The days pass quickly, filled with talking to friends and family, binging shows, and playing video games with my friends online. I also don't miss the opportunity to do a lot of online shopping, trying to put together the perfect outfit for the event that is coming up way faster than expected.
Tomorrow is Thursday, and I still haven't found something I really liked. I pull out my phone to send a few quick texts to my closest friends in New York.
Kavya: Hey guys, are y’all busy tomorrow? Like, all day?
Sam: I’m free, you finally have time for us?
Kavya: You’re such a crybaby
Kavya: Tommy, what about you?
Tommy: Yeah I should be free after 3, what's going on?
Sam: Kav why are you so mean to me
Kavya: You know I love you
Kavya: I need to go shopping, like major, big time, this is going to take 5 hours, kinda shopping.
Kavya: That job that I applied for with 5sos, they called me back and they want me to do a second interview but the interview is basically a black tie party event thing
Tommy: HOLY SHIT CONGRATULATIONS
Sam: ARE YOU SERIOUS THAT'S INCREDIBLE K
Kavya: Thank you, thank you, so are you in?
Sam and Tommy don’t reply for a few minutes, and I assume they're talking to each other about it in their shared apartment.
Sam: We’ll pick you up at 3:30
I smile down at my phone. While Blake was my best friend from back home, Sam and Tommy were absolutely my best friends in college.
We met when I was a freshman at Clemson University and they were sophomores that lived in the apartment above me. Within two months of knowing them, we were completely attached at the hip. They were best friends since childhood, similarly to Blake and I, and I just fit in perfectly with them.
We went through a lot of shit together, not that Blake and I didn't go through it as well, it was just different in college. You don't have anyone other than your friends to rely on when you fail an exam, get cheated on, or get into a screaming match with your roommates. Or, when you get sick, especially when you get sick. Tommy was great at helping me and Sam when we were sick, even though if Tommy and I got sick, Sam wouldn't touch us with a 10 foot pole.
Plus since they were a year older than me, they offered a lot of guidance involving class schedules, professors, resumes, and just general stuff you would wish to know for college.
Since I planned to graduate early we made the plan to have our graduation parties together when we finished our undergrad, and at the party we all had a surprise reveal about the grad schools we were headed to.
The shock on our faces was absolutely hysterical when we all revealed we would be going to NYU at the exact same time. There were a lot of tears from all of us.
Sam and I had the exact same major throughout undergrad, and though he was absolutely the smartest of the two of us, I was able to graduate early because of the amount of extra credits I took at Clemson. He was super jealous.
Tommy was an art major in school, mainly studying graphic design, and despite his hatred for coding, he was very good at it. Getting into NYU was a huge accomplishment for him, especially since he struggled a lot in his undergrad. Sam and I tried not to look too surprised but I don't think anything could have prepared us for that news.
I laid down, thinking about Sam, Tommy, and Blake and thanking whatever godly being above for giving them to me.
I wake up to the tail end of my ringtone, immediately shooting out of bed and frantically searching through my sheets for the device.
When I finally find it, there is a missed call and text from Blake reading; “Don't worry, I was just wondering what you were going to do about the fit for tomorrow, but I called Tommy and he filled me in.”
I sigh in relief, mainly worried something bad had happened or that I missed a call from Ashton or anyone pertaining to that job.
I lay back down, and open my phone to twitter and see what’s on the feed. Tweets about news, gaming, 5sos, and anime cover my front page and I scroll mindlessly, before landing on a video of the band that makes me stop.
It looks like one of them must have posted this on their Instagram, and a fan account reposted it here. I open the video and turn the volume up a bit.
“Can we get a hoo-rah for day one of finding a new manager?” I recognize Calum’s voice. Ashton and Luke laugh and cheer for the camera out of synchrony while Michael tugs at the neck of his shirt and holds a middle finger to the camera. “I’m excited for this weekend,” Calum’s voice continues, “Hopefully we will be able to update you guys soon!” He zooms into his face so much, the only thing left on the screen is a dimpled smile.
I look through a few comments, “I really hope whoever gets a job is a lot nicer than that old motherfucker,” and “I hope they're good, I wonder what this weekend has to do with it,” and a reply to that, “apparently there’s a second round of interviews this weekend. I think it's the last one.”
