Some Sokeefe for the Shipping Soul

Modeling

Sophie stared at the pristine white business card in her hands for the trillionth time, words running through her head for the as she sat on her couch in her apartment. When she had left the elven world, she had expected to be able to blend in seamlessly as she had done before, even setting three rules for herself to make sure she did so.

1. Don't stand out under any circumstances.
2. Stay single and friendless. Relationships only equal complications.
3. Don't reconcile with any old friends from the human world.

She had followed these rules diligently since she had arrived. She bought a house away from San Diego to avoid seeing any old family members or classmates, finished high school, and got a full-ride scholarship to Harvard. She had made sure to wear dull clothes as to not attract attention, either negative or positive. When people stared at her, she merely thought they thought she was weird or that they were looking at someone else.

She was wrong.

Sophie knew that elves were naturally more attractive than humans, but she thought she was the only exception. What she didn't realize was that she had gotten famous on campus, known as "the mysterious hot girl who never talks".

One day, as Sophie was scrolling through Instagram, she noticed she had a lot of follow requests (for her account was private). She declined all of them (which took quite a while because they were a lot). After she deleted the requests, she finished her homework for law school and went to bed. A couple of hours later, she was rudely awakened by her phone pinging and vibrating rapidly like it was possessed. She grabbed her phone from the bedside table and checked the time. It was 2:34 AM, nowhere near the time she was supposed to wake up. As she looked at her notifications, she saw they were all from Instagram. She opened the app to find that all if the same people she had declined had come back in full force, and it looked like there were more people too. Sophie groaned in frustration and in a fit of rage she made her account public and went back to sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she checked Instagram to see that there were no more follow requests. She breathed a sigh of relief and checked her profile. She gasped in surprise.

Over the course of no more than 5 hours, her account had jumped from 5 followers to 5 million. She rubbed her eyes and stared at her phone again. Scratch that, make that 6 million. She slammed her phone down on the table and got up to get ready for school.

When she entered the Harvard campus, she noticed that people weren't even disguising their stares anymore, men and women ogling her as she walked down the hallway. It felt like they were undressing her with their eyes alone. She wrapped her arms around herself and started speed-walking to class.

As she entered the lecture hall, she noticed that everyone in the class had gotten there before her, leaving the only open seats in the front of the room, instead of the very back where she normally sat. She walked toward the front row and sat down, feeling the stares burning into her back as she sat. She tried to ignore it and pay attention in class, but she couldn't shake the feeling that continued through all of her classes.

When class was finally over, she left the campus at top speed to get to the parking lot. She sprinted toward the car, and shut the door. She sat in the driver's seat and tried to breathe
and slow her panicked heart rate. Suddenly, there was a knock on her window, turning around, she looked to see a man in a suit asking her to roll down the window. She locked the door and opened it tentatively. The man smiled and extended a hand to shake.

"Hello, my name is Carlos Ramirez, and I am the publicity agent for the Victoria's Secret modeling company. My superiors and I have seen your Instagram account and think you have a lot of potential. Tell me, have you done any modeling before?"