The Girl Who Never Acts Like One

Chapter twenty-three: Metamorphosis

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

This afternoon, just right after calling her mother and telling her what she’s on now, Rhainne arrived in the agency building just the right time—or even way too early. No one—not even strict, gay director, Mr. Kernel—had arrived yet. Not even a single shadow of his.

Sure, she asked Clowy Arceo, his secretary awhile ago about to where he is, and she told her thatthe guy is still busy directing some other photo-shoot, and will still have another hour or maybe a couple of minutes, before he will arrive. Therefore, she has no other choice but to wait.

So, to busy herself—because she kind of find wifi boring for now—she find herself enjoying the various pictures taken from different photo-shoots hanging on the wall outside Mr. Kernel’s office. One picture was of the famous Kathryn Bernardo enjoying the windy air on a very high mountaintop. She had her hands casually on her hair, which went along with the playful weather, the view behind her, a perfect combination with her carefree pose. The next picture hanging next to hers, was of Sam Milby strumming a guitar. He was sitting on a staircase, his head bowed and seemingly focused only to what he was doing. This photo is in a vintage effect that when looked closely, seemed to give more of  high importance to one’s passion and talent.

Rhainne was never fond of artists—local or international—especially to what they’re stupidly doing like scripted interviews and photo-shoots. But now, she just finds these pictures amazing. Almost an endless stream of pictures of artists were hanging on this wall—Daniel Padilla, Sarah Geronimo, James Reid, Nadine Lustre, John Lloyd Cruz, Enrique Gil, Liza Soberano, Anne Curtis, Angel Locsin, Kim Chiu, Maja Salvador, Piolo Pascual, Coco Martin, Gerald Anderson, Julia Montes, Julia Barreto, Erich Gonzales, Enchong Dee—until she came to the last one: the bastard and Joanne.

The previous pictures were seemingly only passive to her, for she was no fan, nor critic to these artists. She doesn’t really care about those famous Kathniel and Jadine fan clubs or whatever. But now, for some stupid, she-seriously-doesn’t-understand reason, this much, much more famous loveteam of Ian and Joanne, just hit her…somewhere.

                “Earlier than I expected from you, Rhainne Vergara,” came a voice from behind, “Both of you seem like a good match though.”

                She felt her cheeks warm, and before she could even say a word and explain that he just got EVERYTHING WRONG, he appeared. Mr. Kernel.

                “A-ahm…i-it’s n-not w-w-what y-you t-think i-it i-is, Dire—”

                “I am a director, Rhainne—and more in the genre, Romance and Comedy, in fact. Therefore, I know chemistry more than what you think….Even if I’m gay.”

                Now you’re the one who said that, Rhainne thought.

                “Now we’ve got a lot of things to discuss,” the director continued with a sweet smile, “Please step inside the office.”

                Moments later, Rhainne find herself sorrowing over some stupid 6-inches-heels and damn mini-skirt that is for God’s sake—5 inches above her knees! Now, is this what ‘a lot of things to discuss,’ suppose to mean? Freak.

                She walked back and forth across the room, her annoying skirt billowing behind her. She knows how to walk, of course, but the main, stupid problem is that, Direk Kernel just kept barking commands. It’s so ear-deafening and annoying, that if only she could—she would really throw these damn heels and stupid dress out of the window.