One thing I’ve learned from being in the fandom for over 10 years, is that fangirls find out about everything. It makes me feel a little bad for the band, but I also have a lot of ideas on how to help regulate the news streams.
I switch over to Reddit to check what they might be saying about this video on there. The video is posted under the “discussion” flair with the question, “How do you think this new manager search is going?”
The comments on this post were much more detailed which I appreciate, since I am very curious to know how the fans are feeling about this.
“I put in an application, honestly just to see if I would get a random call or email from one of the boys LOL”
A reply to that, “That was stupid, I feel really bad for their HR team having to look over thousands of applications because of people like you. I'm pretty sure it took them months. I wonder how many it's been narrowed down to.”
I continue reading, “My sister's boyfriend's dad works in the building they held the interviews in and according to him, they only interviewed around 14 people, and only 4 made it to the second round of interviews.”
I glance up at the time and jump out of bed realizing it's already 1:15pm and Sam and Tommy are picking me up around 3.
I rush into the shower and wash my hair before blow drying it and round brush curling the fringe bangs that line the top of my wavy jet black hair. I put on a little more makeup than usual, opting for foundation, concealer, light eyeliner and mascara, with a glossy lip instead of the usual concealer and mascara. I want to look and feel good when I try the dresses on today.
I check the weather app, learning that it is going to be a really nice 75℉ outside today so I put on some biker shorts and an oversized blue Santa Cruz tee shirt I stole from my brother years ago. I pull my hair into a claw clip and top my look with a pair of white sunglasses and white sandals.
I finish getting ready around 2:30 so I grab some overnight oats and a glass of water before settling down in front of my TV to eat while I wait.
Halfway through the very intense episode, I get a call, snapping me out of my trance, “Hey, Tommy got out of class early so we’re about 3 minutes out. You ready?” I hear Sam’s voice on the other end. I mumble a yes through a mouth full of yogurt before hanging up and walking to the elevator.
I get into the car, and sit in the middle seat as both boys turn to me and scream incoherent congratulations and praise.
“Thank you thank you,” I gush, reaching out to squeeze both their shoulders. “I can’t even imagine how excited you were when you found out, I’m honestly so upset you didn't tell us sooner,” Sam pouts, pulling out of the spot he picked me up from.
“I know, I know, but school just started for you guys and I didn't want to distract you too much with all of my drama,” I chuckle, “But I’ve missed you guys so much! How has school been?”
Sam goes off into a brief synopsis on how school has been going, followed by a very long and drawn out spiel from Tommy, who never seems to run out of words.
After 20 minutes, filled with Tommy’s rambling and background music we pull up to our first destination; Bloomingdales.
When we walk in, a few stylists look over to us before looking back at each other as if they're having some sort of battle over who gets to help us. After a few seconds, the tall blonde stylist walks over with a pinched smile.
She scanned me up and down, and it was then I realized the stylists weren’t fighting over who gets to take us, rather who has to take us. Our young age played a large factor in the stylist’s disdain, thinking that for sure we don't belong here.
“How can I help you sweetheart,” She asks in a fake polite voice. I sigh, looking at my friends before responding, “I have a black tie event tomorrow, I need a dress, shoes, and jewelry and my budget is around $600.”
The woman looks surprised, “$600?” Tommy pipes up, “Around $600,” he corrects, “It can be more if the outfit is worth it.”
I smile internally, knowing how much Sam and Tommy hate having to play the snobby rich kid, but they would do it any day if it meant defending me, and ensuring that I received the best service.
“Lovely,” the stylist says, guiding me to a fitting area. The boys take a seat in front of a set of mirrors, getting comfortable and pulling out their phones.
I stand on the piece of painted wood meant to elevate me slightly off the ground. “So tell me a little more about this event,” Miranda, the stylist who’s name I finally learned, asked. “Well I got an interview for one of the biggest jobs in the world and they have a second interview that’s tomorrow that is a black tie event where I will be able to meet and get to know the people I will be working with. It’s a little unconventional, but far more interesting than a normal interview.”
