You Don’t Fire Frejarizona, Frejarizona Fires You.
“Today’s the day, my FrejyPop,” Arizona purred into Freja’s ear as they laid in bed, wrapped in each other.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Freja asked, excited and scared in equal measure.
“It’s me, you and a camera. When is that ever a bad idea?” Arizona responded and then eyed the Nikon on the tripod at the end of the bed.
Hand in hand, Freja and Arizona walked into the Céline offices.
“Did you see that?” Freja asked as she held the door for Arizona.
“You mean the frumpy lady with the stroller who had the same haircut I do?”Arizona asked.
“No, that man in the car.”
Arizona looked back to see a black BMW with a man whose hands were fiddling with something out of sight.
“I think he’s a paparazzi,” Freja said.
“No. Don’t worry, I think he’s just masturbating at us,” Arizona said and it relieved Freja. It must be nerves, Freja thought to herself. She didn’t want to let down Arizona. This was going to be an important campaign. They walked inside and immediately heard, “Girls, your here!”
A Céline employee enthusiastically lead them back to a rack of the first looks Frejarizona would be wearing.
“Accordion dresses?” Freja said, holding in a dry heave.
“Yes! This is what you’ll be wearing!” the employee said and Arizona tried to smile at her, but she was looking past the lady to see if she could find an exit so they could escape this nightmare.
“Is this a joke?” Freja asked in disbelief.
“No it’s our new budget line Céline by Celine Dion.”
“This is illegal,” Arizona said, incredulous.
“Where is Céline?” Freja asked.
“Are you kidding?” the employee responded.
Arizona grabbed on Freja’s arm and whispered, “Babe, Céline is dead. She was killed by the leader of her fan club.”
“You’re thinking of Selena. The Hispanic singer,” Freja pointed out.
“Oh, then she got shot on her doorstep.”
“That was Versace,” Freja corrected Arizona.
“I wish it was Celine Dion,” Arizona growled.
“Just try the dresses on,” the Céline employee begged. Ever the professionals, Frejarizona complied.
Looking at each other in the accordion moo moos, both women decided, “I need a cigarette.”
Outside, Freja and Arizona puffed and paced.
“How are we going to get out of this? Being the face of Céline by Celine Dion is like being the face of bowel cancer,” Freja ranted.
“I’m going to think of something,” Arizona said to her love. This was the most serious, threatening moment of their entire relationship.
They stamped out their cigarettes and Freja spotted the man from the BMW snapping away pictures. “It’s too late,” Freja said. “It’s never too late,” Arizona responded, then lead her soul mate back inside.
“I have to go,” Arizona told the Céline employee. “You can’t,” the Céline lady declared.
“I have to. I need medical attention. This dress gave me Accordionacitous.”
“You just made that up,” the Céline woman responded.
“I did not. Are you discriminating against my Accordionacitous? I’m going to sue you worse than my agents are going to sue that fake tumblr about Freja and me.”
The Céline employee let Frejarizona go because a lawsuit of that scale would bring Céline by Céline Dion down like it was the Titanic.
“You saved my life,” Freja said warmly to Arizona.
“I’ll love you til the Accordionacitous takes me, my love,” Arizona responded.
***NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. THIS DIDN’T REALLY HAPPEN***