That Is Not My Name

The red-headed, blue-eyed, skinny young woman stared at herself in a cracked mirror in the Starbucks bathroom by Penn Station. Her summer internship was hopefully going to lead to a job at her favorite magazine, Bela. The magazine was dedicated to beautiful models — male and female — artists, and athletes from all over the world. Her dreams were weeks away from coming true yet as she looked at her pale face staring back at her, she felt nothing. The last seven years, she'd gone through the movements, doing what she was supposed to do, then rocking her parents' world by skipping college and taking an internship at a fashion magazine in New York City.

Anna Johnston, eighteen years old, had disappeared from Swiftwater, Pennsylvania with the money she had saved up from various miserable summer jobs. She missed her father, of course, but her mother was ultimately what shoved her out the door. Some things never change.

It was 7:30 a.m. and after splashing some water on her face and touching up her fading eyeliner from yesterday, she decided she looked good enough to enter her work building. Her eyes looked tired and empty, but they always did. They'd hired her that way, so why bother covering up now? She sighed as she took one last look in the mirror. Just as she reached for the doorknob, an angry slam startled her.

"GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM, LADY!"

Anna's eyes squinted, and her breath got heavier.

She yanked the door open so fast it made the woman step back.

Anna said through clenched teeth, "Go to hell," and rushed out into the streets of Manhattan, purposely bumping into the impatient woman on her way out.

Anna crossed a few streets, walked a few blocks, and ended up in front of the biggest building she had ever been inside. She didn't think it would ever stop being intimidating, but she didn't care. This is what dreams are made of, right?

She laughed to herself, remembering her clinical depression and anger issues, thinking they were not part of her dream, but no one is perfect. She still didn't buy that dreams come true, anyway.

Anna coasted through the double doors and straight to the small coffee stand in the lobby.

"Black coffee please, Arnold!"

Arnold looked up with a huge, shining smile. "Hey! It's my favorite intern! How's it going this fine Friday?"

Anna smiled back."Oh, you know, living the dream! And yourself?"

Arnold pursed his lips and announced to the lobby, "LIVIN' THE DREAM, BABY!"

The twenty or so people in the lobby laughed. Anna loved Arnold and to be honest, he was always the best part of everyone's morning.

"I'm happy to hear it, Arnold. Thank you for the coffee, Sarah will very much appreciate it."

Arnold laughed out loud. "I'll believe that when she comes down and tells me herself!"

Anna couldn't help but giggle. She'd learned to cherish the rare moments when she genuinely felt something, especially happiness.

"Stay cool, Arnold."

"Stay sweet, Anna."

They waved goodbye as Anna pushed her way into an elevator full of people in business suits blabbing on cell phones. It never bothered her — it was quite peaceful, actually, knowing no one was going to talk to her. Floor twenty-two rang, and she stepped out into a giant, bright office full of smiling faces that were hoping to make the world a little more "fabulous." It was the job she wanted, the industry she wanted, and it was all so easy to fake through. She genuinely loved what she did, but as a person with nothing left to give, she appreciated that she just had to smile and write. Always in her head: Just smile and write, Anna.

She walked directly to the biggest office on the floor, saying hello to the receptionist and everyone she crossed paths with. Her co-workers loved her because she was "funny." She thought it was ironic that she hated smiling and joking, but she was just so good at it.

It's a gift, she thought.

Or so that's what she'd been told her entire life. She thought her real gift was smiling and joking while feeling absolutely nothing inside. But no one likes a Debbie Downer, so she figured she'd keep that to herself.

She gently knocked on a door labeled, "Sarah Scott, Exec. Director."

"Come in, darling!"

Anna sighed, thankfully that Sarah was in a good mood. Sarah Scott could be your biggest fan or your biggest pain in the ass depending on how the caffeine hit.

Silently, Anna put Sarah's black coffee on her desk and set out her tiny, useless napkin and mixer next to it. Anna thought that Sarah didn't even like black coffee, but drank it to look cooler than she really was.

No one actually likes black coffee, she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes.

Anna turned to leave when she heard Sarah say her name.

"Anna, darling! Please sit!"

Anna froze for a moment, shocked that Sarah even knew her name, but she managed to turn around with a nervous smile on her face.

"Is everything ok, Ms. Scott?"

Sarah laughed like an evil queen and muttered, "Oh calm down, darling, you aren't in trouble. Quite the opposite really! Don't think I don't notice what goes on around here. I hear absolutely everything."

Anna gulped and spoke with a confused laugh. "That's um . . . good?"

"Indeed! Word on the street is that you love it here. You love working for me, but to be honest, who wouldn't?"