Miranda circles around me while I speak, eyeing me up and down while taking my measurements. “Well I’m sure we can find an adequate outfit for that. So we are thinking professional, but sexy, feminine, you want to stand out without being too out of line, correct,” Miranda asks. I smile softly and nod, grateful that despite her initial reaction to our youth, she at least knows what she's doing.
She closes the curtain around me, blocking me from the view of Tommy and Sam sitting in the plush black chairs, leaving me to undress.
I peel off my clothing and lay them neatly on the bench next to me, making it so that it will be easy to put back on.
Miranda comes back after a few minutes, “We’re going to focus on the dress first, then worry about shoes and accessories.” She hands me a dress through a small gap in the curtain and I grab the black satin.
It takes me a few minutes to figure out the way it fits on my body, but when I get it on it fits nicely around my torso.
I pull the curtain back, revealing myself to my friends. “This lovely plunge V-neck has a sleeveless back zip closure with front wrap detail at the skirt with the luxurious satin fabric is made by a female brand called Nookie.”
“Wow you're actually stunning,” Tommy calls out, “Agreed,” Sam adds with a low whistle. Miranda looks proud of herself, situating the dress around my body, making sure the trail and slit look good. “But it's going to be a no from us.”
Miranda whips her head around, staring at the boys in shock as I turn to face the mirror once again. While the dress is pretty, the plunging neckline is way too much for a potential work event. I look way too sexy and not professional enough.
“What else do you have for me?” I ask kindly, knowing once the boys say something, their word is law. I pull the zipper down, preparing to take the dress off. Though nothing is exposed, I see Sam and Tommy immediately look down at their phones.
Miranda walks away again after closing the curtain and letting me undress again. I hold the dress in my hands until she comes back with a gold metallic looking gown. I already don't like the color, but I slip the dress on over my body and open the curtains quickly.
“Ooooo, me likey,” Tommy leans forward placing his elbows on his knees. Sam puts his hand on his chest, blowing out a heavy breath, “That's… yeah, that's super hot.”
I turn to look at myself, the dress fits perfectly, the v-neck covering a lot more than the last dress and not going all the way down to my stomach, the pooled fishtail skirt and column silhouette hugged around my waist and thighs, making my curves look soft and plush, and the low back added a sexy aspect while not being too much.
“This dress is from Mac Duggal’s collection. Now, I think the fit is really lovely on you, and I think your friends agree, but how do you feel about the color?” Miranda asks, pulling the dress around the platform, making sure I could get a full view of it.
I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment. The dress is beautiful on its own, but the darkness of my skin clashes with the brassiness of the metallic gold. Had the dress been a regular sparkly gold, it would have been slightly better, but I strongly disliked the look of the metal against my skin.
“I don't think I’m a fan of the brassiness against my skin tone. I'm more partial to black, but I don't want it to be plain. Do you have anything that will fit like this with a black embroidery?”
Miranda’s eyes lit up and her mouth dropped open in an ‘o’ shape, as if a lightbulb appeared in her brain. She rushes away quickly after shutting the curtain.
A few moments after I take the gold dress off, Miranda returns and trades dresses with me.
I have to look at this one for a few moments to realize it's a halter top. I unclip the embellished neck piece before pulling the dress on and reclasping it around my neck. I softly gasp as I feel the dress hug my waist perfectly and comfortably. I don't even look in the mirror to get a full view of the dress but it’s already my favorite.
“Ms. Dawson, you ready?” I hear Miranda call out on the other side. “Oh yes, sorry,” I yell back, pulling the curtain back.
Three pairs of eyes stare at me in shock, and Tommy’s phone even falls out of his hand clattering to the ground.
“You guys,” I giggle, blushing furiously, before turning around to look at myself properly. “Kavya, y-you look incredible,” Sam stutters out. Tommy gulps and nods his head furiously in agreement.
I finally see what they're talking about. I don't think I’ve ever had a dress fit me so nicely. The collar of the halter neck piece was embroidered in lovely jewels that matched the outline of the slit that came up to my mid-thigh. The back was low enough to see the dip of my spine, showing a perfect amount of skin.
“Oh, wow,” I exhale, “It has to be this one, how much?”
