I'll Kiss Your Lips Again

Chapter two

Nolan's POV:

"You have an interview today at 6 pm". My mother or manager informed.

"Thaught I have a day off" That rarely happens and I hate interviews. So many lies and very carefuly chosen words. Fortunately I don't have to attend one of those often. I'm a model after all.

"Change of plans. Get over it and be ready." Ouch. So cold I would be probably frozen if I wasn't used to it. She's been like that since my dad's death.

He died when I was five so I hardly remember him. That doesn't stop me from missing him like a crazy, however.

The same goes for my mother so I understand her partly but I wish she was more... Motherly. I don't feel loved by her. She didin't hug me or said that she loves me since a funeral. So it's been over twelve years.

I think she's just using me for making many. After his death she couldn't make ends met. It was hard for a single mother. So she took me on casting to an advertisement. I won and this is how it started.

I was a child with face from a chocolate box then started modeling for bigger brands and traveled more.

Currently, I'm model for Chanel. We're rich now but apparently it's not enough for her. She never asked me if I want to stop modeling or if I even like it.

"Oh I almost forgot to tell you, we're flying to Portland next week, you're going to take a part in a fashion show there"

Oh? She told me that week before? Usually she says day before or better: Pack your shits. We're living in two hours.

So I go to school here and there, for a copule weeks, months. Then move to another city or country.

I've had a real home only once, I bet you figured out when. We were living in Ohio.

With that she left my hotel room and went who knows where.

I've never had real friends because everyone wants me only for my fame and looks and I always leave so there's no sense in making friends.

I looked around. The room is very big luxurious. Walls are beige. It suits to dark brown furnitures in gothic style. And large bed with a baldachim. But the best part in whole room is the balcony. It isn't too big. A view there is amazing. Especially at night when stars and city lights illuminate old, parish buildings. I understand why people adore this city.

Deciding to enjoy the view I took some alcohol from mini bar and a cig and went there. Yeah, I know ugly habits. But after I drink and smoke things gets bearable.

I was sitting in chair smoking while letting wind to play with my hair.

My mother chose this hotel becouse of its surroundings. It's not in the center of town and it's not so loud and crowded here.

When I was done I jumped to the shower cabin  and washed my body with ridiculously expensive soap. After drying my body with towel I used body lotion and some cream on face.

Walking to a closed I decided to wear greay skinny jeans, blak plain v-neck and dark jeans jacket.

"You're ready, great. Come on. We're going on lunch" My mother came inside suddenly making me jump and drop my hair brush.

"I told you to knock" She ignored my comment.

We had a little "spare time" so we went to a charming restaurant on the corner. Nothing to fancy, we would need a reserwation. It's still isn't cheap but food is great.

We got a table for two and sat down right when our waitress came. She was cute and pettit girl. Probably a year or two older than me. She had short hair cut and hazel eyes.

"Bonjour" she greeted.
"Bonjour" we responded

"la carte, sil vous plâit". Girl watched me closly with a focused look on her face.

"Voila." She gave us menu and walked away. We were reading in silence. After ten minutes she returned.

"Qu'est-ce que vous désires?" We told our orders.

"Exuses-moi, vous ressembles familier." she said to me so I pretended to be stupid an just looked at her weird.

"How unprofessional of her." My mother complained.

After twenty minutes she gave us our dishes. "Sil vous plâit."

"Tu es Nolan Leto!" girl squeled before we could anserw. She recognised me, ufortunately. People started looking at us.

"Exuses-moi, je suis votre fan" she blushed and asked me for autograph.

I gave it.

I don't understand why I have fans. What am I doing so right that they adore me? Breathing? If that's the case they should get enough of me. Who knows how long am I going to live? You know, accidents happen. At least she finally left us alone to eat.

Let's just say my mother's apetite was gone after that...