Hollywood Hustle & Heart - Chapter 1
Jenna - Over It
Chapter 1 - Jenna
Over It
My heart pounded against my ribs as I rolled over, shoving aside the heavy blankets. The room was dark, still, but my mind was racing. I’d only been asleep for a few hours before the nightmare yanked me awake. Reaching for the water bottle on my nightstand, I took a few shaky sips, hoping to calm the unease creeping up my spine.
But every time I closed my eyes, it was the same disturbing scene.
I stood outside a store, my hands trembling as I asked strangers for change. I barely recognized myself—filthy, disheveled, nothing like the woman I was today. The shame in my dream felt so real, so suffocating, that I could still feel its weight even now.
Was this some kind of warning? Had I made a mistake leaving my job?
“No, Jenna.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but firm. “You prayed about this. You’re making the right move. It’s time to follow your dream and live for you. Don’t believe what she told you.”
Even as I spoke the words, doubt lurked in the corners of my mind.
What if I was wrong?
Finally, after another thirty minutes of tossing and turning, I fell back to sleep. I didn’t wake up until my alarm went off. The slight L.A. breeze coming through my bedroom window made me smile. Last night, the temperatures rose to eighty degrees, making my night out with my roommate, Chrissy, perfect for our ride down Sunset Boulevard. Taking a deep breath, I finally got all the way up. The minute I thought about work, I felt my stomach turn. Standing up, I grabbed my pressed uniform and placed it on the bed. As I got ready for work, I turned on some music. I needed something to take my mind off the fact that this was my last two weeks at Lakeview Nursing & Rehab Facility. That was actually why we went out to celebrate.
I was finally taking the leap of faith that I’d been talking about for the last year. When I first moved to L.A. from Philly that was the reason that I’d moved. To pursue a career in personal styling. But the bills started piling up and rent was due, so I broke down and got a job in the only field that I have training in - nursing. I was an LPN and loved what I did, but my heart was in fashion and styling. I didn’t know how I would get started, but I knew that out of all the connections I made over the last three years, someone would be able to assist me in getting my foot in the door.
Before getting into the shower, I grabbed my phone and went to my website. I had an online portfolio with some styling I’d done over the last few years. The last celebrities that I styled were four months ago in October, at L.A. Fashion Week. A colleague of mine ended up having to fly home to Chicago to help his mother as his father’s health started to decline. When he called me, I jumped at the chance to style for Mindy Logan and Stephanie Richards, two of Hollywood’s biggest Gen-Z stars. I’d done well enough to get social media raves and even to have them invite me back for next year, but not enough to feel comfortable leaving my job.
As I scrolled through my portfolio, I couldn’t help but fill up with pride. I’d managed to style twenty-three people in three years. Not all of them were household names yet, but many of them were and I had enough credibility that I could style anyone from Inglewood to Times Square. I was ready.
“You’ll never be able to do what your sister did. Why don’t you just do what you’ve been doing and leave the hard stuff to Laila?”
I shook my head to clear my mind of my mother’s voice. I hated that even from the grave, my mother’s voice still taunted me. Throwing my phone down, I headed into the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror, taking in my deep brown eyes and caramel complexion, happy to see the breakout that had been forming going away. Pulling my long hair up into a tight bun so it wouldn’t get wet in the shower, I started my morning routine. As I put the green tea mask on my face, my mind drifted to my sister, Laila. We hadn’t spoken in years and if I was honest, I was okay with that. While I didn’t blame her for how our mother had treated me, as we both got older, Laila, who was three years older, never came to my rescue. It was as if she agreed with our mother regarding the things she said to me. In some ways, our mother was right. Laila was a pediatrician and I was only an LPN.
Stepping into the shower, I let the water rinse away my fears and concerns as I came to grips with my new reality. It wasn’t unusual for people to leave their jobs to pursue their dreams in L.A., but I didn’t even have one client lined up. I knew I had to come up with a more solid plan because eventually, my savings would dwindle and I didn’t want it to get too low before I found something solid. I had a few emails that I was going to send later today to some social media personalities who could use my help.
