Love In First Class

Episode 1

I step through the door of my apartment, relief floods through me like a wave crashing against the shore. The hall is dimly lit and far too reminiscent of the nightclub where I've spent the past several hours slinging drinks and smiling through gritted teeth. With a sigh of exhaustion, I kick off my heels, the ache in my feet a painful reminder of just how long the night has been.

The familiar scent of home surrounds me as I make my way into the living room. The soft glow of the television beckons me, offering a welcome distraction from the events of the evening. With a groan of frustration, I collapse onto the sofa, my body sinking into the plush cushions. I sigh, folding my leg up to my chest to massage the sole of my foot.

"Rough night?" comes a voice from the doorway, and I glance up to see Lola, my roommate, standing there with a sympathetic smile on her face. With her long, dark curls cascading down her shoulders and her piercing brown eyes sparkling with warmth, Lola could easily make a living as model but she chooses to slum it with the rest of us. She's much more smarter than I could ever be and is a neuroscience PhD candidate at New York University.

"You have no idea," I reply, running a hand through my tangled hair as I recount the events of the evening. "It's like they expect us to be nothing more than eye candy, parading us around in these ridiculous outfits like we're nothing more than objects."

Lola nods in understanding, her expression sympathetic as she settles onto the sofa beside me even though I've ranted to her about this a million times.. "I can't even imagine," she says softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "But you know you're so much more than that, right? You're a talented artist and this is just a stepping stone, Ashley. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise."

I offer her a weak smile, grateful for her support. Not many people luck out to find friends in their roommates. "Thanks, Lola," I say, the weight of her words lifting some of the burden from my shoulders. "I just wish it didn't feel like I was stuck in this endless cycle, you know? Working two jobs just to make ends meet, while my dreams slip further and further away."

Lola's eyes soften. "I know it's tough," she says. "But remember, every step you take, no matter how small, is a step closer to your dreams. You're stronger than you think, Ashley. You've got this."

Lola was the best hypewoman and her words resonated within me. With a renewed sense of purpose, I straighten my shoulders and meet her gaze. "You're right," I say, a fire igniting in my eyes. "I won't let this defeat me."

Lola smiles, a proud glimmer in her eyes as she nods in approval. "That's the spirit," she says, her voice filled with pride. "You're unstoppable, Ashley. Don't ever forget it."

"Is there anything to eat in there?" I ask, nodding in the direction of the kitchen.

"Some takeout I ordered earlier." Lola says.

I shoot her a look. "So much for your diet."

She flushes, "There were vegetables in the chow mein."

"Right, that makes it healthy." I retort back.

I push myself off the sofa and made my way to the kitchen in search of sustenance. The aroma of leftover Chinese food fills the air, tantalizing my senses and reminding me of the simple pleasures in life. With a sigh of contentment, I reach for a plate and begin to dish out a generous serving, eager to replenish my energy after a long night of work.

Just as I'm about to take my first bite, my phone rings, shattering the peaceful silence of the apartment. I glance at the screen, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as I see the number displayed—unknown, with multiple missed calls. Curiosity piqued, I hesitate for a moment before answering, wondering who could possibly be trying to reach me at this hour.

"Hello?" I say tentatively, holding the phone to my ear as I brace myself for whatever news awaits on the other end of the line.

"Is this Ashley Henley?" comes the voice on the other end, crisp and professional.

"Yes, speaking," I reply.

"This is Sarah from Alistair Air," the voice continues, and I feel a tentative surge of hope. A few months ago, Lola had made me apply to an open design competition for multi-billionaire airline company, Alistair Air. I'd done so, with no hopes of getting a call back but here I was.

Sarah continued, "I'm calling to inform you that you've been chosen as the winner of our online contest to design a new logo for our company."

I can hardly believe my ears, the words sinking in like a dream come true. Alistair Air—the multi-billionaire air travel company—has chosen me, out of countless applicants, to be the one to design their new logo.

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes as I struggle to find the words to express my gratitude. "Oh my god," I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you, thank you so much. I can't believe this is happening."

Sarah's voice is warm and reassuring as she congratulates me. "We're thrilled to have you on board, Ashley," she says, her enthusiasm contagious. "We can't wait to see what you come up with for our new logo. Welcome to the Alistair Air family."

I hang up the phone, a surge of exhilaration courses through me, the reality of what just happened sinking in like a wave crashing against the shore. I've been chosen as the winner of the Alistair Air contest, a dream come true for a struggling graphic designer like myself. And not only that, but I'll also be attending the celebratory gala in just a few days' time—an opportunity to showcase my talent on a grand scale.

I can hardly contain my excitement as I let out a scream of joy, the sound echoing through the apartment like a chorus of triumph. Moments later, Lola bursts into the kitchen, her eyes wide with alarm as she takes in the scene before her.

"Ashley, what's wrong? Are you okay?" she asks, concern etched into every line of her face.

But before she can say another word, I grab her by the shoulders, unable to contain my excitement any longer. "Lola, you won't believe it!" I exclaim, practically bouncing with joy. "I've been chosen as the winner of the Alistair Air contest! And I get to attend their celebratory gala in just a few days!"

Lola's eyes widen in disbelief, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of surprise. "No way!" she cries, her voice filled with awe. "That's incredible, Ashley! I knew you could do it!"

With a whoop of delight, we both break into a spontaneous dance, twirling around the kitchen in a whirlwind of joy and excitement.

"We have to get ready! What are you going to wear to the gala?!" Lola asks. Somehow she manages to sound more excited than I am.

"I don't know." I laugh.

"We should go shopping. You have to look awesome at your gala." Lola says, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. Her excitement fuels mine even more. "My treat, I'll pay."

"No, no, you don't have to do that." I interject immediately.

Lola shoves me a little. "Don't be ridiculous. You're Cinderella and I'm going to be your pimp."

I snort a laugh. "I'm pretty sure that Cinderella had a fairy godmother, not a pimp."

"Same thing. You're going to look so f*****g amazing at the gala, Ashley. Who knows? Maybe you'll snag the attention of some gorgeous millionaire there too."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves yet," I joke.

She pats my hair. "Oh, darling, never underestimate the power of a stunning dress. I'll have the men at that gala eating out of the palm of your hands. You just wait."