“$360, let me go find you shoes, we can talk about jewelry in a second,” Miranda, scrambles away before popping her head back, “What size?”
“Eight,” I answer back, not breaking eye contact with my reflection. I really loved this dress. I had never felt more myself in a professional looking outfit than the way I did in this dress.
Miranda comes back with a pair of plain black strappy heels with a silver chain around the ankle that matches the color of the embroidery on the dress.
“So I was thinking,” Miranda says, as she helps me put the heels on, “That the only jewelry you’ll need is statement earrings or a bracelet, because you can’t really wear a necklace with this dress.”
I nod in agreement, standing straight in the heels and stepping off the platform. I take a few steps back and forth, making sure the shoes are comfortable and that I am able to walk in them.
“I am a huge fan of this, I’m so serious, I will actually cry if you don't buy this,” Tommy states, earning a nod from both Sam and Miranda. “No I completely-”
Sam’s voice is interrupted by his phone ringing in his hand. “Hey mom,” He answers, not holding it up to his ear, indicating it's a facetime. “Hey sweetie, what are you up to?”
I take some more steps in front of the mirror, moving and swaying to see how the dress moves around my figure as Sam explains to his mom what we are doing. Miranda leaves for a few minutes, presumably to find some jewelry that would go well with the outfit.
I come behind his shoulder, viewing the phone, “Hi Ms. Lauren!” I smile and wave, resting my arm on Sam’s shoulder. “Oh Kavya, sweetie you look absolutely stunning,” Ms. Lauren gushes. “Mom, she really looks fantastic, here, go stand over there so I can show her the whole thing.”
I stand in front of the boys as Sam flips the camera so his mother can see the entire outfit, including the shoes. I do a little twirl as muffled praises come out of the tiny device.
“So I have a few options here for earrings,” Miranda comes back with a velvety black jewelry box in hand. Tommy hops up and stands next to me as we both admire the pieces while Sam finishes the phone call with his mother.
There are some black and some silver, but the one that catches my eye has a bit of both. There are three tear shaped links, blac, then silver, then black again. They're not overwhelmingly big or heavy, but they dangle down perfectly.
I pull my hair back again, readjusting my claw clip before starting to unscrew the back of the earrings I currently have in. “What material are these made of? I have very sensitive ears, I can pretty much only wear solid gold like these,” I gesture to the earrings I pulled out of my ear, “or platinum.”
“The part that the earring is built off of is platinum, but the decorative part is stainless steel making it a little more economically friendly,” Miranda answers, “As of right now, with these earrings your total outfit is approximately $660, tax included. $360 for the dress, $175 for the shoes and $115 for the earrings.”
A grin breaks out across my face, “Miranda you are literally amazing, this is perfect,” I squeal, looking at my reflection again. “Tommy, can you grab my phone out of my purse and facetime my mom?”
“Aw why can't I facetime your mom?” Sam pouts, teasing me. I reach over quickly, grabbing his ear and pinching hard. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay okay I give!” He cries out and I let go.
Since we met, Sam has had the biggest crush on my mom, resulting in a lot of jokes and sexual innuendos, which admittedly are pretty funny. I just like to get on him for them.
“Hi Mrs. Gena!” I hear Tommy’s voice, “Hi nana, what's going on?” Tommy brings the phone over to me as he explains, “We’re at Bloomingdale with Kav, what do you think about her dress?”
He stands in front of me, flipping the camera over to me, moving around like a professional videographer, “Tommy-nana, I can't see anything with you moving around like that,” My mom's sweet voice calls out.
Before my mom can see me, Sam jumps between me and the camera, waving sweetly at the phone, “Hi Mrs. Gena!” I grab him by the back of his collar and pull him out of the way, also taking the phone out of Tommy’s hand. These boys are too much.
“Hey mom, what do you think?” I flip the camera so it's facing the mirror in front of me and hold it slightly above my head. “Oh wow, I actually like it a lot. It’s sleeveless though isn't it? What does the back look like?”
I sigh, knowing what's going to be coming next, “Mī cētulu bāgānē unnāyā?” (Do your arms look okay?) She speaks in her native language, hiding her words from Tommy and Sam who pout behind me. “They're fine, mom. It's not the end of the world if my arms show sometimes. And yes, it is backless.” I turn around, and flip the camera, holding it above my head again.
