“Everyone does.”
“I’m sorry it took me the best part of a week to come around.”
“It’s fine.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“How big is the queue?”
“Huge. But it’s a fun area to stand around in.”
“Oh? How come?”
“There’s tons of graffiti. Some of it’s amazing. Hang on.” I took a photo on my phone and sent it to him via text message.
McKay’s Models was on a road off the main high street through Shoreditch. I’d walked from Liverpool Street Station. It might not have been the fastest route, but it was a fascinating one. The buildings had initially been tall, flashy skyscrapers. When I got to Shoreditch, the skyline changed dramatically. At one point, there had been modern skyscrapers on one side of me and quirky buildings at least twenty or thirty years old on the other. There was graffiti everywhere, all in vibrant colours.
The building housing McKay’s Models was made out of bricks painted black. The windows had black frames, giving them an industrial feel. There was a huge graffiti mural on the first floor of a black-and-white Ace of Spades, surrounded by a yellow circle and then a red one. Six black figures were running around the yellow circle, with their feet almost touching the central motif. That was what I’d taken a picture of.
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Dillon said. “How close are you to the door?”
“Umm, about twenty people away.”
“Ouch.”
“There are a lot more people behind me.”
After my first open call at ICE, I realised I had to get to the open calls super early. But even setting off an hour earlier than I had for ICE, I was still by no means the first. It made me wonder if some of the wannabe models ahead of me had spent the night queuing outside the modelling agency. If they had, that was some serious dedication.
I glanced up and down the line. I’d been hoping to see Seth, but there was no sign of him. He could have been in the queue around the corner. He’d been at every open call so far, so it was strange not to see him. I hoped it meant he’d already been signed.
“They’re opening the door,” I whispered to Dillon.
“I’ll leave you to it. Good luck. You’ve got this, Jae. You’re amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“Text or call as soon as you’re done to let me know how it went. Uh, after you’ve let Xander know, obviously. Damn, this really is going to take some getting used to.”
“I will.”
“Good luck.”
“You’ve said that already. Twice.”
“Then I’ll say it again. Good luck.”
The phone line went dead, and I noticed I had a text from Xander. It was a good-luck text, including a selfie of him grinning and giving me a thumbs-up signal.
Jae:They’re starting to let people in. Dillon called. I think everything’s going to be okay.
Xander:Fantastic. I knew he’d come around.
Jae:You hoped.
Xander:I hoped right.
I laughed and put my phone away. I stood tall, rolled my shoulders back, and shuffled forward. They let people in one by one until the queue decreased by five, and then there was a wait. About an hour later, the first group was shown out, and another five wannabe models were invited in, one at a time.
As I got closer to the doors, I noticed a little bronze plaque on the wall with the McKay’s Models’ logo. My pulse started to race. This was it. Soon, I’d be stepping inside the modelling agency I wanted to work for more than any other. I tried not to get my hopes up. It was only my fourth open call. I’d probably have to go through this dozens of times before I got signed. But I really, really, really wanted to get signed by McKay’s.
