-1-
Being on your own young is a challenge. Anyone can attest to that. It was no different for Sabha Beliveau, even at the age of nineteen and a year out of home. It was true that being the daughter of a French diplomat had it's perks. By the age of seven Sabha had seen most of the world with her father, enjoyed some of the best education that money could buy, and was fluent in six different languages by the time she entered High-school. Sabha's mother, a Persian ex-patriot from Iran, took up teaching Farsi in French schools, but soon grew weary of her new homeland. So, when the opportunity for Sabha's father to relocate to the United States as a consultant for Boeing, Sabha, Her mother, and Her brother all leaped at the chance.
It was in Seattle, Washington that Sabha completed her high-school education. Her worldly view allowed her to surpass most of her peers in scholarly pursuits as she excelled in subjects of arithmetic, geography, history, and Spanish (one of the six languages she was fluent in). Sabha was quickly accepted into the University of Washington upon graduation.
However, none of the lessons she learned as a child could ever prepare her for the harsh reality of life. Sabha's father was determined to not allow his children to end up like the "American slobs" that he so looked down on. When her brother, Jean-Pierre graduated a year before her, he was out on his own. Sabha always assumed (correctly) that she would receive the same treatment.
Within a week of her high-school graduation Sabha was moved into her new apartment. Six blocks south of the Space Needle, on the corner of Fourth Avenue and Bell Street. It was a quaint little (emphasis on little) studio apartment and had all the amenities that a young woman like Sabha could need. The best part, Sabha felt, was that it was only two blocks away from Jean-Pierre.
Growing up the two were nearly inseparable. Jean-Pierre was only a year older then Sabha. Almost to the day. Like Sabha, Jean-Pierre was fluent in six languages. He couldn't speak them as well as his sister, however his language skills were passable. Jean-Pierre also excelled in his scholarly pursuits. However, the pursuit of knowledge did not interest him. "Wasted potential" his father would say on more then one occasion. When it came time for Jean-Pierre to move out of home, he did not let the door hit his ass on the way out, so to speak.
Sabha heaved a heavy sigh and picked up her cellphone.
"I need to call Jean-Pierre." She muttered to herself as her fingers swiped through to his phone number. The phone rang. It rang only three times before the other end picked up and Jean-Pierre's voice transmitted through the speaker.
"Hey, it's me." Sabha said after Jean-Pierre's typical greeting of 'yo'.
"I know, phone's come with caller ID." Jean-Pierre teased.
"Shut up." Sabha said playfully. "I need some help..." She began. Sabha sighed again.
"How much...?" Jean-Pierre's voice trailed off.
"No, not money, you idiot. I need you to help me find a job."
"I know just the guy!" Jean-Pierre claimed. Sabha could hear Jean-Pierre handle the phone and what sounded like shuffling papers. "Here it is." he rattled off a number that Sabha quickly wrote down. "His name's Mike. He's a talent scout."
"A talent scout?" Sabha had heard of talent scout's before but never thought she was pretty enough to become a model. Her focus had always been with school and she never really noticed boys until late in her high-school years.
"Yes, silly a talent scout. I've been doing some work for him. It's easy stuff, just sit and smile really." Jean-Pierre explained.
"A-are you sure?" Sabha stammered, the thought of being in front of a camera nearly terrified her.
"Yes! I'm sure. You'll do fine!." Jean-Pierre said. Sabha wasn't convinced. "Just give him a call, Sabha, give it a shot. If you don't like it don't do it. If you do, it's some money your way." Sabha still wasn't convinced but promised to think about it anyway. Sabha unceremoniously said her farewells to Jean-Pierre and hung up.
Sabha was a long time sitting in her desk chair flipping the number between her fingers. Her thoughts drifting from one fantasy of being a model to another.
"What the hell!" Sabha said, making the clear and final decision to give the number a call. She swiped through the numbers, checking and double checking the number before pressing send.
"Hello?" An American male answered.
"Yes, Mike please." Sabha said.
"Speaking."
"Yes, Hello..." Sabha nervously stammered. She could almost hear Mike roll his eyes on the other end. "I... um... Got your number from my brother, Jean-Pierre... he said you may have some work for me."
Long pause.
"Yeah... I think I can come up with something. Ever been in front of a camera before?"
"No. Not professionally." Sabha admitted.
"That's okay, why don't you stop by this Friday and we'll see what we can do... bring a change of clothes, something sexy."