Apple's Angst (8 page)

“You screw up at
Angst
and it could be the end of your career in magazines and television forever.”

Fancy Nancy's warning (or was it a threat?) raced through Apple's head as she worked her way through the maze of hallways to get back to the reception area. She was serious, this Fancy Nancy. Suddenly Apple couldn't help feeling in her gut that there wasn't anything she wanted to do more with her life than work in magazines and on
Angst TV
, just to prove to this
Fancy Nancy—and everyone else, including herself—that she could do it.

It would be a good challenge for Apple, to say the least. She had never even had a part-time job before. But there was something about Fancy Nancy that not only terrified her but also made Apple want to impress her.

Apple made it back to the reception area and saw Morgan, the receptionist. But her mother was nowhere to be seen. Apple was annoyed. Her feet were killing her. She wanted to leave NOW.

Just as she took a seat to wait for her mother to appear, a super-cute guy who was walking out, one Apple could swear she had seen before, momentarily distracted her. Then it hit her. Oh, my God, thought Apple.

Was that What's-his-name walking past her, leaving the
Angst
offices? No, it couldn't be. But was it? Apple could have sworn she saw—Oh God,
what's his name?
That guy on that music video channel who interviewed all those famous musicians? Happy would know his name. It was on the tip of Apple's tongue. Happy had forced Apple to watch the show—it was one of her favorites—more than once. It aired daily right after her mother's show, on a different channel. What's-his-name was cuter in person but shorter than he looked on television.

According to her mother, most television personalities were shorter in person (and also had bigger heads).

“I dig your hair,” said What's-his-name, smiling at Apple. “It's very cool.” Apple blushed. What's-his-name smiled at her again, this time for what seemed like a while. He looked down at her—rather, Happy's—boots
and smiled appreciatively. She almost jumped back as he reached out and pulled one of her boings.

“Cute!” What's-his-name said. Apple didn't mind that someone she just met had pulled on one of her curls without asking.

Apple called out, “Thanks!” but wasn't sure if What's-his-name heard her. He had already walked out. This day certainly has been strange, thought Apple, wondering if she had dreamed What's-his-name's presence.

“Hey, Morgan,” Apple said, trying to be brave. She would have to see Morgan a few days a week, so Apple knew it would be better to start off on the right foot and at least try not to be as shy as she really was.

“How did it go?” asked Morgan, seemingly sincere. Then she whispered, “I know Nancy can be harsh.”

“Well, it went,” Apple responded. “I think it was okay. I'm supposed to get a card from you.”

“Yup. Already done. Here's your pass. Every time you come in, you swipe this card and the office doors will open for you. Nancy explained that you'd be meeting Michael tomorrow, right? You look a little wary,” Morgan said, eyeing Apple. “Don't worry. Michael's a charmer. You'll love him. He's a true doll. Everyone adores him.”

“I'm fine. It's just that Nancy was a little …” Apple didn't know exactly how to describe how she felt, and she certainly didn't want to say anything that might offend Morgan or get back to Nancy.

“I know. Like I said, she can be … well, harsh. But that's why
Angst
is the number-one-selling teen magazine in the country. You don't get to be the editor of
something like this unless you're harsh. You can't be a success unless you really are forward-thinking and make sure people hear you. But don't worry. She's a teddy bear underneath. Or at least that's what all of us employees say. We
say
it. We're not sure if it's true, though,” Morgan laughed. “With
Angst TV
launching, she's under extra pressure.”

Apple didn't want to talk about Fancy Nancy anymore. She wanted to know about What's-his-name, the cute guy she'd seen on television who had complimented her, pulled her hair, and smiled at her.

“Um, that guy who was just leaving. Was that … ?” Apple asked. “My brain is totally fried. I can't remember his name.”

“Sloan Starr? Yup, that was him,” responded Morgan. “Cute, huh?”

T
hat's right, thought Apple. Sloan Starr! She wanted to slap herself on the head. How could she have forgotten his name? Happy is going to be so jealous, she thought. She'd have to play it down. It was enough that Apple was going to work here, let alone actually meet celebrities. It would put Happy over the edge.

“What was he doing here?” Apple asked Morgan, trying to not sound overly curious. She knew if she didn't get the details, though, Happy would kill her.

“Oh, celebrities come by a lot to meet with our editors. They think it will help them get good press if they meet us in person and take some photos with us,” Morgan explained. “You'll get used to it. Think of it as a perk of the job,” she added, with a wink.

“Does it?” wondered Apple. “Does it help them get into the pages of
Angst?”

“What do you think? Of course it does. They're nice
to
Angst
, and
Angst
is nice to them. Plus, all the fabulous musicians love Sloan, so we love him too.”

“He said he liked my hair,” she admitted, realizing she was smiling.

“Oh, no. You already have a celebrity crush and you haven't even started here yet! Be careful,” advised Morgan. “He's known as a womanizer. But then again, what male celebrity isn't? I have a rule to never date anyone in the entertainment industry. They're too self-obsessed.”

“He only said he liked my hair!” Apple said, defending herself. “Don't worry. I have a boyfriend.”

“You don't fool me,” responded Morgan playfully but knowingly. “You're all flushed. I can tell you've just been bitten by the celebrity bug! It's always exciting to meet your first celebrity in person. Well, aside from your mother.”