She let out a huge cackle that startled Anna, but she quickly started laughing anxiously along with her.

"Absolutely, I love it here. The rumors are true!" She squeaked out another chuckle.

Sarah belted, "HA! A COMEDIAN! I hear that rumor as well. It's good in this business: you can't take anyone too seriously. Except me. I'm your boss!" She laughed like a hyena again. Anna was wildly uncomfortable and prayed her boss would just get to the point.

"But, seriously, I think you will deserve a job here after the summer's end."

Anna's eyes slowly widened.

"This is something I cannot give you, however, until you write me something mind-blowing. What do you enjoy writing, darling?"

Anna knew her answer right away. "I love critiquing. I've been told I'm honest to a fault," she choked out. "I am afraid of nothing, Ms. Sarah. Nothing."

Critiquing was the closest Anna could get to being paid for being an asshole.

Sarah checked her out for a moment with judgmental eyes before exploding, "Fashion! Music! Restaurants! We'll take it all, yes!"

Anna was not sure how to respond. This woman was a breed of crazy she had rarely encountered.

Sarah, in a quieter voice, said, "Anna, I want you to interview Siobhan Wild next week."

Anna didn't think her eyes could get any bigger, but it turned out they could.

Siobhan Wild was a huge star in the modeling industry. She was everywhere: billboards, music videos. EVERYWHERE. Her enormous picture in the middle of Times Square was impossible to miss.

"Oh . . . wow . . . I don't know what to say, I mean—"

"Say 'thank you, Sarah, you are such a wonderful boss full of opportunity and fortune!'"

Anna looked down and laughed lightly, "Thank you, Sarah."

"You are welcome, darling! Now get out of here and start doing your research! Remember. I said mind-blowing, do not hold back. If you have any questions, figure it out yourself because I'm very busy and important!" She let out another ear-shattering cackle.

As much as Anna wanted to smack her, she decided to slide out of the room and grab her laptop from her desk instead.

The girls in the office were all looking at her like she was a celebrity. Or maybe they thought she got fired, but who cared? Anna was about to interview THE Siobhan Wild.

Suddenly, she could barely walk. She was breathing fast, thinking to herself, Oh shit! Oh shit, oh shit! What the hell am I supposed to say?! Why is this happening to me?! Am I happy? Am I freaked? I really don't know, but I can't breathe!

Anna darted through the office to the elevator, pushing the button hurriedly, dying to get home to work on her terrifying new assignment. The elevator came and she just about tackled everyone inside.

"Just get me out of here," she said under her breath.

Her hands were shaking, she was biting her lip. One more minute on this elevator and she thought she'd scream.

The doors opened at a glacial pace and as soon as she was free she sprinted across the lobby yelling, "Arnold! I'm living the dream!"

He replied, "Hell yes, kid! Go get 'em!"

Anna must've rammed into fifteen people on her way to the subway, which was not exactly abnormal for Manhattan, and as usual she didn't care. Could her life finally be changing?

Her thoughts were spinning as she bounced down the steps to the subway. Is this going to be my new world?

"A fashion critic," she softly squealed to herself.

"A fashion critic—"

She stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs leading to her train, which was now leaving her behind.

A voice was blowing through the air, a stunning singing voice that made her forget everything that had just happened. Her stomach churned, her eyes shot open, her body was stiff as a brick wall, yet somehow she managed to turn around and walk. Down the corridor she went, feeling like something reached in her stomach and ripped it out, her head turning the corner before her body did. Anna stood there and felt the blood drain from her face. A pretty but run-down-looking girl had just finished singing "Always On My Mind," a Willie Nelson cover, accompanied by her beaten up guitar complete with a sticker of The Sex Pistols, the phrase "piss off," and the name "Max" etched into it. Anna's mind flashed back to one of her favorite memories, an eight-year-old girl amazing the entire school in the spring talent show singing that very same song. A song she dedicated to her father. A song she dedicated to Jeremy Redding. Anna remembered her best friend looking straight at her during the thunderous applause and mouthing, "I love you, Anna!" with a smile on her face. The girl in the hallway had jet black hair, that's all Anna could see, but the girl . . . there was something about her. Something that felt so unbelievably familiar.

It's impossible, Anna repeated over and over in her head, but she couldn't shake this nagging feeling.

She didn't even know how she got up close enough to ask the girl a question. Her feet were gliding under her on their own. Anna found herself towering over this girl that would probably think she was a complete nut.

"Violet?"

Anna's voice sounded nervous as she tried to stop her body from shaking.

"Violet Redding?"

The girl jerked her head up quickly, but never turned around to look back at Anna. A few seconds passed when suddenly she sternly, almost angrily, said, "That is NOT my name."