Fan Behaviour

I always used to dream big in life. Imagine the type of house I would spend the rest of my days in, and which breed of dog I’d own to take on daily walks through the park. Showing the world that I’m doing great and that life had blessed me with an easy path, to fulfil all of my hopes and dreams; shoving it in my sister’s face that I had made it. That I can get through without being bulldozed with problems.

I would be sitting on sunny beaches in my retirement with my A lister actor husband beside me, as our children carved their own paths or followed in our footsteps. The paparazzi nowhere to be seen when I take a sip of my pina colada and reminisce about how we met on set and instantly fell in love. To which he would tell me he loves me as the sun sets before us. Our life movie-like and all at ease.

But let’s focus on the term dream. As in, none of that has happened to me.

Yet. Think positive people, I’m only young.

Instead, I’m waitressing in a downtown cafe located in the south of Hollywood working for a guy who thinks the planet is flat and being given minimum wage for the ungodly hours I do. Just waiting for that one ring to tell me I have an audition for a movie, a tv advert, anything that will give me a chance to act and prove myself worthy of this industry. Giving me a sign that this big move wasn’t a waste of my time and that it will have something to show for it afterwards. Heck, I think I’d even do a college video at this point. I was that desperate to act.

But still, no sign of anything like that was coming my way anytime soon. I had a better chance at winning the lottery with the luck I’d be having lately than an acting role.

“Hadley! Where’s table six’s dessert!” A voice hollered from the other side of the counter, making me roll my eyes and zoom back in on reality. I couldn’t catch a break today.

“Coming!” I replied, grabbing the double fudge brownie specials and turning to face the rest of the establishment, presenting a fake smile as I traipsed my way to table six like the polite waitress I was.

I couldn’t stand this place.

The walls were a deep shade of blue that rivalled the sky above as well as the owner’s eyes, which quite frankly, I think was done on purpose. It would get people to compliment the interior without them even knowing they were also complementing the asshole owners peepers. He thrives off of compliments. And getting people to do it unknowingly would still count as a win to him.

And don’t get me started on the tables. The irritatingly round green tables that remind me of vomit each time I pass them.

Has he never heard of the saying blue and green should never be seen? No? Didn’t think so.

The place was a disaster if you ask me and if I had it my way, I wouldn’t be working here. But no one else would hire an aspiring actor from England with hardly any qualifications to her name. And I had bills to pay. So it was the only option for me.

For now at least.

That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.

“Order up!” I say with too much enthusiasm when I reach vomit green table number six. With more chairs scattered around it than there should be on an average day here in Dee-licious, named after Stu’s late wife—It has potential I know. Leaving the other tables with only a few seats left around them.

Typical.

Seven pairs of eyes stared back at me, each one narrowed as though I had interrupted their top secret discussion in a public area where I work. And in my defence, they did order this stuff. If they didn’t want to be disturbed they could’ve left and had this little meeting elsewhere.

“Finally,” The one in the red sweatshirt spoke, his lips pulled tight into a frown, almost like he was disgusted with my timing. “We’ve been waiting for hours.”

Now that was a lie. It had only been like what? Fifteen minutes top for me to gather their order? Which to be fair did take longer than usual, but it definitely wasn’t hours. I’d be home by now counting my cash if it was, emailing Debbie—my agent—to ask if I had any auditions coming up soon. So it was a major exaggeration on his part.

I raised one eyebrow at the guy and placed the four desserts in my grasp down on the table—two in my hands, one balancing on either arm—urging him to continue this ridiculousness and prove just how long I was.

He stared me dead in the eyes. So much I thought he could see through my soul and devour all of my deepest darkest secrets. Write them down and reveal them to the world with a sarcastic smile on his stuck up face.

He wouldn’t find much though. Just that I accidentally broke the taps at McDonalds a while back and didn’t tell anyone it was me in fear that I would be sued and billed for the damage. But they were wobbly anyway. Anyone could have done it, really.

It was just my luck that it was me.

But back to Mr, complaints over here, who had yet to say a word to me and so I was beginning to think that he was taking hours. With the way his eyes bored through me like a laser and how all of his little friends held their breath for his answer. Like they expected him to deliver some type of explosive speech or something to put me in my place.

Yeah right.

The guy inhaled a deep breath and I struggled to hold in my laughter when he stood tall, chest puffed out. He honestly looked like he was about to challenge me to a duel or something. Straw fight anybody?

“I want to see the manager.”

Oh...Well that was kind of disappointing.

I kind of hoped he was gonna say something more interesting than that, never mind original considering the build up he had created for it. Maybe something along the lines of a curse? I had never had one placed on me before and with my luck as bad as it is, I would have liked to seen where the thing takes me. I could have been turned into a frog by now if I had it my way.

