de toilette. It’s the best you’ll ever get close to. I’ll tell you now, you buy yourself a good bottle of proper perfume when you get the chance, and you’ll never feel cheap. Extract perfume---that’s what you should get your clients to buy.”

Vivian at seventeen had chewed on a piece of gum and rolled her eyes, disinterested in all the primping to make her look expensive and not the cheap whore she was. Lenny coifed her hair into a high rolled bun and sighed while he looked at the wilful girl in the mirror. This girl was going to be his card to the top, he thought. He hadn’t been wrong either. Vivian performed like she should. Three years later at nineteen, Vivian found herself shipped out, and word on the street was Lenny’s enemies eventually caught up with him.

Now, she was in New York; of all things looking for a job. The jobs she had made appointments for didn’t seem exciting. Making her way through the streets Vivian passed a modelling agency called Starr’s and retacked her steps back to the door. Model. Why not?

Vivian had no idea how a Model went about getting into the business - she was about to find out. A harassed girl at the front desk told Viv she’d made a mistake and better come back the next day, there was no one to see her. Vivian wasn’t about to give up so easily and asked where every one was,

“They are all over at the big photo shoot for Flare Cosmetics.” Came the abrupt reply from the front desk girl. Vivian nodded and left, once outside she used her phone to find the number for Flare Cosmetics. Finding the number for the main office she asked where she could find the ad. photo session was and two minutes later she had the information of a photographer’s studio.

She walked to the studio. When she arrived she informed the girl at the desk she was delivering a parcel from Starr’s model agency. After that Vivian made her way down a narrow corridor which led into a large brightly lit studio. Vivian hovered momentarily trying to think of what to do next. When a booming female voice interrupted her,

“Can you answer phones?”

Vivian couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “It sounds like a really challenging job.”

The woman replied abruptly. “You have exactly five minutes to think about it. After that, my dear girl, this job opportunity is over.”

“How much is the salary?”

“Not enough.”

“I need money for an apartment and food.” Replied Vivian.

“Starvation will build character. Your five minutes is almost up.”

“I’ll take it.”

Some how, a week later, Vivian found her self working for Starr’s modelling agency as a booker. A booker, she soon found out, did everything for the band of models who trudged in and out of the place like a constant parade of exotic dazzling beautiful butterflies. The job was certainly different. Definitely not boring. The one thing she had learnt about every Model she came in contact with was while they were all gorgeous, every one it seemed, had a screwed-up personal life. She felt right at home. And almost, just almost, Vivian could pretend she was normal and not an Immortal.