As if! thought Apple. She wouldn't admit just how out of touch she was with the world of celebrities. In fact, Apple was thinking it might be a good idea to ask Happy to give her a crash course on that world and tell her what websites she should be checking out.

“Speaking of celebrities,” Apple said, “do you happen to know where my mother is?”

“Last I saw her she was regaling a group of fans in the kitchen with stories of the best and worst of the
Queen of Hearts
. I wish I could have stuck around, but if Nancy saw me away from my post, she'd kill me. I have to be at her beck and call practically 24/7. People just love your mother, don't they?”

“Yes,” Apple said, trying to put on the kindest smile
she could muster. It was so like her mother to get all the attention on the day that was supposed to be about her.

“Take a seat and I'll go find her,” Morgan said.

Apple noticed another girl, sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine. She looked around Apple's age, even though she was wearing a lot of makeup. The girl looked at her briefly, just long enough to give Apple a disgusted sneer before going back to her magazine. Apple knew it had to be Emme, the other intern Fancy Nancy had talked so glowingly about.

What is up with her? Apple wondered. She couldn't deny it. Even with all that makeup, the girl was pretty. She was more than pretty—Emme was in Happy's league of pretty. She was wearing something way more fabulous than Apple was. She looked as fashionable as Morgan and even Fancy Nancy. Clearly, Emme wasn't as insecure as Apple either. She seemed calm and collected, as if she did these kinds of meetings just as often as she brushed her teeth.

Apple wondered if she should introduce herself. She hated herself for even wondering. She hated that she was so shy. She always had. She had to—had to!—get over her shyness. She was now an employee—well, an intern—at
Angst
magazine. She was part of the
Angst
family, and weren't you supposed to be nice to other family members? Apple knew she would have to stop being so self-conscious if she was going to make it in this business, or at least make a good impression. Plus, the fact that Sloan Starr had just been so nice to her had given her a confidence boost that surprised even her.

And what was it Happy had said? That she had to be a “better version” of herself? What better time to actually be a “better version” of herself, even a new version of herself, than right now?

“Hi,” Apple said quietly, taking a seat near the girl. The girl clearly hadn't heard her, because she didn't look up from reading. Apple's voice had sounded like a frog's croak. She cleared her throat.

“Hi, I'm Apple,” she said, this time more loudly. “Are you Emme? Is that short for Emma?”

Again, the girl didn't look up from her magazine instantly, as Apple assumed she—or anyone—would when someone says hi and offers an introduction. When Emme finally did glance up at Apple—after what seemed like a minute—she looked bored.

“Yes, I'm Emme,” she answered, her tone flat. “And, no, it's not short for ‘Emma.' It's just Emme, like the letter.”

“Oh! You're going to be interning here too, right? Nancy was just talking about you. We're going to be working together,” Apple said. She knew she sounded childish and geeky and nervous.

“Exciting,” Emme said, sounding anything but excited.

Luckily, Dr. Berg finally appeared. Emme went back to reading and didn't look up again.

“Ready?” Dr. Berg asked. “I think you're going to have a wonderful time here. The people are so nice. And I met a very nice young man who apparently is on television too. His name was Sloan … Sloan something.”

“Sloan Starr,” Apple finished for her, acting as if her mother should know who he was, even though
Apple hadn't remembered his name herself. “He hosts
Rock the Clock,”
Apple said. “He's very famous. His show airs right after yours. Happy loves him. He interviews musicians.”

“Ah, my baby gets her first job. I'm so proud of you,” her mother said, pushing Apple's hair behind her shoulders. It was all Apple could do to stop from slapping her mother's hand away. “Just think of all the interesting people you're going to meet, including celebrities!” her mother continued. “It's so exciting!”

Apple glanced at Emme, who gave her a look that clearly said, “You brought your MOTHER to a job interview? What a loser!”

Emme, unlike the others, appeared not to notice just
who
her mother WAS. If she did recognize Dr. Berg, she didn't seem to care. For some reason, it bothered Apple that this Emme didn't notice or seem to care.

Apple wanted to explain to Emme about the boots and how they hurt so much and that that was the reason she brought her mother in with her. But Emme, her new co-worker, seemed far from friendly. In fact, she seemed scarier than Fancy Nancy.

“Emme?” Morgan called out as Dr. Berg and Apple were leaving. “Nancy will see you now. I'll take you there.”

Apple couldn't help but look at Emme, who must have been 5 foot 10, as she got up gracefully, like an elegant safari animal. Her legs seemed to go on forever in her fishnet stockings. Her stiletto heels didn't seem to bug her at all, even though Apple was in pain just seeing her walk in them. Emme straightened the flowery
silk scarf around her neck and gave Apple a quick look before picking up what looked like a very professional portfolio. She smirked at Apple as she passed by. She smirked! Emme was treating her like a pestering younger sister.

“That girl certainly has attitude,” her mother whispered. So Apple was right. She wasn't being paranoid. Even her mother noticed!

This job just became even more challenging—and not in a good way, thought Apple as they made their way back to the car. She wondered if this whole working-at
-Angst
thing was one big mistake. Even though she had been excited just a few moments earlier, she couldn't help but wonder if she
did
have what it took to make it in this business. What if she had to deal with people like Emme, and their attitudes, every day? It wasn't worth it, thought Apple, even if she would get to meet celebrities in person. So not worth it.