But no, as always, the guy wanted to see the manager.

Great.

I put my smile back in place, aiming it at every one of them as I spoke my next words, calm and collected like I wasn’t about to scream. Oh, and did I forget to mention that I was on my final warning? Yeah, sorry about that. It must have slipped my mind when I was busy day dreaming about a life that could have been mine. Whoopsie.

“Of course, I’ll be right back.”

Turning on my heel, my smile faded and a sigh of annoyance slipped past my lips. This was it. I was finally going to get fired from this place and end up on the streets since no one else would hire me on such short notice. Left to go back home with my tail tucked between my legs since I ‘couldn’t do it’. Couldn’t survive in Hollywood alone.

And admitting that would suck so much.

The office came into view moments later, its old wooden door staring me in face—mocking me like it knew what was about to happen to me. Dooming my future as we know it.

Okay, now I’m exaggerating.

I just need to hurry up and get this over with, and who knows? Stu could see past this ridiculous—and it is ridiculous considering I have done nothing wrong here—complaint and let me keep my terrible job here. Because lets be honest here, it is terrible. The staff are treated like crap and are given hours that they would never pick given the chance. And to prove my point, I look down at my watch and see that it is in fact, nearing 10:30pm. This place is open 24 hours a day and I don’t get off until twelve tonight.

I have been here since 11am, covering for Becky since she had a doctors appointment, and no one else would do it. So that was reason alone not to sack me and let me stay on.

Raising my fist, I knocked twice on the door, awaiting for Stu’s gravelly voice to tell me to come in so I could get this all over with. I had high hopes that I could get to keep my job. Seeing as though no one else would take a position here and the man desperately needs staff.

But when he gave me permission to come in and I entered the room, his icy gaze told me a different story.

I never come to the office for any good reason. He knew.

“Well. well, well, back again are we?”

Crap.

Okay, so we aren’t off to a good start here. What with his obvious stare and accusing tone, I knew I was in for a lecture sooner or later. It was inevitable at this point so I just have to bite the bullet and accept his words without objecting to them.

But we could still salvage something here. That something being my job and dignity along with any sort of reference I could get to give to my next job—If I get a next job.

God, please let me have a job of some sort.

Swallowing down my pride, I stepped further into the room, my eyes instantly going to the wall of trophies to the right that glittered in the room’s dull light. Each one a mark of achievements from Stu’s high school years as a hockey player. It amazed me that he won championships—or whatever they were called; I’m no expert—when he first told me, considering he seemed to hate working as a team. His ex business partner was proof of that enough.

“Uh yeah,” I started, clearing my throat to try and explain professionally just how idiotic this whole situation was. I mean come on, the guy said I was hours bringing out his brownies? It was no reason for me to get the boot here nor was it an acceptable excuse to see the manager; it was just a waste of time. “Someone at table six wants to speak to you, and before you say anything, no, it wasn’t my fault. The guy has a knack for extending the story.”

Stu sighed before standing up and massaging his temples with his right hand, a gesture he only seems to ever do around me. “This better be good.”

“Believe me it’s not.” Shut up. “I think he just wants a discount or something.” I say, pointing behind me with my thumb when in reality I should just shut my mouth and stop talking. It wasn’t helping my case and was only agitating Stu more. Heightening my chances of being fired. Good job Hadley.

“We’ll see about that.”

Rounding the desk, Stu stormed past me and out into the restaurant, his old leather boots clanking against the floor as he did so. And I followed closely behind him, smiling calmly at Rachel—one of the nicest waitresses in here—when she sent me a worrying glance. She knew how close I was to going, and she hated the idea of it. She didn’t get along with the other waitress—Beverly—and therefore relied on me to keep her company during our joint shifts with the girl. So long story short, me being sacked would be an inconvenience for the both of us.

“You okay?” She mouthed.

To which I replied, “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

And then we approached the dreaded table six. As crowded as it had been earlier with Mr Complaints talking animatedly to his companions. His hands going everywhere as he re-enacted something that had happened to him the other day.

Well, that was until he saw me and the manager. Then he froze with a scowl instantly appearing on his face. You’d think I just told him that I ate the last cookie in the jar that was especially reserved for him. Not been “late” with his brownies. For all he knows I could’ve been in dire need of the toilet. I am human, you know?

“Finally!” He said, repeating the same words he said to me when I first brought his dessert over. Which I had now noticed was devoured and nowhere to be seen on the plates. So I wasn’t that long because they were still warm, meaning he’s full of crap. “I’ve been waiting for hours to see you!”

Hello Deja Vu! How’ve you been buddy?

I was so sure that I was being recorded by now that I expected a camera crew to pop out at any moment and yell “Surprise! You’ve been pranked and will be featuring in our new top show ‘Can we see your manager’!“. Because in all honesty, that would be quite awesome. And it would kick start my acting career.

