𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞 [COMPLETE]

𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟎𝟎𝟏 { Clean Slate }

"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘"
~~~

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

"Say cheese!" The photographer yelled at my model agent, Kelsey, and I. Forcing my fakest smile, I straightened my dress doing a little dance and looked directly into the camera, making sure to angle my face to the good side.

"Got it, ladies. Thank you."

"I'm posting this on my Instagram, I look so good!" she states, more excited than I was.

Not again

Kelsey had an obsession with taking millions of pictures until she got the perfect shot. Her hair had to be flowing in the right direction. The pose she did couldn't be outdated and her clothes had to be the latest designer out. I guess it only makes sense why she would become a model agent.

"Hey Kels, can we talk? It's important." I whisper quietly, in case anyone in the room is listening.

"Sure," she says back, louder than I would've liked.

Once we entered the room I grabbed a piece of candy in the round bowl in the back corner and sat on the red two-seater couch next to it.

"Are you sure you should be eating that?" Kelsey says. As I sigh while putting the candy back where I found it, I blurt out the first words that come to mind.

"I don't want to be a model anymore."

Five seconds go by and it's radio silent. A silent room was a rare occurrence with Kelsey. She loved to talk, hear her voice as she demanded things to be done. Then it was ten seconds, thirty, a minute then what she does next shocks me.

Kelsey double downs in a fit of laughter that I bet the whole office could hear. "You have a contract silly, don't be ridiculous" are the next few words that leave her mouth.

"But-" Before I could finish, Kelsey proceeded to list out the many, many reasons why that's not a good idea.

"You really think you can just back out of a binding contract without valid reason. That's not how any of this works, Sage." She hissed, stepping into my personal space.

"We'll see about that." I replied, grabbing my bag and sauntering out of the room. The confidence I once had not following behind me.

"Shit." I muttered. I wasn't thinking and totally forgot about the group of paparazzi that would surely be waiting for me out front as I left the building.

—

I cried myself to sleep last night and today I have the biggest smile on my face as if nothing ever happened. It's true what they say. Telling people you're okay is much easier than explaining why you're not.

The comments on my latest Instagram post managed by Kelsey have only gotten worse. In this particular picture, I posed in a dark blue bodycon dress and my ginger hair was straightened down to my back, different from my usual fro. My makeup free face was glowing as my natural freckles were visible. Next to me was my aggravating manager, Kelsey who conveniently looked beautiful in her beige blazer and dress pants.

Maybe I did look a mess. I thought while staring intensely at my reflection looking back at me. I lifted my arms for them to jiggle slightly and I pinched my jawline, feeling much more flesh than usual.

The comments were ruthless, to say the least.

"Ew freckles creep me out" -mikaylaxo
"your thighs have definitely gotten bigger"-Tonydagod
"that color doesn't suit you"- karen211
"you're beautiful for a black girl" - elizabethsaint