I Didn't Ask For A Bodyguard!

♀ : "Well- you're taking off your shirt off for a good reason?"

^Aria frustrated and huffing during her training

**Not Edited (Please ignore the grammar and spelling mistakes. ;A;)**

"I don't even think when I'm walking down the runway. I don't really breathe either."

                                                                        --Rosie Huntington-Whiteley

~~

♀ Aria POV ♀

"Nana what are we doing here? In a fancy place? Where I do not belong?" I asked, gripping Aaron's arm and watching beautiful Vogue-worthy girls strut by.

Damn those heels were high. You go girl. That takes talent.

"I need you guys to model for me. I got Rayni and Evalyn to agree-"

"You mean you threatned them," I interjected, giving her a pointed look.

"Minor details. I got them to agree and now I just need two more models."

"No," Aaron answered immediately.

"C'mon Aaron!" I whined, grabbing his arm and shaking it. "It'll be fun. Don't you like fun?!"

"Nana's going to make me take my shirt off."

"No she's not!"

"Actually," Nana trailed off, motioning up and down towards Aaron's body. "I was. That was my winning plan."

"Well- you're taking off your shirt off for a good reason?"

"And that is?"

"The reason is coming right this way," Nana muttered under her breath, plastering a smile on her face. "Hi mom! Hi dad!"

Both of us turned to stare at the Japanese man and Chinese woman walking towards us, looking regal and important. Much like my parents- except the dad wasn't French like my dad  was- but like, the air around them was the same. And I mean, her mom was Chinese too, so like. Yeah.

Damn, I really need to work on my analogies.

"Nana! Darling," Nana's mom crooned, hugging Nana lightly. "I found you the perfect husband."

"Mom, I'm fourteen. I'm pretty sure it's illegal for me to get married," She said, arching an eyebrow.

"So? Court him. Then when you are old enough to marry, you guys will be so rich!" Her mom squealed.

"Your mom is right. It's a great opportunity."

"How does he look?"Nana asked, furrowing her eyebrows in clear dissatisfaction of her parent's decision.

"Oh he's perfect. Two arms, two legs, a head- and best of all, enough money to last us for fifty years!" Her mom swooned.

"So I'll hate him," Nana said drily, giving her mom a look.

"You hate guys with two arms and two legs?"

"I hate rich stuck up guys who I bet loves himself as much as he loves money."

"Whatever. So, what are we doing here, Nana?" Her mom asked,  looking around.

"Mom. Dad. I want to be a fashion designer when I grow up."

Nana cringed as her mom and dad gave her a look of horror.

"You what?" Her father asked, looking like he was about to faint.