Make Me
Do You Take Pictures Off The Walls?
As Justice sat at a red light, a car pulled up beside her filled with girls singing along to One Direction’s Up All Night. Glancing over she rolled her eyes, but one of the girls seemed to recognize her. Leave it to a Directioner to know that she was the mystery girl. The curly haired, red head quickly smacked the girl beside her and pointed over.
“Hey,” she shouted over the music, leaning out of the window to get closer to Justice. “You’re that girl that Harry was with! Are you really just friends?”
With a twitch, Justice turned to face forward again. She really couldn’t answer that question, mainly because they weren’t friends at all anymore. They hadn’t even spoken in nearly a month. Biting her lip, she turned back to the red head.
“I think you have me confused with someone else, I don’t know any Harry’s,” she replied before turning up her stereo, effectively drowning out the girl as she desperately tried to regain Justice’s attention. There was no point in having the conversation when she couldn’t talk about it. She wasn’t even allowed to tell her family what happened.
The light turned green and off she went, leaving the car full of Directioners behind. She couldn’t blame them for wanting answers; it seemed that’s what everyone wanted. Except they would never get the truth, instead they were stuck with pretty little lies that rolled off the tongue like a Spanish ‘rr’. The truth of the story was just one more thing that she kept silent, and she refused to lie. If she didn’t have the gag order she would tell her side. That was impossible now, but if she could she would start her story at the beginning. She would start her story with the phone call that changed her life.
A shrill ring echoed through the cluttered apartment, as a dark haired girl hurried to the phone. Her eyes watched the floor as she dodged boxes and scattered objects. There was still a lot of unpacking to do. Stepping over a small, unopened box she grabbed the screeching object and answered it.
“This is Justice,” she said, the sleek black cordless pressed firmly against her ear.
“Hey,” the caller replied. “It’s Mark. We just got a big job and seeing as both James and your father are out already, you get to hear about it first.”
“Well, what is it?” Justice asked, sitting down on the arm of a black sofa. A hand ran through her thick black hair as she anxiously awaited the news.
“One Direction’s tour manger called. They need a photographer for their summer tour and want to hire someone at our company, I sent them your portfolio and they are more than pleased. So, do you want the job?” Mark asked.
“A whole summer in my little Honda while I follow the teeny boppers around! Oh, goodness, who could pass that up?” Justice asked sarcastically, eyes rolling as she tossed a hand out to the air. “Mark, as much as I would love to do it. I still have an apartment to unpack.”
Glancing around what would be her living room, Justice sighed. She had just gotten back from shooting a tour for a small name and going back on the road again didn’t seem like much fun. It was only six months ago that she got the apartment, the fact that she still hadn’t unpacked spoke for how much she had been home in that time. It seemed like all she had done for the past three years was work.
“Justice, I honestly thought you would love this. You’ve been overjoyed at every other tour job, so I kind of told them you would be happy to do it,” Mark explained meekly, his voice seeming to shake as he prepared for the anger that was sure to come.
“You did what?”
“I told them you’d take the job,” he repeated. Justice wanted nothing more than to put her hands around the man’s throat. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he had a tendency to do stupid things. Usually it was wearing stripes with plaid, or a polka-dot tie with a bright printed shirt. This, however, was one of his even less bright moments.
“Fuck.” Falling back onto the sofa, Justice sighed as she tugged the hem of her grey shirt down over the thin line of milky skin that showed. Another tour. “When do I have to be ready and where do I have to go to meet them?” If she was anything it was professional.
Mark sputtered out the details before they ended the call. Looking around at the mass of boxes in the small apartment, Justice wondered if she would ever get to put up her photos. Shaking her head, she grabbed a box and decided there was no time better than the present. In a few of the larger boxes were framed photos that she had taken on past tours. A few were of band members on stage, the hands of fans reaching out at them. Others were of backstage moments, where laughs and tears were captured on film. For a woman of only twenty, she had major talent in photography. It ran in her blood though. Her father was world famous for his pieces and her brother worked with them at the company.
