"Nikki!" came a soft girlish scream as a brunette appeared around the makeup trailer. She then knocked lightly on the door which bore a huge golden star with the letter N engraved in metallic silver. Waiting for a minute or two she gently turned the knob and hopped inside. The trailer was faintly lit by a light above the dresser and it carried a peculiar smell of smoke. "Hey, Nik are you done?" the brunette asked as she walked over to the dresser where a tall girl was seated. "What's the hurry Amanda?" the tall girl sparred in a cold tone. "Nothing sweetie, its just that I need touch ups." Amanda cooed. Nikki eyed her face for a minute and handed her a sleek black bottle. "Oooh! Mascara…. I so needed it!" Amanda blurted out. "It's not for your eyes, stupid! It's for your hair" Nikki shoddily informed her. "For my hair?" Amanda questioned her, utterly confused. Nikki nodded, her eyes fixed to her beautiful reflection in the mirror. Amanda could feel her heart beat quickening. Is she playing a joke on me or what? It was strictly not the time for playing jokes, and Amanda knew it quite well. She eyed the mascara nervously, not knowing what to do. Her gaze slowly moved to the small window beside the front door. This place will soon resemble a zoo. Hundreds of people were lined outside screaming ad cooing in a dull tone.
It was the first 'street fashion launch' for their victorious Trash! magazine. Trash! had over 5 million viewers in the world. The magazine had been proficiently able to capture the world's interest for some time now. Trash! was a worldwide phenomenon. Amanda was one of the leading faces for Trash! And so it was very crucial for her to look more than 'good' today. Amanda eyed the crowd nervously while Nikki was still glued to her reflection. She was the ultimate star of Trash! She was not ONE of the leading faces but THE leading face itself! Nikki was the best model New York could produce. She had her fame spread around the world and led a worldwide fashion rebellion. Whatever she wore was the ultimate fashion statement. Such was her power. And there was no doubt she had skill (and lots of attitude!) But the most contributing factor to her aura of fame was her hair. She had the best curls in the world! Her hair; black, sleek and flawlessly curly! Her face was delicate but it was a little disproportionate, compared to her body. Her marvelous curls made her head look just big enough. Her sleek black, curly locks and milky white skin tone made her resemble an angel. And her look was one of a kind. There weren't any curls in the world that could compete with hers and not even a single pretty lady who could match her gorgeous face and elegant yet trendy dressing sense. Agree, there are many angelic looking people on earth, but she was the best the world could offer. So, obviously she was in demand.
Amanda nervously opened the black bottle and stared defiantly at the shiny black bristles. Nikki had completed her daily dose of obsessively looking at herself in the mirror and was now glaring at Amanda. Waiting for a second or two, Nikki jumped up from her seat in one fluid motion and grabbed the bottle from Amanda's hand. Amanda was petrified. My doomsday today! Nikki promptly slashed Amanda's glossy, soft brown hair with long black streaks. "Don't touch it for like 5 minutes or you will ruin these." Nikki whispered. Amanda meekly stole a look in the mirror. How much more can one ruin them? Nikki eyed Amanda's black locks for some minutes and elegantly stepped down the trailer with a smile, closing the door with a soft thud. Amanda heard excitement shoot through the crowd. Here comes Nikki Clinch. My best friend.
"Afternoon, Ms. Clinch!" gasped a petite, sweet girl as Nikki entered the studio. "Good Afternoon, Ms. Clinch" cried another man wearing a blue hoodie. Ignoring the 'Good Afternoon' choruses as usual, Nikki walked to the end of the passage, inside a door. The huge room was abuzz with excitement. Several models were being made up in the plush corner of the large room. Nikki eyed through the hair and make up section for a while before abruptly walking over to the area marked for dresses. Where is he? Does he expect me to search the whole backstage to get my hands on him? She trembled a little in her short, strapless sundress as she marched up the stage and on the runway. "LaCoste`y!" Nikki screamed at the top of her delicate voice. A scared hush fell over the place. Nikki eyed the place for a few minutes before screaming even louder. "LACOSTE`Y!"She was bulging with rage now. Suddenly a red faced man ran out of the washroom with a loud bang. "Yes, Nikki Dah-Ling?" he mildly breathed out. Nikki glanced at the crowd, people were staring intently at her, waiting for her reaction. How I love attention!
