Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

        

   

                  Flashing lights welcomed me as I walk towards the stage. My hips were swaying in every step while maintaining my shoulders at rest. I am just glad to be in this spotlight. Everybody is here to watch me. Even the highest paid actor is here almost drooling in my look.

       

                   I catch his stare. I gave a seductive smile and look at him intently. His eyes were burning and so is my body. But before he can make a move, I took a step back and walk again towards the dressing area.

       

                    My face threw a sour look as I was welcomed by my stylist with a hair brush on his hand and a spray net on the other.

       

                    “Do you really need to change my hair look?” I asked. I was annoyed and pissed. I didn’t wait for her response and just walked towards my dressing room, slamming the door shut before she can enter.

     

                      Every time I have to walk in a runway, I have to change my hair. Can’t they realize that my hair is already perfect? Do I have to cut into pixie just to let them miss it? Appreciate it?

       

                    I let out a huff and unhooked my brazier that I was modelling. Finally! My breast can freely move. I take a look at the lingerie in my hand. It was a simple triangle shape pads that has red as its dominant colour and black for its accents. It is supported by a fishnet like strings and only my niple were not exposed on this. This costs about one million dollars. 

   

                    Who in the fuck in their right mind would where this in public?

       

                    I shivered at that thought, realizing that I just did it a while ago. Modelling for years can be tiresome too, but seeing my face in different camera angles and magazine cover makes me pursue this more.

     

                   A loud knock interrupted my thoughts. “Just a sec,” I whispered and opened the door slightly. I was just wearing the thong that I ramped a while ago. I really don’t care about hidden cameras. If they would film me here, with my naked upper body, I would be honoured. After all, bad publicity is still good publicity.

            

                    “Woah!” he shouted and covered his eyes with a compact mirror that he was holding. I rolled my eyes and drag him inside my room.

   

   

                    “Dress up, will you?” he pleaded. I scoffed and find my red silk robe. I lazily cover my body almost taking a minute or two. 

   

   

                    “Done,” I announced and sit at the couch. “Are you happy?”

                     “Damn girl! I love your robe.” He squealed when he finally saw me covered.

   

                        My eyes won’t stop rolling. How long has it been since I’ve seen this bitch? A year? Maybe more than that.

   

                    “Oh, shut up Marco!” i waved my hand to silence his high pitch scream.

       

                    He is Marco. Marco Levin my best friend since God-knows when. We attended different schools but stayed in the same house. We are like siblings but not blood related. And I don’t know why my parents let him stay in our house when we were in middle school.

   

   

                    “Damn! I just saw how you walked that stage earlier. Girl! You made it on fire!” he stated when he finally recovered on staring at my half pound layers of caked face, and the silk robe I am wearing.

                            I cringe on his statement and look at him with ‘are you serious?’ look.

       

                        He never complimented me, ever. Well, maybe during our prom when I look like a drag queen rather than the prom queen.  

   

                    “What is it you wanted to ask me this time?” I raised my brow. He sadly pouts and glances at my jewelry box.

   

                      Of course, money.

   

                    I scratched my palms, feeling like a woman in deep heat. In this case, it is fueled by anger.

                 How many times does he have to ask me for money?

   

                       He can’t just show up, and then ask for it! Plus, I can still remember how he accompanied me to drink in every pub almost every night years ago.

   

                        I mean, I like his company. I really do. Especially when his jet black hair is bouncing on the dance floor as he dirty dance some man. While he make out with some random stranger under the stroking lights of the club. How he will leave me for the night just to get a good fuck. Then cry onto the next day when they leave him. Yeah, a good company.

   

   

   

                    “Lia,” he called. I snapped out of my angry thoughts and look at him with my deadly eyes. “I am still talking to you-“

   

   

                    “Goodness, Marco. Who in the world did you sleep with for these past few weeks?” I cutted him and stared at his worn out clothes. I bet he didn’t wash it for days now. It reeks sweat and cologne.

   

                    “Have you heard me, Lia?”

   

                    Ignored him and stood up to find some decent new clothes for him in my rack. Good thing I found my oversized Gucci shirt.

   

                    “I won’t hear it, Marco,” I replied and tossed the shirt towards him. His reflexes were too slow to catch it, but good thing I am good at throwing away things and people.

   

                     “Why do you have this limited edition shirt?” he asked amused. I gave him a blank stare.

   

                      Have he forgotten that I am a model?

   

                    Before I can utter a word, we heard a knock on my door.

   

   

                    “As much as I want to catch up with you,” I walk outside the dressing room. I grab my wallet that was filled with cash and tossed it towards him. “The show must go on.”

       

                “Wait Lia!” he screamed before I slam the door shut.

   

                 When will he ever grow up? He always asks for money then leave. After few months he will come back and ask for more. Good thing I have extra cash for his petty excuses.

   

                I rolled my eyes out of annoyance and walk towards my stylist. I gave her a blank stare and she immediately gathered her assistant to prepare me for the last dress I was going to model.

   

                My phone beeped and a message popped from my mail.

   

   

                   From MarcoLevin1214:

   

                 Thank you so much, Lia! Promise I will spend this money wisely! I won’t disappoint you!

   

                XOXO!

   

   

                    I let out a growl after reading it. My stylist stops curling my hair and look me with fright. I motioned my hand, telling her to go on with her work. She must’ve thought that I was annoyed with my hair. Well I really am. But Marco is more annoying.

   

   

   

                    “Is this it?” My two eyeballs almost pop from its socket when I was dressed almost naked.

   

   

                “Yes ma’am.” One of my stylist’s assistant replied.

   

                  I winced and inspected myself on the mirror. I can’t believe I have to wear a lingerie for the final ramp.

   

   

                    “Shit.”  I muttered and gritted my teeth. I looked away from the mirror. Roaming my eyes on the backstage, I saw some of my co-models taking selfies to post for their social media account. Others were vlogging and some were preparing to ramp again.

   

   

                I flipped my hair and sat on my chair. I heard some of them giggling at my outfit, while some were amazed. The designers were smirking as if the saw me as their little doll in their dress up salon.

   

   

                   Damn their stares!!!

   

                I glared at each of them and focused on my cue to stand and walk in the line for the last ramp.

   

   

                As usual, I made my way to the stage. No hesitation, no shyness. I can see men drooling over me and some girls with their mouths agape. I continued to walk and saw the actor a while ago.

   

                    Kean Farrusco.

   

                 There was acid in my mouth as I remembered his name. This man will be my toy for this evening.

   

                    I made a mental smirk with the thought of it. Something’s to kill my time while I am here in this rotted city.

   

                 My eyes feast with that spark in his eyes. With a little flint and steel in the gasoline, I was set on fire. The stage became my own version of inferno.

   

   

                    I stopped on the near edge and posed for the camera. But that didn’t stop me from looking at his onyx eyes. I blink as I heard the whole crowd whistling and clapping their hands for me.

   

                  Am I happy?

   

                Damn I am!

   

                I felt like all my energy was charged and all that annoyance from earlier disappeared.

       

                    This is my life. I am Emilia Lucille De Lapaz. And no one is allowed to step on me again.