Trapped In Me

Prologue

You can imagine her as Lorenzo Forrest. Or not.

"Just because you're good-looking, doesn't mean that you have to be a bitch about it, Lo," Anna said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Me? Bitch? Never.

I rolled my eyes at her childish attitude and then continued applying the mascara over my right eye, as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

"I'm merely stating a fact, Anna. And don't you dare call me 'Lo' again. Sounds cheap."

You won't believe how many people agree with me on that.

I took a step back and examined my right eye on my reflection carefully. Just a few more tweaks and it'll be perfect...

"Shut up!" She yelled, storming out of my make-up room.

Friends can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. Wait no, change that to always. They're always a pain in the ass.

All I had said was that wasn't looking as pretty as me, as usual. I mean, it's the truth, right? And besides, don't they say that a good man will be honest no matter how painful the truth is and that only a coward hides beneath lies and deceit? That be truthful even if you don't want to? Rather, in this case, I wanted to. My beauty is something I'm proud of.

Blinking my eyes a few times to make sure that the mascara looked perfect, I heard something unpleasant.

My cellphone started blowing up with my least favorite ringtone. And of course, I set different ringtones for different people, according to their importance and the fondness I carry for them.

Everyone I know does that.

Why does that stupid manager need to call me a gazillion times an hour? It's not like I've got any photoshoot or interview today. Today's a free day, a day I get to me, myself and I.

I sighed but answered it anyway. If I didn't, he would create a fuss.

"What now?" I asked exasperatedly, staring at my reflection, and tucking a strand of platinum blonde hair behind my ear.

"Meet me at my house. We have some important matters to discuss," he answered, curtly, which was then followed by a small 'oof'.

"I-I mean, yeah. Important...model stuff. Um, your presence is required," he said, sounding unsure.

So straightforward. No hello, no 'how are you' and even no 'I'm sure you look pretty today. But what can I expect from him, anyway?

Wait, why did his voice sound so...I don't know, deep? Hoarse? His voice is high-pitched and annoying. But this sounded more threatening.

"What's wrong with your voice?" I questioned.

"Just a cold," he replied and then grunted. "You know, the changes in weather. They give me the chills and awful cold."

Makes sense. Cold can do a lot to your voice, like transform Barbie's voice into Batman's.

Although he sounds very unlike himself. My manager, James, is pretty straightforward and well, more formal.