The Popstar's Star

Chapter 3: So, I have a new thing for underwear models...

"Thirty-six, Crazy Lane." I read aloud the address on the piece of paper, Mom gave to me. It was actually Cagney Lane, but I didn't care. Ever since I left my house, I was in a crappy mood as it was, everything might as well be upside down.

Getting out of my car, I slammed the door shut, a bit harder than I'd intended, and looked around the area. The GPS had lead me to a side of town, I'd never been to before. Unlike the rows of identical, picturesque houses in my neighborhood, here, each house had a beautiful, yet unique, architectural pattern, especially the one I was staring at right now.

It was two-story building, and it had this English vibe, with its red brick walls and tall, intimidating black doors. The off-white paint coated on each side, bore the number '36' on it.

I climbed the small staircase, leading to the front door, and then at the top, I tentatively knocked on the large knob. But as I attempted to step back a little, I saw that the door had opened slightly with my effort. Cautiously, I glanced around, but when I didn't see anyone, I held my breath, pushing the door wider.

The place was large, I figured it was about half the size of a ballroom, but it was empty, without even a piece of furniture in sight. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided the only source of illumination to the area, and the wooden-paneled floors gleamed, as if from a recent polish.

"Hello?" I called out, hearing my voice echoing off the walls. Gripping on to my bag's shoulder strap, I walked further down until I reached the middle of the floor.

I was turning to leave, when I heard a faint noise coming from a small opening that I later realized, lead to a hallway. The noise kept getting louder, as I approached another door. When I pushed it open, it was a pleasant surprise that this place was the exact opposite from the front of the building.

People were buzzing around in different directions, and I noticed a few women clustered by what looked like a makeup station. There were logos on the backs of the t-shirts they wore, but I couldn't really make much out of it, because of the distance, some other people were seated, by a set of computers.

What really caught my attention, however, was the large white canvas standing upright near a wall, taking up a lot of space, and there were overhead lights on each side. It was only then I realized that, I was at photo studio.

But I still couldn't find my dad anywhere. I took out my phone, dialing his number, but as always, his phone line was busy. Frustrated, I put my phone back into my purse, trying to catch someone who could let me know if I was in the right place.

No one even looked my way, but fortunately, I spotted someone like me—standing alone. He was wearing black-rimmed glasses, that matched his black blazer and he was holding a folder in his hand.

But when I approached him, I noticed that he seemed agitated as he stared off in the distance. I followed his line of sight, and saw a man with greying hair, cursing vehemently in a foreign language into his phone. He was hysterical and I felt sorry for the person on the other line.

I tapped his shoulder. "Excuse me?"

He shook a bit, straightening himself. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Well, I hope so. I'm looking for Larry Schneider, do you know if he's here?"

The guy in glasses, looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh, Mason McKnight's manager?" When I nodded, he continued. "Yes, he's around."

I let out a sigh of relief.

"Although, I'm sure where exactly. But come with me, I'll take you to one of the changing rooms, you can wait for him there."

"Thanks, a lot," I said, following him down another hallway. The building was starting to feel like a labyrinth. "So, what's the photo shoot for?" I tried to make conversation.