An hour later, I was ready to go. It was already eight, so I would have to grab breakfast on the way. I didn’t have to be to work until nine-thirty, but I didn’t want to chance it with L.A. traffic on a Friday morning. Once I was in my car, I pulled down my visor and did one final check in the mirror. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but I definitely didn’t want people to read too much into the bags that were under my eyes or the fear that I was sure could be read all over my face. I started the engine, then sat back against the seat.
“Jenna, you’ve got this. It’s time for you to conquer the world.”
Smiling, I turned up the volume as I pulled out of our unit garage. It was now or never.
***
It wasn’t even lunchtime and I was ready to go. Since I clocked in I’d been running around, grabbing bedpans and cleaning up bathroom messes. It was like everyone waited until I got here to have to go to the bathroom. I was glad that I pulled my hair back and decided to wear a ponytail today. Taking a few deep breaths, I pulled myself together and continued with my shift. Finally, it was lunchtime. I grabbed my lunch out the fridge and sat down to eat lunch with Nellie, one of my co-workers.
“Girl, it’s no wonder you want to leave here,” she said. “These people have stressed me out and it’s not even one.”
I chuckled. “Tell me about it. I thought I was going to pass out when I went into Mr. Reagan’s room. I can’t believe they let him stay like that until I got here.”
She lowered her voice. “Probably because you’re leaving. You wouldn’t be the first person they punished for moving on.”
I shook my head. I knew she was referring to our former co-worker, Allison. Allison’s father was a big shot movie producer that helped her land a role on a new hit TV show. She left six months ago and never looked back.
“Word is,” Nellie, continued, “Jocelyn is tired of creatives waltzing through here only to leave after they find something else.”
“Well, if she’s got a problem with that, she’s going to be miserable for the rest of her life,” I responded, opening my salad. “This is Hollywood. People don’t want to be stuck wiping butts for the rest of their lives.”
Nellie snickered as she bit into her sandwich wrap. We continued making small talk as we enjoyed our lunch. As we cleaned up to get back to work, I thought about what she said. Jobs like this always tried to make people feel bad for wanting better. Even though I was only twenty-eight and could certainly get more mileage out of my LPN license, that didn’t mean I wanted to work in a nursing home for the rest of my life. I actually had been looking into a job as a personal care nurse in the Hollywood Hills before I made the decision to quit altogether.
We clocked back in, and then got back to our shift. Only four more hours to go and I’d be out of here.
“Jenna, don’t forget to take care of room 302 and 303 before you leave today. The next shift shouldn’t have to clean up your mess,” Jocelyn shouted out as I walked into room 301.
“Yes, ma’am,” I responded.
If there was one thing I wasn’t going to do, it was let her get under my skin. She had never been the nicest person, but I could sense the shift in her demeanor ever since I handed in my resignation. I wasn’t going to give her what she was looking for.
“And make sure you take care of the resident’s laundry before clocking out,” she said, coming into the room and throwing a bag of clothes onto my cart.
I bit my bottom lip and swallowed my pride. Only thirteen more days to go.
***
I stood outside the nursing home, chatting with Nellie as she waited for her boyfriend to pick her up. Once he pulled up, I headed to my car. One thing I did appreciate about the nursing home facility is that we had our own parking lot, which was one of the reasons I’d chosen this job over another one that was closer to my apartment.
Pulling out of the parking lot, I double-checked before pulling into traffic. Rolling down my windows, I relaxed against the seat. As I stopped at the light, I looked over at the vehicles parked to my right. I noticed a guy helping a woman put her groceries in her car. It was clear they didn’t know each other by the way she kept thanking him and trying to give him money, which he kept shoving away. I smiled as she finally got into her car, with him making sure she was good before he got into his. My eyes followed him as he rolled down his windows and started his car. I couldn’t help but notice how smooth his skin was. There wasn’t one blemish from where I sat, which was only a few feet away. A honking horn brought me back to reality just as the man winked at me and pointed toward the light. I lifted my hand apologetically as I pulled off.
Stay focused girl, I thought. You are not making this move to get sidetracked by anything or anyone.
Even as I thought that, it didn’t change the fact that I think I had just encountered the finest guy I’d ever seen in my life.