But today she was past caring. "Don't you guys have any work to do?" she barked. Everyone reluctantly resumed their work and the place shot up with faint whispers and clumsy orders. Nikki stood on the runway with a faint air of authority as she surveyed the work being done, eyeing everyone curiously except LaCoste`y. "Nikki darling! What are you doing here?" came a voice from behind. Nikki smiled inwardly. She loved to trouble her boss. She spun around to see a tall, thin lady in her mid thirties walking up to her. She was donning a black-leather, knee length skirt with a tight, white shirt. A long string of pearls and black pumps lamented her trendy yet powerful sensation. "Maya!" Nikki cried innocently as she received her air hug and the little peck on the cheek.
"Why aren't you ready cupcake?" Maya vigilantly asked. "Oh! Bother LaCoste`y with that question…" Nikki smoothly replied. "Where is he?" Maya angrily exhaled. "Right here, Dah-Ling!" LaCoste`y spoke up as he strode over to bevy. "Well before you blame me for anything, let me inform you that I am especially here for Nikki today. I have an upset stomach, remember?" the tall, pretty man in the white suit shot back. "Whatever. Just go get her made up. Remember to make it street chic." Maya said, "Now GO!" Nikki swiftly walked to the hair and makeup section with LaCoste`y. The section was crowded, but not for her. A blonde model had to give away her turn for Nikki. Exhaling sharply Nikki sat down on the chair with a soft movement. "Now, stay still for a while there, Nik" LaCoste`y ordered.
Jake Gabriel sighed, slicking back his camera cover. When is this thing going to start? "Dad, how much more?" he grumbled. "No more money for you young man, you have pushed me far enough." His Paparazzi dad said. "But we've been here for the past four hours! Wasn't it going to start at 2:00 sharp?" Jake asked. "Well, this thing isn't official you see, so they don't need to start it at the time mentioned. And stop grumbling. I didn't force you to come. You needed money, so you came. Simple." Lucas firmly stated, "Well I know the sun is sweltering hot today, so maybe we should go by plan B" "What's plan B?" Jake asked curiously. "Follow me" Lucas whispered as he jumped off his jeep and towards the tall, glass building. "We don't have passes, if you are thinking of going inside." Jake said as he caught up. "We don't need them" Lucas said with a slow smile. Up ahead Jake saw two guards at the entrance. What the hell is he going to do? Slowly striding over to one of the guard, Lucas smiled and walked him to the corner, all the while talking to him in a hushed tone. He then passed a wad of money to him secretly and then quickly pulled Jake inside. My father just bribed a guard with some hefty amount! "Dad?" Jake started. "Not now. Let's hurry." Lucas sighed as they entered the studio. "Dad?" Jake repeated. "Will you shut up for a minute?" Lucas angrily exhaled. "Sir!" a short, stumpy man whispered to Lucas. "Mintick! Where have you been?" Lucas started angrily. "It's Bentick, Sir! Bentick Bekker." the stumpy man corrected with a foolish smile. "OK, Bentick! Is my work done." Lucas sharply asked. "Yes, Mr. Gabriel." Bentick beamed. "Good, show me the clicks." Lucas happily demanded. "Here" Bentick said as he slickly browsed through the memory before hading it over to Lucas. Jake peeked over his father's shoulder to see a picture of a slim, tall lady with straight, pale blonde hair getting out of a white Limousine. "That's Maya. The owner of Trash!" Lucas told his son. "She looks troubled." Jake observed. "Yes, she does. And we have to find out why."