Roommates With Benefits

Her face softened a little, giving me the impression gratitude wasn’t a regular sort of thing around here. That soft look faded as soon as the phone rang. Talk about wearing multiple hats—that poor girl looked done and it wasn’t even nine yet.

After climbing onto the elevator, I checked the address of my first meeting. It wasn’t until ten, which gave me time to slow down and put together a plan. I would be on foot all day. I’d already accepted that. My goal was to plan my trips as efficiently as possible, but as I read the seven different addresses, I didn’t have any idea if any of the streets were close together or on opposite ends of the city.

Crossing my fingers, I approached the desk at the first-floor entrance. “Excuse me, sir?” As soon as the man at the desk glanced up, I continued. “You wouldn’t happen to have a street map of the city, would you? One of those touristy ones that make it simple enough to understand that a small child could navigate the streets successfully?”

The elderly man gave me an amused look, then something dawned on his face when he noticed the black portfolio clutched in my hands. Reaching inside one of the desk drawers, he pulled out something. “Must be your lucky day.”

He winked as he set a brochure in front of me. Sure enough, it was one of those maps made for the navigation-impaired tourists swarming the city. Or in this case, the small-town rookie model who was attempting to traverse her new home.

“Thank you.” It came out sounding like he’d just saved my life instead of handing me some free paper map, but I felt like he kind of had saved my life.

Taking a seat on one of the benches beside the doors, I scanned the map for a few minutes, familiarizing myself with the streets. Then I pulled a pen out of my purse and circled the general areas I had appointments at, along with numbering them based on time. None of the appointments were way on the outskirts of the city, thank goodness. There must have been a centralized fashion part of the city.

The trek to my first appointment looked like it would take the longest, so I started moving that direction, pausing every few blocks to check the map to make sure I hadn’t gotten turned around. The sidewalks weren’t quite as busy as earlier, but there were still swarms of people moving along them.

This was all so different from where I’d come from. The noises, the sights, the people, the smells—I wasn’t sure two places could be as opposite as New York City and Hastings. Even though I’d spent my whole life in one town, this place had an odd sense of home. An air of belonging. Everything was new, but it had a familiarity—like I’d experienced it in another life.

New York City. The place that was home to millions, yet it felt like it was all my own at the same time.

By the time I made it to the address for my first go-see, my feet were numb. I couldn’t tell if that was from the cold or the walking. Tomorrow, I was definitely bringing sneakers to change into for my biped commuting.

Zelda Zhou was the name of the client. From what I recalled from scouring endless magazines, she was an up-and-coming designer known for courageous use of color and unapologetic attitude toward mixing patterns. At least that was how I recalled the writer describing her designs in last month’s Mode.

As soon as I stepped inside her shop, I felt like I’d been transported into some psychedelic hippie rebirth. Coming from the monochromatic streets outside, it took me a moment to adjust to all of the color inside the studio.

Similar to K&M’s, there was a reception desk and a young lady working it, but she was dressed like she was auditioning for the circus. When she noticed me, she adjusted the feather boa on her neck. “Her Highness will here shortly. Please take a seat.” The girl pointed her long, neon green fingernail at a few beanbags shoved against a wall. Two of them were already taken.

The fashion world—designers especially—were a unique bunch. A breed that embraced the freak-flag-flying motto. As “vanilla” as I considered myself when it came to my own inner freak, I loved the whole creed. Be yourself. Whoever that is. To whatever extent that was. Individuality was frowned upon in Hastings, at least in its extreme cases. But here, it seemed to be celebrated.

The two girls sitting on beanbags were talking, clearly about me. When I dropped onto the beanbag beside one of them, she twisted toward me.

“We were just taking guesses,” she explained, glancing at the way I was clutching my portfolio to my chest. “On what number go-see this is for you.”

The girl beside her leaned forward and waved at me. “She thinks it’s your third. I say it’s your first.”

Okay, first model-y-model run-in. I’d read the horror stories, of course, but I was determined to approach this new life with a give-the-benefit-of-the-doubt philosophy. Neither of them were giving me serious side-eye, and they’d been upfront about what they’d been whispering over.

“It’s my first.”

The girl two beanbags down thrust her arms up in victory.

“What number go-see is this for you guys?” I asked.

The girl beside me lifted a dark eyebrow. “The number So-Many-I’ve-Lost -Count.”

“That’s because she’s ancient.” The other girl pointed at the corner of the girl’s eye, but I didn’t see a single wrinkle.

She shoved her “friend’s” finger away. “Twenty-two is not ancient.”

“It is if you’re Her Highness Zhou. If you don’t look fourteen, she’ll toss you out the back door like last season’s designer handbag.”

It felt like these two were just getting started, so I cleared my throat. “I’m Hayden. I just moved here a whole . . .” Checking my watch, I did some quick mental math. “Fifteen hours ago.”

“Hey, I’m Ariel, and this is Jane,” the girl next to me said. “She’s a plus-size model.”

“You hear that note of bitterness?” Jane leaned farther forward so she could look at me. “It’s because having no fat on one’s body turns a person into a miserable bitch.”

Ariel’s eyebrows lifted. “And who’s had more boyfriends in the past two years?”

“You.” Jane motioned at her like she was accusing her of something. “Because I’m not looking for a boyfriend. Why would I want one of those when I can have a new boy-toy in my bed every night of the week?”

“You sure they’re not just hanging around one night because in the morning when they sober up, the beer goggles from the night before fall off?”

Jane didn’t look the least bit insulted, leading me to the impression these two had plenty of experience giving each other a hard time. “You know what’s another side effect of no body fat? Diminished sex drive. Might be why Jon’s right hand’s been looking extra soft and supple lately.”

Ariel elbowed Jane as she crossed her arms. I stayed quiet, because that seemed like the safest option.