Alexandria Woods is the woman who has it all. Starring in every film and TV series possible, she's taking the industry by storm.
However, not everything is as perfect as it seems. Alexandria lives in constant fear of somebody finding out about her...
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I don't want to be here. Lethargic feelings coat my body in a thick paste, my bones heavier, my feet harder to lift and my brain constantly buffering. I don't want to be here. Everywhere I look, my head hurts. Everything that my eyes take in, causes me discomfort. There's absolutely nothing that's appealing about being here.
The day after Alex and I's relationship fell apart and now, my mind is falling apart too. Booked into a press day months in advance, I couldn't back out of my plans but god, did I want to. On my second photo shoot of the day, my body is tired and my mind is drained. I bother to look at my phone this morning but it now sings to me with temptation, the everlasting question of has she texted? Pulling me in. But I ignore the pull of temptation because I know that she wouldn't of texted last night.
The shouting. The crying. The loss. All of it has compiled into one mass of an ache inside of me, one that Alex used to fill. But after she walked out on our relationship last night, I know that's she's not going to fill that hole any longer nor is she going to text. My hopes have been crushed and I'm finding it hard to get the inspiration to piece it all back together again - one speck of dust at a time.
But regardless of if I want to be here or not, I'm going to have to do this. I pull my body into weird positions and ignore everyone around me as I pose for a camera who's incessant clicking noise is really starting to get on my nerves. The photographer is bending around me, squatting as he desperately tries to get the right angle.
On a photo-shoot for a magazine cover that I'm doing, my body screams with hatred as I look into the camera. I despise photo-shoots, they're so awkward. I've been labelled a model for the numerous photo shoots I've done, but that's just due to good photographers - I don't have a passion for it. But, admittedly, I don't care that there's a whole team in front of me watching what I do today whilst a man hops around with a camera. I don't care what any of them do because it will be worth it if this mundane task of standing in front of a white background momentarily takes my mind off of Alex.
Alex.
My chest hollows out whenever I think of her. My initial instinct is anger, but there's longing in it too. Mingled in, ever so slightly, dulling down the anger that I felt with her last night when everything fell apart.
But the problem is, I can't take my mind off of her. When I woke up this morning, when I sat in the hair and make-up chair, when I had an outfit change - thoughts of her are following me everywhere. It's impossible to take my mind off of her and even though I want the photoshoot to do the impossible, I know it's useless.
However hard I try, her voice cracking pierces my ears. Her shouts echo through my brain. Her hands clutched into fists is the only image my eyes have ever captured and the way the door slammed last night is still ringing in my ears. There's nothing I can do to get her out of my head.
"Okay, Theo, I need you to look moody. Let's get serious." The photographer calls, finally backing up to get a shot from further away.
And for the first time in eighteen hours, I feel humor. Moody is the only thing I'm capable of right now.
