Fake Coffee

Dazed and confused, those two simple yet weighted words summed up how Amy was feeling at that very moment. She could almost hear her brother’s comments

“ You’re a model sis, it comes with the job.”

She smiled to herself as she imagined his smirk as he either rubbed her head affectionately or lightly punched her on the arm.What else were brothers for afterall? Despite being a couple of years younger than her the Summer before he had grown quicker than the cotton fields in monsoonal season and had easily left her modest 6ft in the dust. 

It was only as she caught sight of her reflection in the crowded train carriage did her face fall back to it’s natural expression, resting ‘beyotch’ face as her family had called it. Apparently in the model industry though it was one of the most useful tools to have in her profession. Around her, other commuters clearly either recognised her from her latest gig or were just a little skeptical of the 6ft young woman with a impeccably made up hairdo and face laughing to herself in the middle of the morning peak hour.

It was just after 6am and the coffee she had been sculling all night clearly was no longer having an affect on her, at least her face was so caked in a variety of different cosmetics that she didn’t look as bad as she felt. While she didn’t really care what strangers thought of her, she did like to look presentable...it was her job afterall.

Her perfectly manicured fingers tapped against her thigh as the laidback beat of ‘ Savage Garden’ blasted through her earbuds, drowning out the incessant chatter of New York commuters and their infuriating american accents.

She had barely been in the States for a month and she was already sick of the culture here, it was the sterotypical ‘Western world’ culture on steroids...or perhaps she was just a gullible young woman from rural Australia taken from the rolling paddocks and endless blue sky to be thrust into the ridiculously busy world that was the top model industry. 

Who would have thought that the photoshoot she had done for Dairy Farmers Australia as part of a promotional campaign, a favour for one of her Dad’s mates would have blown up to such a scale. Within days of the campaign hitting the national scenee the phone had practically begun to ring non stop until she finally agreed to have a few photos done, even if it was only to shut the relentless agents up for even half a second.

She didn’t reckon her looks were special, in fact she thought they were the exact opposite. Blonde hair, blue eyes...tanned skin and light freckles from spending her entire childhood on a working farm, she was a walking sterotype for the ‘ golden girl’ Aussie image. The very few magazines she had flicked through when visiting town or the odd moments when the reception actually kicked in she had glimpsed a peek into the entertainment industry. The glossy haired models and actors  that stared out of the pages or paraded across the screen all seemed to look the same...her ‘special’ type of beauty was no different.

Although she would never admit it aloud, the only reason she had agreed to being taken away from her family and her home was to save the family farm. Although the drought had finally broken they would only reap the benefits in about 6 months, they were barely keeping afloat now. The money the American agents had offered her, it was enough to not only cater to her family’s needs but would also be enough for university funds for her brother if he so desired. On top of this, the money she had already earnt from the few modelling gigs she had done had been enough to repair the leaking kitchen and fix up numerous bits of machinery. 

She knew her Dad had guessed why she had taken the modelling job, although he hadn’t said anything she could tell by his constant check ins with her that he was grateful. She wasn’t the modelling type, she wasn’t even the city slicker type and this fact was obvious now more than ever...surrounded by people yet so alone. She was even staring at her reflection like in some cliche rom com that her Mum had made her watch a few times.

Stepping off the crammed train she weaved her way through the bustling crowds of the morning rush as she headed out of the Subway. The scent of freshly fallen rain was like hot cocoa on a cold night as she deeply inhaled the crisp air. For a moment, she could almost imagine she was back home...that was until the exhaust of a passing bus coughed in her face and the overpowering scent of deep fried street food yanked her back to the present. 

Despite the similarities between the American and AUstralian culture Amy had been feeling some pretty intense culture shock in her short time in the ‘Big Apple’. Of course, the modelling industry in itself was a subculture. Whether it was their unhealthy diet of sugary Starbucks drinks that faked being coffee or the lack of decent food...she missed the farm fresh produce back home. 

To get even somewhat fresh fruit here involved navigating the massive shopping centers down to normally the bottom level where a half broke ‘health food shop’ nestled awkwardly between a fast food joint and a dollar shop. The fellow models she shared a flat with paraded around with their artificial Starbucks coffees and odd juice concoctions, their perfect appearances and facial symmetry only adding to the alien feeling Amy had been feeling ever since she touched down on American soil.

Was this how all people felt in the entertainment industry? A feeling of intense loneliness despite being surrounded by people all the time? The city never stopped and neither did it’s people...no one ever stopped to think. No one ever stopped to connect. She was in a concrete emotionless jungle full of people so self absorbed that no one actually knew one another...she missed the connections of small rural communities. She missed the Aussie spirit, she missed her home. The irony was, despite being surrounded by more people than she had in her entire life she had never felt so isolated, so...so human.