A few layers of skin fold over the others. Being a curvy girl comes with a little bit of extra meat on my bones which my entire family detests thoroughly. “Nēnu mī venuka rōls cūstunnānu,” (I can see the rolls on your back) she says again, making an unpleasant lump sit at the pit of my stomach.
I step away slightly from the boys and Miranda. “C’mon mom, it's really not that bad. I was lifting my arms up. It really doesn't look bad and the front of the dress looks fine,” I plead with her. “If you really like it go ahead and get it, I do like the way it looks, I just don't like how big your arms are going to look, even the skin showing in the back is fine as long as you don't lift your arms so the rolls show.”
“I do really like it,” I state, “Plus it’s tomorrow, I found a nice outfit in the budget, so I’m going to go ahead and get it.” I speak the words loud enough for Miranda to hear me so she can get ready at the register.
About 10 minutes later, the dress, shoes, and earrings are neatly wrapped in three boxes stacked on one another in Tommy’s hands as I pay the $658 bill.
Right before I put my dad's card in the chip, I hear the familiar melody of Youngblood play on the speakers in Bloomingdale’s. Miranda's eyes light up and she hums along as she types information into her computer.
“Are you a fan?” I ask with a smile on my face. “Of 5 Seconds of Summer? Yeah I’m a fan, my daughter is just plain obsessed with them,” Miranda answers, “Ever since Youngblood came out. We even saw them in concert last year.”
“Oh you're going to lose your mind,” Sam chuckles, suddenly very intrigued by the conversation I’m having. “Why?” Miranda cocks her head to the side. Sam looks at me, expectantly as I put the card in my wallet and wallet in my purse.
“That's actually the job I applied for,” I say, almost shy sounding. Miranda’s jaw drops to the floor, “The manager job I’ve been hearing about on Twitter? That's what this dress is for?”
“Yeah, and I really think you picked the perfect one,” I giggle at her awe. “I’m so glad I was able to help you today, Ms. Dawson, I hope you remember me when you're rich and famous.”
“Please, Miranda, it’s just an interview, but if I do get it, I’ll be sure to remember the person who gave me the most perfect dress ever,” I reach out and squeeze Miranda’s hand softly, expressing my gratitude.
“That was probably the most fun I’ve had on a shopping trip with you,” Sam states as he starts the car. “I agree, I also snuck a picture of you and sent it to Blake and they're absolutely flipping their shit right now, you should probably call them,” Tommy laughs loudly, scrolling through his text messages covered in what can only be described as Blake losing their mind over text.
As we drive, I pull my phone out and also see that my phone has been blowing up with text messages from my friend, including one that says, “I hate that I’m at school right now and I can't call you, but the second I get out, I’m calling you and were going to spend the entire time you get ready tomorrow on facetime.”
“Do you want to go back to your apartment now? It’s about 5, so I was thinking we could get dinner,” Sam inquires, making me look up from my phone. “Yeah, sounds good, I’m guessing you want Chick-fil-a?” I joke, teasing Sam for the 3 straight years when he wanted to get Chick-fil-a every single time we got a meal together.
“Hey, you know what, it’s like 40 minutes away from us, and just because of your attitude I’m considering it,” Sam holds up his middle finger at me in the back seat. “Wait, what about ramen?” Tommy offers, wrapping his hand around Sam’s middle finger, hiding the vulgar symbol.
“That sounds amazing to me, I just really don't want Chick-fil-a… or pizza,” I say the last part before Sam can suggest it, causing him to pout, “Fine, ramen is yummy. Not as yummy as pizza or Chick-fil-a, but yummy nonetheless.”
We drive as peacefully as one could possibly be driving in the city’s 5 o'clock traffic and it’s pretty close to 6 by the time we make it to the familiar ramen house.
so i know this chapter has some of a different language- that is Telegu, which is the native language to Kavya’s mother who is from India. It’s going to be used a lot when Kavya’s mother is speaking, especially when she wants to hide her little... remarks... from english speaking people.
please let me know if you have questions, comments, or concerns <3