Now she had another tour to capture. She’d have to take some good photos to earn a spot on her walls, but she knew that the members of One Direction were very photogenic. If she got the chance, she just might have to talk them into an impromptu photo session.
“Hey,” she shouted over the music, leaning out of the window to get closer to Justice. “You’re that girl that Harry was with! Are you really just friends?”
With a twitch, Justice turned to face forward again. She really couldn’t answer that question, mainly because they weren’t friends at all anymore. They hadn’t even spoken in nearly a month. Biting her lip, she turned back to the red head.
“I think you have me confused with someone else, I don’t know any Harry’s,” she replied before turning up her stereo, effectively drowning out the girl as she desperately tried to regain Justice’s attention. There was no point in having the conversation when she couldn’t talk about it. She wasn’t even allowed to tell her family what happened.
The light turned green and off she went, leaving the car full of Directioners behind. She couldn’t blame them for wanting answers; it seemed that’s what everyone wanted. Except they would never get the truth, instead they were stuck with pretty little lies that rolled off the tongue like a Spanish ‘rr’. The truth of the story was just one more thing that she kept silent, and she refused to lie. If she didn’t have the gag order she would tell her side. That was impossible now, but if she could she would start her story at the beginning. She would start her story with the phone call that changed her life.
A shrill ring echoed through the cluttered apartment, as a dark haired girl hurried to the phone. Her eyes watched the floor as she dodged boxes and scattered objects. There was still a lot of unpacking to do. Stepping over a small, unopened box she grabbed the screeching object and answered it.
“This is Justice,” she said, the sleek black cordless pressed firmly against her ear.
“Hey,” the caller replied. “It’s Mark. We just got a big job and seeing as both James and your father are out already, you get to hear about it first.”
“Well, what is it?” Justice asked, sitting down on the arm of a black sofa. A hand ran through her thick black hair as she anxiously awaited the news.
“One Direction’s tour manger called. They need a photographer for their summer tour and want to hire someone at our company, I sent them your portfolio and they are more than pleased. So, do you want the job?” Mark asked.
“A whole summer in my little Honda while I follow the teeny boppers around! Oh, goodness, who could pass that up?” Justice asked sarcastically, eyes rolling as she tossed a hand out to the air. “Mark, as much as I would love to do it. I still have an apartment to unpack.”
Glancing around what would be her living room, Justice sighed. She had just gotten back from shooting a tour for a small name and going back on the road again didn’t seem like much fun. It was only six months ago that she got the apartment, the fact that she still hadn’t unpacked spoke for how much she had been home in that time. It seemed like all she had done for the past three years was work.
“Justice, I honestly thought you would love this. You’ve been overjoyed at every other tour job, so I kind of told them you would be happy to do it,” Mark explained meekly, his voice seeming to shake as he prepared for the anger that was sure to come.
“You did what?”
“I told them you’d take the job,” he repeated. Justice wanted nothing more than to put her hands around the man’s throat. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he had a tendency to do stupid things. Usually it was wearing stripes with plaid, or a polka-dot tie with a bright printed shirt. This, however, was one of his even less bright moments.
“Fuck.” Falling back onto the sofa, Justice sighed as she tugged the hem of her grey shirt down over the thin line of milky skin that showed. Another tour. “When do I have to be ready and where do I have to go to meet them?” If she was anything it was professional.
Mark sputtered out the details before they ended the call. Looking around at the mass of boxes in the small apartment, Justice wondered if she would ever get to put up her photos. Shaking her head, she grabbed a box and decided there was no time better than the present. In a few of the larger boxes were framed photos that she had taken on past tours. A few were of band members on stage, the hands of fans reaching out at them. Others were of backstage moments, where laughs and tears were captured on film. For a woman of only twenty, she had major talent in photography. It ran in her blood though. Her father was world famous for his pieces and her brother worked with them at the company.
Now she had another tour to capture. She’d have to take some good photos to earn a spot on her walls, but she knew that the members of One Direction were very photogenic. If she got the chance, she just might have to talk them into an impromptu photo session.
1/9/13