‘Great, I think we’re done?’ Violet looks up to me for confirmation.
‘I’ve got loads I can work with here.’
‘Do you fancy a late lunch?’ she asks Chip. ‘Maybe you could work from home this afternoon, Jasmine?’
Um, yes please! If I whizz through these edits then I might just have time to get going on my own website!
I am bringing my A game today. No, wait, my A-plus game. I haven’t felt this fired up in a long, long time. Probably hit my peak when I was offered the place at Bede Academy, tbh. It feels like things have been on a downward slope since I had to call them and turn it down. I couldn’t skip off to America when Mum was at home, shell-shocked and sad.
Notthat there’s any point in dwelling on that right now. Because today, Jasmine is going to slay! If there’s one thing I love, and I *think* I’m good at, it’s taking photos.
There’s just one hurdle to jump first. WTF do I wear? Choosing an outfit for a job interview is a total minefield. I imagine it’s a lot more simple if you’ve got a sensible job or, better still, something with a designated uniform. But photographer? I don’t have an office and if I turned up in a pencil skirt I’d get laughed out the building. Then again, I can’t wear my grubby old trainers and jeans with holes in, can I? After an embarrassing amount of time spent trying on all the clothes I own, I’ve opted for some black, wide-legged capri pants and a black cotton shirt. I’ve stuck my new gold necklace on and added a pair of black loafers. There’s not really much I can do about the shabby emerald green backpack which holds my camera, but I did give my face a few extra minutes in front of the mirror this morning. I’m wearing eyeliner! On a school day! And a smidge of lipstick!
Feeling all kinds of enthused, I hop off the tube and stride through Soho. Mila’s ‘constructive criticism’ is still ringing in my ears and I am having a bloody good go at believing in myself.
I can do this!
I will bag this job!
I. . . ooh, a newsagent’s!
With at least ten minutes to spare before I’m due to meet up with Becky and her boss I slink into the shop, that familiar smell of paper and chewing gum filling my nostrils, and gravitate towards the magazine stands. Soho newsagents always have the best magazines. Totally niche and one hundred pounds a pop, but you feel incredibly arty when you’ve got one in your paws.
Becky’soffice is not nearly as intimidating as I thought it might be. It’s actually super chill to the point of being odd. I’ve been ushered into a deckchair next to a bright pink flamingo, there’s fake grass under my feet and a couple of employees are having a game of ping pong in the corner. I think they’re brainstorming? Also, there’s a juice in my hand with one of those little cocktail umbrellas poking out of it.
The receptionist sticks her head around a tropical palm tree and calls to me. ‘Becky and Jade are ready to see you. Get the lift up to the third floor and it’s the first office on the right.’
By the time I reach their floor I’m starting to feel like I actuallyamon holiday. Until Becky opens the door to her office and I hear boss Jade bellowing from inside.
‘SEND HER BLOODY IN WE HAVEN’T GOT ALL SHITTING DAY HAVE WE?’
I freeze. Becky flinches and pushes me through the doors. It’s a little bit different in here. Gone are the palm trees, the deckchairs and those adorable plastic flamingos. In this office, everything is white. White leather chairs. White desk. Heck, even the pencils are white. Behind the white desk sits Jade, a beautifully blow-dried mane of brown hair cascading around her shoulders. She’s wearing a white dress (because obviously) accessorised only with her golden, tanned skin. She looks like an angel.
‘Shall we get the fuck on with this?’ she barks, instantly losing the halo-status. Jade motions for me to sit down and for Becky to shut the door in one fell swoop of her hand.
Becky pulls me down next to her.
‘Jasmine, welcome to Buzz. I’ll cut to the chase. We were impressed with the photos you organised for the swimwear campaign with Violet. From what I hear, you managed to turn a dogs’ dinner into something quite stylish. I’m sure Becky’s filled you in on our new relationship with Jump so, tell me, what could you bring to the campaign?’ She asks, laying abright white pencil down on her empty desk and piercing me with her icy blue eyes. They’re so blue and mesmerising, surely they have to be coloured contacts?
Focus, Jasmine! Do not fudge this up!
I clear my throat.
‘I have a lot to offer,’ I reply, surprising myself with how confident my voice sounds. ‘I’ve been working with Violet for years now and her Instagram feed, which I manage, has proved hugely popular. I guess my pictures help to engage people?’
‘But there’s a difference between taking pictures of someone farting about sipping coffee all day long to creating engaging content for a fabulous fashion brand. Could you deal with the change of style?’
‘Absolutely,’ I nod, perhaps a bit too much. My head’s bounding up and down like one of those nodding car toys and Becky gives me a sharp nudge in the ribs. I try to control my neck muscles.
‘I also take pics for my own platforms which are totally different. I go for more arty shots. I don’t have the time to post as much as I’d like but–’
‘Would you have the time for this campaign, then? The shoot alone will take three days, and then there’s the planning.’
‘Definitely.’ I can worry about dealing with Violet another time.
‘Okay. Well I’ve got to say that I’ve been impressed with what I’ve seen from you so far. I’m taking a chance on you, Jasmine. Don’t fuck this up. Becky, anything else?’
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. My stomach’s doing somersaults and my head’s started bobbing around again in excitement. Jade looks wildly displeased. I turn to Becky with a huge smile on my face and she’s grinning right back.
