Miraculous One shots

Journal of a Model Part 1

"When you hate yourself, you don't hear people say, "Gosh your smart," or, "You're a talented artist." Or if you hear them, you don't believe them."-Patrice Gaines

I never asked for any of this. I never asked for my mom to disappear. I never asked for my dad to neglect me when she did. I never asked for my family to get ripped in two and for me to become what's leftover: a broken boy who wishes for the past when he was whole.

My father is one of the greatest fashion designers in the world. And since he now puts everything into his work, I thought that if I worked for my dad then maybe he would focus more on me than his job. I was eager to see if I was right so I jumped at the chance. I became a model for my dad's company.

But sadly nothing good came out of it for me.

I became my dad's top model but I was treated more like a slave than a son. The treatment also got worse. Everything I did was monitored and controlled. What I ate, where I went, when I slept. I couldn't even pick out my own clothes anymore. I was starting to wish he was neglecting me again.

After a while it was clear to me that I wasn't important to him anymore. Life became an empty existence for me. I thought I was meaningless. I was trapped in an endless loop of misery that I put myself in with my unluckiness and trying to get noticed by my own dad.

Being a model, everyday I would receive some kind of compliment.

"You're so amazing!"

"You looked fabulous in last weeks magazine!."

Or, "People would kill for a chance to look like you!"

Whether they were from fans, reporters, or photographers, they still meant nothing. All I was was a pretty face to them. They could care less about his personal affairs. All that mattered to them is that they have new pictures of him every week for their own benefits of enjoyment.

To them I'm worth billions.

But to me, I wasn't worth more than a wad of chewed gum on the sidewalk.