It was a win win. They get footage and I get known to the world.

Alright camera people! You can come up now, I’ve cracked the case!

But of course that didn’t happen, because this is real life. And in real life people like me don’t get the opportunity to experience stuff like that. Instead, we just get snotty customers who will try anything to get you into trouble with your boss and possibly get a refund on the whole meal. Because mark my words, they will get a refund, and the cost for their food will come out of my pay check.

It’s happened to us all here at least once—some more than others—because Stu can’t afford to lose any customers because of our behaviour. Whether we’re right or wrong, he always grants the paying person with a reward of some kind. Be it a discount or a total refund, the customer always leaves happy and satisfied.

Unlike us workers. Who at the end of the day will be told that we need an attitude adjustment and that we should think twice next time about what we say to the customers.

In this case though, I’ve said nothing. It was my “poor timing” that got me into this mess.

Yeah right.

Stu looked between them all, his arms folded in front of him to show that he means business and that he takes this place seriously. Honestly, he should be the aspiring actor here, not me. He takes the money here seriously, not the actual establishment.

Poor Dee would be turning in her grave if she saw this.

“Now, what seems to be the problem here?” Stu asked the guy who seemed to want my head served on a platter to him. His eyes sliding back to me when he said “problem” since I was the only waitress other than Beverly to speak to this group tonight. (She had been the one to snap me out of my daydream). I’d have to thank her later otherwise I would have taken even longer.

Yeah okay, maybe I do suck at this job. Just a little bit...

Okay, I suck at it a lot.

The guy who had started this mess and will soon be leaving here with more money than he came in with looked to me, glaring just like he did when he accused me of being hours the first time. “Your staff,” He said mockingly, also knowing that I do in fact suck at this job like I admitted moments ago. But he exaggerates it a bit when it comes to me. “Left us all here waiting for hours to get our dessert. We have places to be, you know? And now thanks to her, we’re going to be late!”

“Bullshit.” Oh God Hadley what are you doing? “You’ve just seen me daydreaming on the job and decided to milk the fact that I took fifteen minutes to get you your damn brownies instead of the usual eight.” Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! “And if you want my opinion, I think you don’t actually have anywhere to be, because if you did, you wouldn’t be wasting all of our time here by arguing about a non-existent fact. Plus, it’s nearly 11 at night, where do you have to go?”

I snapped my mouth shut after realising what I had just done. I said before that we always get told to watch our attitude with the customers. And what have I just done? Gave attitude to the customers. Basically sealing my fate and throwing my job out of the window whilst I was at it. I was losing my job tonight all because I couldn’t keep my trap shut. And in front of my boss too.

I also think I’ve lost my chance at a tip here too...

Stu stood there silent, as the customer’s jaw dropped and his face turned a deep shade of red. Either he was embarrassed that I was bang on the money or he was about to explode himself and argue back. Either one was possible at this moment in time. I had already broken one rule by giving attitude, so what was another with arguing with the customer?

“How dar-” Mr complaints started to say but was immediately cut off by my boss. His tone cold and calm, the complete opposite of what I had expected.

“Hadley, grab your bag, you’re fired.”

Wait...what?

No, he can’t mean that, right? Surely I just misheard him, because he can’t really fire me for something as little as this, can he? All I did was explain my point, and well, swear at the customer, but that’s about it. I didn’t lung at him, I didn’t insult him. All I did was defend my honour and provide my boss with hard facts. And this is what I get? The sack?

“But-”

“You’ll get your final pay check, but don’t expect it to be full.” I knew it. He really was taking the price of their food off of my wage. Damn it.

I really was fired. Finished. Done. Sacked. Laid off. Whatever you wanna call it really, they all meant the same thing.

Crap...What am I gonna do now? This place funded my living, and without this, I was done for.

But we have one last shot.

I’m not above begging.

“Sir, please, I need this job.” I said, hoping that he will find it in his cold blooded heart to give me one final chance. I couldn’t afford to lose this job after all. It was my lively hood.

Yet, he just spared me a single glance and waves his hand at me, shooing me away as though I was an annoying fly surrounding him—buzzing in his ear like a nuisance. “Leave now, I have a business to run.”

That...that was it? No defending my case or hearing me out? Just taking the customers side immediately without even listening to my pleas? I called him Sir for crying out loud! Does that not show how desperate I am for this job? And I know that I said that I couldn’t stand this place—and I still can’t—but I can look past all of it’s interior if I get one last chance to work here.

God, I really had screwed myself over with this one, haven’t I?

“Of course.” I sighed, and with my head bowed in shame, I stalked towards the back room to collect my things. Which concluded as my jacket and phone. Not even looking at the guy who had caused all of this damage as I did so. It would only rile me up more, and I didn’t need a bad reference from Stu if and when I find a new job.

