PROLOGUE
I turn the invitation over in my hand for the umpteenth time as my mind drifts to the prospect of spending time on the idyllic island of Santorini.
It arrived in the post last week, the thick, white embossed card adorned with gold lettering, that suggests a no-expense-spared wedding. I think it is so much nicer to receive an invitation through the post rather than one delivered by email, although I guess a good friend would always post a hand-written invitation.
The wedding invitation is from my oldest friend, Tasha, and the plus-one invite makes my heart sink for a second, as I have no significant other in my life right now. I do have someone in mind who will hopefully be able to join me though.
I’m thrilled for my best friend, I really am, and I am so looking forward to seeing her marry her best friend, Owen. It may sound a little selfish of me, but I hope I am not surrounded by too many loved-up couples while my own heart is still healing.
Santorini though! I had better get browsing some out-of-season sales for an outfit given my current, not so great, financial situation. And you never know, I might be gifted anoutfit from a clothing retailer – as I often am – that might be suitable for a wedding. In return I can promote it on my ever-growing TikTok account.
I must start planning something soon, as the wedding is only a month away and time seems to be racing by. If I’m honest, I am not sure why that is as I find myself with a lot more time on my hands these days. At least I now have something marked on the calendar that I can look forward to though. The opportunity for a holiday in Greece and a chance to have a catch-up with my oldest friend is something I am truly grateful for.
ONE
‘Mia, would you mind bringing that washing in, love, it looks like it might rain.’
My gran is calling me from the lounge, as I have just finished uploading a video in her guest bedroom.
My last recording of my trip to Ibiza has been popular with my followers, having already chalked up almost a million views in the last week. If only I had that many actual followers.
‘Will do,’ I call through to the lounge, before heading outside to the garden of Gran’s ground-floor flat.
I spend my spare time here, which I have quite a bit of lately, having recently been made redundant. My gran is not too good on her feet, so a couple of carers pop in during the day, along with me and Mum. Admittedly, I am probably here more than Mum, who works part-time but still calls in regularly.
My gran jokes that she hopes I will still come and see her when I am rich and famous, and I reassure her that I will. And while I hope that it will happen one day, I think I am still quite a way from that. But you never know.
Just lately I have lost count of the number of freebies I have received from small businesses, all eager for me to endorse their brands on my page. I have been gifted all manner of things,including gym wear that I practically live in, along with skincare products and even the occasional household item. It isn’t really a job as such, at least not at the moment, as I am not paid an actual salary from it. Or from any other employer right now.
I find budget flights and hotels, sometimes only staying in the sunny locations featured on my videos for little more than a couple of days, but my followers do not need to know that. Even the budget hotels will have to be given a miss for a while though, as I save every penny I can for the forthcoming wedding.
I really want to inspire my followers to follow their dreams, even though my own haven’t quite come to fruition, but I believe they will do one day. I have been known to do a bit of singing in the past, and it is something I am keen to pick up in the future. You never know, I may even release my singing voice to my followers and the rest of the world, but only when I feel the time is right.
I think of the photo of my toned, white bikini-clad body on a long stretch of beach in Ibiza’s San Antonio, my long copper hair cascading down my back that I shared with my followers. That was before I scooped up my towel, and headed back to my apartment, having avoided the hefty sunbed charge.
Fake it until you make it, isn’t that what they say? Hopefully one day there will be VIP party invitations with real champagne, instead of supermarket own-brand Prosecco that leaves me with a slightly furry tongue. And okay, maybe I don’t have as many followers as those who have hundreds of thousands – millions even – but I try not to let that get me down. What is meant for me will appear in the fullness of time. At least I hope it will. Maybe then I won’t need to rely on Gran’s generosity, or her company quite so much.
‘Oh, and, Mia,’ says Gran as I bring in the washing. ‘Would you mind emptying the kitchen bin and putting it outside? The binmen are due tomorrow.’
‘Of course, Gran,’ I say as her voice pulls me out of my daydream. I snap on some rubber gloves and head towards the pedal bin to remove its contents. If only my followers could see me now!
TWO
I am enjoying a latte in town with my friend Lulu – Louise, but Lulu has been her family name since childhood apparently– who is still working in the place I have recently left. Or should I say been let go from. Surplus to requirements. Redundant. No longer needed.
‘It could be worse,’ said Lulu, sipping her enormous hot chocolate, dotted with marshmallows.
I’d taken a photo of both of our drinks at this new café that I will upload later to my Instagram account, along with the food we have ordered, and give a little review. ‘At least you don’t have to buy clothes with all those freebies you get,’ she reminds me. ‘Or skincare, and that costs a fortune. Or food, as you still live at home and?—’
‘Yeah, okay, Lu, I get the picture. It could be worse. It just feels a bit weird not having a routine.’ I shrug.
I had worked for a fashion catalogue on the mail-order telephone line for four years, when the department announced cuts. Most people had been there far longer than I had, it being the kind of place you never really left, given its proximity to the train station and being surrounded by shops and cafés. I guess I should never have thought of it as a job for life, especially withmy vague aspirations to be famous in some way. Even so, my redundancy left me feeling a little panicked at the thought of not having a regular income. Two other newish starters and I had been given the chop as more people continued to order online these days, directly from the warehouse.
With the modest amount of redundancy pay I received I booked another little jaunt, even though I can hear my dad’s voice in my ears making no secret of the fact that he thinks I am being irresponsible.
‘You should be looking for a proper job instead of going away again, and uploading videos on that internet. That is never going to earn you a decent wage,’ he had told me for the umpteenth time.
‘Tell that to all the presenters who have become famous after building up a large following, or appearing on reality shows such asLove Island,’ I’d informed him, but he remained unconvinced.
