Chapter 1
I somehow managed to hear my doorbell go off from my deep cannabis induced sleep. My eyelids felt too heavy to open, but I had to anyway, and watched the shadow of the person behind the door from the bottom. I thought of an alternate reality where I would actually get up and see who it was or maybe even open the door, but in this reality I stayed on my couch and waited for them to leave.
After some seconds passed the bell went off again and I held my breath, desperately wishing for them to go away.
Just fucking leave.
I did not have the mental capacity to hold a decent conversation with anyone this morning, or this week at all, and it was still Tuesday. I thought of how my life was this exact day last year. Yeah, things were definitely flourishing. I could easily count my blessings, although they didn’t feel like blessings then. It went to show how self absorbed and unappreciative humans tended to be. Me, especially.
The shadow still hadn’t left and I expected to hear the bell go off again, but it didn’t. It made me panic. Maybe whoever it was behind the door was currently scrolling through their call log right now, about to dial my number. My phone was just there on the table, and I remembered taking it off do not disturb last night after I missed several of my sister’s calls for the hundredth time this week. I didn’t call her back though, and promised to do so this morning. I’d been putting it off since.
Instead of the chime of my ringtone, I heard the lock of my door rattle.
Fuck.
Fuck.
My sister had my spare key.
Ignoring how heavy my whole body felt, I sat up straight and pushed all the evidence that I’d been smoking underneath the couch I laid on the exact time my front door came open. I froze like a deer caught by headlights. My sister froze like she’d just caught a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. Her expression slowly morphed into one of suspicion, then, annoyance.
“Why the fuck does your apartment smell so awful, Vanessa?”
She was already making her way to me before I could process the fact that she was the first human I was making contact with in over a week.
“I can’t smell anything.”
“That’s because you’ve been cooped up here like a rat for God knows how long. Why didn’t you answer the door? And why haven’t you been picking my calls?”
She stopped in front of me and crossed her hands over her chest, making no effort to hide how ticked off she was. I couldn’t help but do a quick sweep of her appearance. She had on cream pants and a sheer top with puffy sleeves, looking not a hair out of place. As usual.
“You look good, Lisa.” I said with a silly grin. I could only hope she wouldn’t be able to tell I wasn’t sober.
“I got the job,” she laid out flatly, arms still firmly folded. “That’s what I’ve been calling to tell you.”
Guilt made my face go warm. I was the worst sister ever. “Oh, Lisa,” I held my face in the hands and groaned into them. “God, that’s great. I knew you would anyway.”
“That’s not the point,” she snapped.
There was no point trying to sugarcoat things. “I’m so sorry, Lisa. It’s just... it’s not feeling any better.”
Her resolve finally softened and she dropped into the sofa. Her arm came around me and tugged me in. She smelt so good, so refreshing. Kind of what I imagined the ocean to smell like.
“How long have you been inside?”
“A while now,” I replied in a tiny whisper.
“Have you had anyone over?”
“No.”
“Have you been replying your emails?”
“No.”
“What about your Instagram?”
“No.”
She looked up at my table where my laptop lay asleep. I wanted to tell her that I’d gotten a little bit of editing done earlier this morning, the only work I’d managed to get done in eight days, but it seemed pointless. Everything did.
“I’m having a party to celebrate tonight at that bar we went to with Ari last month.”
I scrunched up my nose. “I thought we agreed that place is too pricey? It’s a great place but I had a headache looking at that bill.”
Lisa beamed. I knew that smile all too well. Her cheeks swelled and her eyes got so bright she looked like a kid again. It was the kind of smile she had when conversations of her girlfriend came up.
“Ari’s treat.”
“Oh, I forgot. You’re dating some tech genius who’s practically shoveling money for a living,” I mumbled grimly. Truth was, I loved Ari. She was awesome, and she treated my sister well and that took it to a hundred. I was just feeling sore from the events of the past month.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Don’t say no.”
“I’m pretty adept to saying that word.”
“I’ll fight you if I have to,” she said firmly. Leaving no room for arguments, she got up and handed me my laptop. “We’ll leave at seven, get some work done while I help you clean. This place is a pigsty.”
I watched her disappear into my room and appear wearing one of my oversized tee, her blond hair that formerly lay in waves down her back now tied up in a ponytail. Tears pricked at my eyes however hard I tried not to dwell on it. I hoped she knew how much I loved her. I couldn’t imagine a better sibling our mom could have left me with. I averted my face as she neared me and pretended to be occupied by the picture on my screen as she picked up around me.
Absentmindedly, I waved the cursor around the screen, wishing the image I’d taken and exported to my computer would edit itself. I was already behind with this collaboration and had the model shooting texts non-stop, wondering when she’d get the finished product. It was my fault taking on the project when I knew I was in no way in a stable mental form to execute it. Now I just had several unedited pictures and a ticked off client.
“Vanessa,” Lisa’s voice came, sounding extremely annoyed. I looked up from my computer to find my ash trash in her hand.
“I can explain.” I couldn’t.
“You need to find a better coping mechanism other than this. I don’t want you getting addicted to this stuff. Please.”
I nodded. “I completely agree.”
What I didn’t tell her was that I planned on taking another hit before we left for the bar. She was right, it was a coping mechanism.
*
“Hey, Nessa. Long time no see.”
Ari pulled me into a hug as soon as she got out of her car and tossed her keys to the valet. I noted that she smelled nice too, and wondered when my olfactory senses had kicked into overdrive.
