Malaika was in the bathroom when her phone rang. With a brilliant white towel that had been barely wrapped around her chest, she rushed out her body dripping. The steam from the shower, was clearly leaving her body. Grabbing her phone that was shouting Jax Sloane. Without any second thoughts she jammed the phone between her shoulders and ear. Her eyes fixed on a blank spot on the wall 'Morning Jax.'
'Are you up yet?' he asked. From the way he was asking anyone could tell he was moving.
Before she could answer 'You've got 30 minutes. Plus minus 5. Meet me at Mall-Sphere, you need convincing outfits,' he ordered.
Scoffing 'But I have more than enough clothes.'
' I am not interested in your black attires. I need something that screams 'The moment. An Icon,' He stated with a smooth polished voice. When he speaks, it's like a hall of bullets__ precise, rapid and impossible to ignore. He doesn't talk at you; he delivers information. There are no "ums," "ahs," or filler words. He finishes a thought and immediately moves to the next, leaving no room for dead air.
'An outfit that screams the moment?' she whispered, her thumb hovering over the phone's screen. 'What moment?'
She lunged back toward her closet, pulled out a leather jacket, tennis skirt, corset bra and boots. All black. Since she had been given a plus or minus five of 30 minutes, she made sure to be ready in ten minutes and left her apartment.
The Mall-sphere is all brushed steel and echoing glass, a cathedral of 'prestige' that makes malaika feel like she's wearing her "… … black attires" as Jax had described them earlier on. At the far corner sat a man probably in his 30s. The first captivating idea about him apart from the obsidian black suit he had on, was the charcoal color of his hair, kept in a "purposefully messy" style. It looks like he just ran his hands through it, but it actually takes a high-end stylist forty minutes to achieve the effortless look. His predatory pale blue eyes. If he looks at you, you'd think he already calculated your net worth and your next three moves. That was Jax Sloane. He wasn't alone however. A young male, probably in his mid-twenties with clear-frame "blue light"glasses and a high end tablet glue to his hand. Cool messy hair but not Jax's style. Oversized tech-fabric shirts , cargo trousers and sneakers.
Once Jax lays his eyes on her he stands and begins to walk. The young man scurries to keep pace. Malaika wonders who he is but doesn't bother to ask. 'This is Theo, he's your shadow. He handles your schedule, caffeine etc etc ' Jax introduces the young man.
She giggles. 'A shadow? Do I really need one of those? I barely pay my bills on time...'
He stops and turns to her. With his left hand in his pocket, he uses the right one to talk. 'I'm sorry didn't I tell you?' she shakes her head. '… The Imperial,' he says stretching his hands towards Theo who pulls out a thick brown envelope that was beneath the tablet. Jax then passed it to Malaika. On it was a sharp, geometric crown made of three clean vertical lines. The central "peak" slightly taller and featured a small, subtle circle at the top, mimicking a camera lens or a "record" light. A bold, wide-spaced sans-serif font. The word IMPERIAL was written in all caps, with extra tracking (space between letters).
'We got the final cut protection. Huge. Massive.' He elaborated as he took the envelope and passed it back to Theo. In a busy hallway, full of people moving around both the singles and lovers, kids and grown-ups. She stood there like a zombie blinking her eyes. He leaned in closer to her and in a low tone that was somewhat convincing he said, 'You auditioned your soul. The imperial is not here to joke around. They loved the BL elements and they're film making the novel. Those papers in there are proof that you're officially an Executive Consultant. You get a say right from the beginning to the end.
Enthusiastically Theo interjected, the shark said and I quote, '…the yearning in Chapter 11 is high art.'
'Chapter 11!' confusion written all over her face. Who TF is the shark? She asked
Raising his eyebrows 'The Shark is the producer and chapter 11 is the rainy rooftop scene,' Theo clarified.
' How do you know about that scene?'
" Isn't it obvious? I am your fan. By the way nice to meet you,' smilingly
'Aww! It's an honor,' she said gladly.
'Enough.' Jax cut them short. 'That scene is the centerpiece. It's going to be in the trailer.' Immediately he walked away. His Italian leather loafers clicking a staccato rhythm against the marble.
Malaika's face was full of mixed emotions. Happy yet wanted to cry. A silvery tear rolled down. She never knew how to react. To scream, jump around. She never knew how to thank God. Things were finally working out.
Jax was not walking, he maneuvered. Scanning a rack of minimalist blazers "Not this. Too 'indie-author-at-a-library.' We need 'Power.' We need 'Creator.' You're the Architect of the Vision. You don't just write the book; you own the room." Timidly she laid her fingers on a silk shirt "Jax, Can't I just wear my nice jeans?
He stopped mid stride and turned to her. 'Jeans are for the writer's room. This is the Producer's office.' Tossing a structured black blazer over her arm. "You're being presented. There's a difference. The Producer—he's a shark. He smells 'unsure' from a mile away.
Several hangers in her arms as well as Theos. 'Go to the fitting room and give me a show.'
Argh! She groaned as she dragged herself to the far end. Jax, in short strides he followed them and sat outside the fitting room. After a minute she walked out in her first dress.
__'Too floral. Too 'Sunday brunch.' We're not doing tea. We're doing Development Hell,' he remarked. She groaned and went back.
__That's a liability. The shark doesn't see a writer he sees a brand.
__It's giving bystander. You're the source material.
'Am I being dressed for a war that I wasn't told about?" she complained as she walked back into the fitting room.
__Absolutely. You're a woman in a room full of men who think they know your characters better than you do. You don't just walk in there. You arrive.
After the tiresome of dressing and undressing, with the unending commentary from Jax. They finally find their style. Seven looks for seven days . All of them screaming I am the writer and I own the rights. They stood outside the clothes department as they awaited Theo to finish the payment. 'Where to next?' Jax asked immediately he came up to them carrying four package bags.
'We've got four more floors to hit before the mall closes, and her hair appointment is at six,' he replied.
'What!' she exclaimed. 'I won't have the time to celebrate with my friends.'
Jax grinned. He dropped his voice. 'You're making a movie, kid. Drinks are for people who don't have scripts to approve.' He walked away. He left them jobs dropped down.
A whole day of trying to build a wardrobe storyboard turned out successful. Despite the fact that they were exhausted. While in the Taxi back to Malaika's place Theo was busy swiping his tablet. 'Are you a robot?' she asked. He chuckled and kept swiping. She moved next to him and peeped over the tablet. 'What's that?' she asked again.
'A superstars schedule,' he replied.
'Mhh! So now I get to have one?'
'Now you'll never miss one. If the movie becomes a hit you'll be surviving on schedule's.'