‘Oh, really. Thanks, man, I’ll just get dressed, then.’ I kick the suitcase I’ve emptied all over the floor hoping for some inspiration.
‘That would be good considering we needed to leave five minutes ago.’
‘Shit!’
‘I could hear you having some kind of crisis in here, so I thought I’d see if I could help?’
I’ve had every pair of jeans and trousers on my body, but nothing looks right. My shirts are too sheer, too tight, too bright, too… not quite right. I’ve walked runways in some of the most uncomfortable outfits in the world, yet I can’t bring myself to wear my normal clothes for this dinner with friends.
‘Nothing looks right,’ I grumble, knowing exactly how pathetic it sounds.
‘I saw you wear those black jeans just the other night and they looked fine.’
‘Yeah, I was hoping for something a bit better thanfine, young one.’ Since when is lookingfineconsidered Johannes-worthy?
‘What about the navy trousers with the pleat in the front? They look good on you. With a white T-shirt? This dinner isn’t fancy, right?’ He peers down at his baggy, mid-wash blue jeans and basic tee, and the black bomber jacket tossed over his shoulder. It’s very Nils; it suits him. I wouldn’t wear it, but the late-teen skater style works on him with his baby face and white-blond hair.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘So why does it matter? Unless… are you looking to get laid tonight?’
‘No,’ I fire back almost immediately, which doesn’t help my case at all. ‘No, I’m not, but you know the cameras will be crawling tonight with all of the top three hanging out, and I finally feel like I’m in a much better headspace, so I don’t need someone tearing apart my outfit.’ The words feel gross on my tongue. I never normally give a fuck about what the press think of my clothes. I’ve always been known to dress quite androgynously and never felt pressure to change that.
Yet I am, surrounded by mountains of the clothes I would never normally let touch the floor. ‘Fuck! This is such a mess. I haven’t even moisturised yet.’ I flop down dramatically on the bed.
‘Ok, well, tidying up will have to wait. You go and moisturise and I’ll pick out an outfit for you.’ I glare at him, but he just shoos me into my en suite. I can’t believe I’m letting Nils pick my outfit, but my brain is so overwhelmed right now, and I desperately want to hold on to my good mood.
I take a minute at the sink, forehead pressed against the cool glass. Even my skin looks dry because I haven’t taken very good care of myself recently. I don’t know why I’m freaking out. I got P2 today, and this is a night out with my closest friends. Why am I so stressed?
‘Get your shit together, Johannes,’ I say to my reflection before opening my skincare fridge and grabbing my moisturiser and eye cream. I cleanse first, the icy cold water making me feel a little more alert, before I slather my face in luxury.
Finally, my skin has that signature glossy, brown Johannes glow that not even an outfit picked by Nils can dull.
‘Thirty seconds to get dressed!’ Nils calls from the doorway, tapping his Rolex.
‘Who put you in charge?’ I reply, before grabbing the black silky trousers he’s left out for me with one of my favourite Gucci belts to accessorise. ‘Not bad, young one.’ His smile grows and he finally leaves me to it.
I pair it with the soft-pink crisp cotton shirt Nils has selected. I’m surprised and impressed. Leaving several buttons open, I pull on the white trainers I got from a sponsored ad I did a couple of months ago. One final glance in the mirror and damn, I look hot.
‘Let’s go!’ I call out, grabbing my wallet and phone from the dresser. ‘Come on, why aren’t your shoes on? Get moving.’
‘I hate you!’ He reaches down to pull on his trainers, before eying me. ‘I did good, huh? You look great. All the men will be dying to take you back totheirstonight.’ Is that a hint, I think.
‘You did okay, now move your ass. I’m surprised Harper’s not blowing up my phone right now.’ Right on queue it buzzes in my hand and we both laugh. ‘You’ve sorted us an Uber right?’ He blanches and I take that as a no. ‘So you rushed me to get ready and we can’t even leave? Do I have to do everything around here?’
‘Jeez, give me a break.’ He’s lucky I’m fond of him, but I’ve got a fair bit of making up to do after the way I’ve been acting recently so I let it go.
‘Right, it’s two minutes away. You got your wallet? I’m not covering you again tonight when you conveniently forget.’ He flashes it from the small bag slung across his chest. ‘Good, now move it!’
It’s a quick car ride over and before I know it, we’re pulling up at the restaurant-bar Harper’s chosen for the occasion.
‘Oh, is that Caleb? Did you invite him?’ Nils asks as we linger by the bar, my eyes scanning for our table. They quickly fall on his ginger curls that for once don’t look crushed and sweaty after being stuck under an RBF hat. Whatever product he’s using is really working for him right now.
His lean body looks great in the denim jacket he’s rocking, sunglasses that he definitely doesn’t need tucked into the breast pocket.Okay, Caleb. I see you.
‘Yeah, yeah, I didn’t think you’d want an evening with Ian, so I didn’t extend the invite. But Caleb’s cool, right?’ I look to him before we make our way to the table, and he glances back and forth between Caleb and me.
‘Mmmhmm.Coooool.’
