The World's Potential- f1/Gymnastics

camera.

A.F
The day after I'd arrived back home Id received a phone call from my manager. She was not happy. Apparently, me blowing off different companies that wanted to shoot me wasn't apart of my contract and therefore has put me at risk of losing my job. I however, know fully that they would not dare fire me. I'm the best thing they've got, I sound blunt and rude and arrogant and all the other adjectives you want to use, but it's true. The next best thing they've got is Rachel, and doesn't that tell you a lot? I single handedly made this agency boom, I helped them and paved the path for them. They have one big name and cling to it like they're company depends on it: because it does.

The first phone call came when we were back in Italy, the night of the thunderstorm. I could hear Kera shouting me, but this was just too important. I was mad: furious. They were threatening me, so I threatened back. You see, when you have power over people, there's nothing much they can do to stop you exerting that power. They said that if I didn't return to Germany within the next 3 days that I would be fired and blacklisted in the modelling industry. So I casually brought up the fact that they've broken numerous child labour laws, as well as exploiting the name and faces of their former models in order to gain publicity.

Power is everything.

I know I seem like a manipulator or whatever but I can assure you, I use it for good as well. I care deeply for things when I have reason to. If Kera or Pierre or even Charles needed anything or were in a situation, trust me I would do anything for them. Possibly because of my upbringing, it's the person I am- no one will stop me from getting what I want. The world is ours yet we sit around and let other people tread on our paths? No thank you.

A call from my phone interrupts my chain of thoughts, causing me to snap back into reality.
Charles Leclerc is calling you.
I answer, wondering as to why he's calling me.

'hey, are you free?'

'hi, yeah i am, what's up?'

'i just wanted to say thank you for the holiday, it was amazing. I'm sorry if i intruded on your time with Pierre and Kera'

'No Charles we loved having you there. I think Kera did especially. I love the way your accent sounds when you say her name, makes me laugh everytime.'

'accent? i don't have an accent what are you on about?' he says, in the strongest monegasque accent i've heard.

'you say it like keeeera, it's keh rah' i say, putting a stress on the 'eh' sound.

'keeera' he repeats

'no. no no. listen kera'

'that is what i just said! anyways, i hope to see you all again soon. would you be interested in meeting sometime?'

'aw that'd be great charles. it's more Kera that we have to work around, her being in Australia and all.'

'no yea, absolutely. okay. Thank you Angie' he says before hanging up the phone.
He's funny.

A few hours pass and I find myself in the car, driving to my next booking. It was for a magazine company that was writing about the importance of a good work/life balance; ironic isn't it?

The camera light flashes rapidly at me, taking a photo of my every moment. The photographer occasionally tell me to adjust myself with his odd hand gestures. I love modelling, I love the outcomes of photos, I love the creativity and life it gives me, but this was just boring. There was no spark, that light had been put out. I could not do this for much longer without exploding like dynamite. I just wanted to go home to my dog, Rocco. My dad named him, he always wanted to name my brother than but my mother refused. She would say 'der name eines kindes, kein hund' (a child's name, not a dog) so
when I got Rocco, i knew it was my dads time to shine.