He was my only hope at a good once around here since I don’t think they would accept one from back in England. I’m not entirely sure on that one though, but still, I didn’t wanna risk it.

“What happened?” Rachel bombarded me once I entered the back room, where she was currently having her break. Her ruby red hair was tied up into a ponytail and her jade green eyes gazed at me with worry. She was going to either hug me or kill me when I break the news to her.

Possibly kill me.

I sighed and rested my forehead against her shoulder, a thing we did when the day was pushing us to our limits and we just needed a break with each other. She was my best friend around here, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. “I got fired.”

She immediately tensed after that.

Grabbing me by shoulders, she pulled me off of her to face me, her expression stern. “You got what?”

I cleared my throat and repeated myself to her. “I got fired.”

“For what?”

“I think the swearing at the customer sealed the deal.” I laughed, because that’s the only way I could deal with this right now. If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. And the last thing I wanted to do was cry about losing my job. It happens all of the time to people, so it wasn’t an excuse for tears. Plus, now I can focus on what I came here for. My acting career.

Then why do I feel like such a failure?

Okay that’s a bit dramatic. But we move on.

Rachel could sense my inner turmoil and therefore shoved me lightly in the arm. “Lucky, I wish I was fired. Now you can find somewhere better than this place.” She said, more than likely trying to lighten the mood by saying I was in a good position here. I was a free bird with the world at my feet.

Only, birds don’t have to pay rent or buy food. They just build a nest and eat worms from the floor.

I sincerely apologise If I’m wrong though.

I smiled at my favourite girl and let out a small chuckle, she always had a way of making me laugh no matter the situation.

But it was time for me to go. Before Stu comes back here and chases me out with a spatula like some crazed psycho. I’ve seen enough movies to imagine the scene in my head, and to be honest, It’s quite a funny one.

Not one I’d like to live though.

“Yeah,” I laugh once again, “I best get going...text you later?”

“Yeah.”

So without wasting anymore time, I give Rachel a hug goodnight and grab my stuff. Ignoring the fact that I had a missed call from my sister and four unread texts from her too.

Great. It wasn’t like my day was bad enough already.

It had gone from 0 to 100 real quick in the space of half an hour, and for no reason whatsoever. And now I was out of a job. Giving my sister the perfect opportunity to try and get me to come back home and give up this “silly little dream” of mine.

Well, that’s if she found out. I don’t necessarily have to tell her.

Okay that’s sorted, I won’t tell Cara that I’ve lost my job and therefore may end up on the streets.

Nice plan Hadley.

The streets were quiet as I pushed out of the doors to the restaurant. The cool air instantly hitting me and causing a chill to go down my spine, making me realise that I should have brought a bigger jacket. One that would actually keep me warm during these winter nights that were just around the corner. It was sure to rain too soon, judging by the darkened clouds and humid air. But I kind of hoped it did.

I loved the rain, it reminded me of home. When I would run out into the garden and dance in the heavy showers, jumping in the occasional puddle that I saw and getting mud all over me. Staining my rosy cheeks and dampening my fawn locks.

Dad would laugh along with me, mum would worry that I’d slip and get hurt. And Cara? Well, she would just look at me like I was an idiot. “It’s just water, what’s so special about it?” Was what she used to say to me whenever I squealed at the sight of the stuff. To which, I would always reply something along the lines of, “It’s not just water, it’s rain. And it’s special because it comes from the clouds.”

Which was a silly reply looking back on things. But I marvelled at the fact that these fluffy things in the sky could produce such powerful showers as a kid. It amazed me and my sister didn’t understand that fact.

Now it amazes me for other reasons. It gives me a sense of familiarity and calm, leading me to question whether I should just forget about my day and dance in the rain. Like I used to do.

Yet, before I could, something caught my eye, or more specifically, someone.

In front of me, was a massive billboard. The lights surrounding it casting a beautiful glow to showcase the image no matter the weather conditions.

And slap bang in the middle was Phoenix Adams, rising star and the most argumentative man in Hollywood at the moment. Paparazzi? He broke their cameras. Fans? He told them to get lost when they were “In his way”. His words not mine. His respect was nowhere to be found when it came to the public, and if I’m right, I bet he doesn’t even treat his management with the kindness they deserve.

He thinks he’s God’s gift, put on this earth to please us mortals with his infamously good looks and talented acting skills. Entertaining the world on the big screen then arguing with them face to face. It wouldn’t surprise me if he blocked the fans that kept tagging him in positive posts too. He’d see it as annoying.

Phoenix Adams was the Satan of the acting world in my eyes. And I pitied anyone who had to work with the man. They’ll need all of the luck they can get with that piece of work.