“Hi, Ari,” I sang, watching my sister barely contain herself at the sight of us two over Ari’s shoulder. She’d stolen one of my favorite dresses to put on, one that had long sleeves and a plunging neckline and a dangerously high hem that screamed RISK-TAKER WITH LIMITS. It probably would have been the dress I’d chosen if she hadn’t jumped on it first, so I half mindedly settled for a dress that consisted of strips of material that covered enough but bared plenty and could easily fit into the pocket of Ari’s pants. Yes, unlike my big sister, I was the risk taker of us two. The risk-taker without limits.
Ari pulled away and did an obvious sweep of my appearance. “You look really good.”
I wasn’t good at a lot of things, but I was convinced I had two very precious gifts—the skill of photography that came so naturally to me, and the ability to clean myself up no matter how shitty I felt inside. Standing here with my BBL inspired dress, pencil thin heels and a face full of make up, one could hardly tell I’d spent the last week of my life crying, smoking, binge eating myself to sleep some nights and barely eating on most, and ignoring the fact that I had a life outside my apartment.
That was versatility, right?
I pulled on a smile I’d practiced in the mirror earlier while I did my makeup. “Why, thank you, Ari.” I cut my eyes to my sister and sent her a glare. “I wish your girlfriend thought the same.”
Her mouth fell open as Ari looped their arms together. I braced myself for the PDA that was about to ensue tonight. “What? Come on! I think you look good, too! I told you back at your apartment.”
“No, you said every guy’s eyes were going to be on my tits all through.” I stated matter-of-factly.
“Then I said you look good.”
I pouted my lips. “As an afterthought.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“Rightly so.” With so much sass I deemed necessary for one evening, I spun around and made my way through the doors of the bar. This was the most boost of serotonin I was having for as long as I could remember, and I planned on savoring every last bit of it. The plan was to get drunk, take some cute pictures and probably leave with a guy tonight. Lisa wouldn’t like the last one, but she’d be distracted enough by Ari.
The bar occupied the highest floor of a multi story building sat comfortably in the heart of *city*. Ari checked us into our reservation at the front desk and uniformed men eagerly ushered us in. Tonight hosted a much larger crowd than the last time we were here, and while Ari and Lisa whispered into each other’s ear on the walk to our table I fell a step back. Most of the tables were occupied by a variety of crowds. Loud talking men in suits nearly sent the ground shaking with their drunken laughter that made me wince. One man, undeniably attractive with brown hair slicked back locked eyes with me and his gaze fell down automatically. They lingered there and when they finally came back up, he was all but leering at me. I didn’t like his attention, not one bit. For some reason, it unsettled me.
We got to our table and slid into our seat, awaiting our orders to be taken.
“So, Nessa, what have you been up to lately?” Ari asked as she got comfortable in her seat. She had her dark hair tied up in a bun like she usually had it, and I noted she’d gotten a new piercing above her eyebrow. I wondered how she’d won the heart of my preppy sister. Back in high school before Lisa realized men were off her radar, she pined after the kind of boys who did volunteer work and always brought a pie he baked for your mom when they stopped by at your house and kept up with football talk with your dad. Watching her transition was somewhat surprising.
Ari didn’t care about pleasing anybody. When I first met her I thought she was way too blunt and probably didn’t earn enough to build a family with my sister, and boy, was I wrong. I had not known how big of a deal she was in her industry until she flew Lisa to two different vacation spots for her birthday and had me pulling out Google to look her up. Then I realized looks were awfully deceiving, because Ari looked nothing like a seven figure earner. Till today, she hardly ever made a show of it.
“I did this shoot with this chick two weeks ago, longest three hours of my entire life.”
Ari’s laughter was automatic. “Fuck. That bad?”
“She kept trying to take over the shoot! Vanessa, I think this angle would be better. This is my fat side. Vanessa, maybe if we moved the lighting this way? Gee, Vanessa. Don’t you have a discount? Hey, Vanessa, don’t you think the picture would be better if I shut the fuck up?”
“She didn’t actually say that last one,” Lisa said with a chuckle.
“I wish she did. I get it, it’s a collaboration and we’re both involved in the process, but will you let me do my fucking job, woman?”
The waiter came and we did this thing we usually do on nights out where we let one person order for the table. Lisa said the unpredictability of it all made it even more fun. It was Ari’s turn tonight.
“Give her a break, though.” Ari mused as she relaxed into her seat and draped her arm over Lisa’s after the waiter left. “Maybe she was just a little bit excited to be working with the Vanessa Moore.”
I folded my arms and rolled my eyes. But I liked the way she made me sound like a big deal. Perhaps I was, if the regular recognition I received for my work and the pretty large following on my social media accounts were of any indication. It wasn’t bad for a twenty-four year old who’d been doing this professionally for three years. Regardless, I felt like I could be doing much more, crushing more milestones and worked with the strong belief that the learning process never stopped. And although I like to carry myself with an air of confidence while working, imposter syndrome stuck to me like an unshakable bug more often than I’d like to count.
“Well, the Vanessa Moore wasn’t particularly excited working with her.”
“You’re brutal.”
Lisa whispered something into Ari’s ear which sent her into laughter. I thinned my lips at them in disgust. And envy. They did this a lot—whisper and laugh like little children. In a bid to ignore them I pulled out my phone from the purse. Since I was outside and temporarily out of my funk, I might’ve as well check my emails and accounts. I responded a few and replied to a few tweets on Twitter before our drinks came.
