Things had been tough the last few months. Losing your job over a contractual disagreement had been far from ideal, and while you had hoped to find something soon, things had just not been looking in your favour. You had gone to six job interviews in the past five days. All of them ended with a polite smile and handshake and a horrible feeling in your stomach.
And after every interview, you had to prepare yourself for a phone call from your mother, who needed a detailed retelling of each of these interviews, just to tell you what you had done wrong. Some would call it constructive. You called it plain mean.
How stupid can you be, y/n? Why didn't you do this? Why didn't you do that?- and so on. But you had no choice except to listen and accept all the comments, as it was her and your father that was currently helping you to ensure a roof over your head.
It had been another long day, and your last conversation was still going through your head as you let your feet touch the hot water in the bath. Carefully, as not to ruin the wall of bubbles that had formed over the water, you sat down and let the water soak away your troubles. With the sweet scent of lavender, and the soft music playing from your phone, you closed your eyes and tried to enjoy the moment.
Emphasis on tried.
Your mother's words still rang through your head.
You better find some work soon. Your father and I can't keep paying your bills. She had said it as if you hadn't been trying for weeks to find something. It was as if not a single place was looking for new employees. Not even the frozen yoghurt shop at the corner of the street! And this was precisely what you had tried to tell her, but she just would not listen.
Well, if you don't find anything, why don't you work for your father? It was indeed an option, but not the best. Your father was a wannabe film writer at best, so working for him would mean sitting in his tiny office the whole day, listening to him scream at his computer. No, thank you.
You did your best blocking out your mom's voice for a few minutes, and finally, when your head got a bit quiet, and your shoulders had relaxed, and everything felt a bit less chaotic in your life-
The phone rang.
"Shit!" Your heart jumped into your throat at the loud noise that reverberated from the sink. You tried to reach out for it from your sitting position, your efforts almost making you fall out of the bathtub. After a bit of more stretching, however, your fingertips finally managed to grab your phone, and you pulled it up towards you.
Then you saw the caller ID, and you screamed again.
Zendaya.
What the hell was she doing? Calling you? It must have been a mistake.
Yes, you could call yourself one of the fortunate souls that had Miss Zendaya Coleman's phone number saved in your mobile, but you had never dared to make any use of it. Oh, god, no. The number was etched into your memory card for a while now, ever since you worked on the set of the Greatest Showman. But not once did the thought cross your mind. Yes, you had worked for Zendaya on the production, and she had called you on a few occasions when she needed something, but that was it. Once filming was done, you didn't even think to ever hear from her ever again. And yet... here it was. Her name, flashing on the screen right in front of you.
Then, you suddenly realised that you must have taken ages staring at your phone and you quickly, almost dropping it into the water, answered it.
"H-hello?"
"Hey! y/n! It's me." Her voice sounded as nice as it used to, and right then you realised that it wasn't a pocket dial, it wasn't a wrong number she called- she was actually calling you, intentionally! But you kept it calm as you took a deep breath.
"Hi! How are you?"
"I'm good, I'm good. But, hey, I was just wondering if you could help me out?"
"Yeah, sure, what's up?" you sat up as straight as you could in the bath. The idea that she actually wanted to talk to you was still in the process of going through your head, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself, but then you realised that Zendaya was talking, and you, like an idiot, weren't listening. You managed to catch only the last few words.
"So, what do you think?" There was a silence as you were supposed to respond with your thoughts.
"Uhh, sorry, I missed that. Could you maybe repeat the last part?" Not. Embarrassing. At. All. But Zendaya, being the sweetheart she is, didn't mind one bit and happily repeated her words.
"A friend of mine on set needs some help, and he can't find an assistant for the life of him. So I was wondering if I could recommend you? If you're up for it, of course."
"You want to recommend me?" You could not believe it.
"Yeah! I remembered you telling me on set how you were hoping for a longer gig in the business, right? So please tell me I remembered that correctly and it was you?" She laughed awkwardly.
"Uh, yeah, that was me. I can't believe you actually remembered that. It was ages ago!"
"It's a blessing and a curse, amirite?" you both laughed a bit, and when the laughter died down, she went back to business. "So, what do you think? Would you be up for it?"
The memories of working on a real movie set flooded back to you. It had been an incredible few months. Even though you had not done much more but run errands for the movie stars and other crew, it was great fun. You got to drive around in a golfing cart with Hugh Jackman, for crying out loud. It had definitely been a very interesting time.
"y/n?" you heard from the other end of the line, "You still there?"
"Huh? Yes, yes, of course!" Had you just zoned out again? Great, that would not make you look unprofessional at all, and it definitely could not ruin your chances of getting the job. You could just about cry when you heard Zendaya speak again. She didn't sound bothered at all, and the smile on her face was almost audible through the way she spoke.
"Okay, good. So are you up for it?"
"Yeah, yes. I'd love to."
"Alright! Are you still in London? Cause that would actually really work out great if you did," she softly laughed again.
"Yeah, I do?" You answered but with a questioning tone.
"Great!" Zendaya seemed really excited about it all, which made you question again if it was really you that she meant to call. Maybe she remembered someone else, much more fun, instead of you, but just got the names and faces mixed up or something? No one has ever been this excited to work with you.
"So we will be shooting in a few days, actually. Do you think you can make it?"
"Sure..." you tried to overcompensate through your calm voice and demeanour, so Zendaya wouldn't notice that you were, in fact, freaking out.
"Yeah, but don't worry, I'll set up a meeting for you to meet and talk everything out. How does next week sound?"
"Mhm, sounds good, yeah." You bit your lip to prevent yourself from screaming. Next week? Talk about the short notice...
"Great, you're a lifesaver, y/n! I'll talk to you later, yeah?"
"Yeah, I'll- oh, wait!" You wanted to quickly budge in, but she had already hung up. You stared at your phone screen for a moment, even when it turned off automatically, making you stare back at your own reflection. Then, you let your arm hang down the edge of the bath, your phone dangling dangerously between your fingers, but you didn't think about possibly dropping it onto the tiles.
The water in the bath had slowly gotten cold, but there were plenty of other, more important things going through your mind. For instance, the fact that Zendaya had never actually told you the name of the person who you were possibly going to work for. Also, you tried to quickly go through all the celebrity gossip headlines you've seen around on the internet lately. Were any of them mentioning a new film production in town? If they had, you couldn't think of any at the moment.
But it was Zendaya, and you knew you could trust her when she said that "he" (whoever he might be) was a great guy.
It was going to be fine.
YOU ARE READING
Far From Home // t.h.
Fanfiction~currently being rewritten and edited. The new version should be up soon, but I'm busy so it could also take a while. atm only chapter 1-31 are edited, because of this process, changes in plot are being made that might not be shown in the future cha...