Chapter 01

FOUR YEARS LATER

The flashes flickered in such rapid motions that my eyes turned into dark, crooked, blurry blurs. With each clicking sound  invading my eardrums, the more my brain forced itself to keep the smile exposed and the pupils perfectly focused, without offering pauses to get out of character.

—   Beautiful! Splendid! Wonderful!

My photographer praised endlessly, encouraging me to keep my breath set, my shoulders firm, and my head sticking out.

All for the perfect portrait.

All to please my boss.

All for the company.

All for my family.

Whenever I thought about giving up, ripping off that pinic, shiny, tacky outfit, I remembered why I'd been doing it. It only took a few words for my conscience to guide me back to reason.

—   The last one, Angel! —   the redhead said. —   Smile as if you had fulfilled all your dreams!

I did as he asked. I bared all my teeth, narrowed my ribs, pulled my hips, made my eye sockets burn so they could continue to sustain the flash.

But for a moment, I wondered... What dreams?

—   You were splendid!

In the end, I breathed again.

—   Take that outfit off me! Fast!

One of the girls who was helping me ran to answer my request and lowered the zipper that attached the fabric to my skin.

I ripped everything off and was given a bathrobe to cover myself.

—  Look how beautiful this is,—   Louis, the photographer, showed me.

It was perfect.

Beautiful.

It barely looked like me.

—   Sure, I made it pretty. —   I shrugged, receiving a shocked expression from the redhead.

—   You just have a cute little face, honey! I do the magic on camera!

I sat down on the dressing table in the studio to start taking my hair apart.

I hated those heavy clips.

He hated the smell of lacquer.

—   Look at that light! The contrast! The focus, the details, the pose, the centrality of the camera!

—   You're right, Louis. —   I snorted waiting for him to be silent.

I wasn't a grumpy person, but the studios and rehearsals filled me with patience.

—   I know I have, darling. It's not just because you're the queen of the company that catches all the attention.

He helped me get the last clip out of my hair when he saw that I couldn't reach it.

—  What would become of you without me?—   — was rhetorical as he held a cynical smile on his face. —   Swim!

I wanted to have the energy to be nice to him, but after the whole day of being the target of interviews, parades, and photos, I just wanted to be silent.

—   I can go home already, can't I?

Louis cared little for my tired face. He could disguise it in the camera angles.

—   If Rachel releases you. I've heard rumors that she wants you to launch the new brand of lipstick.

—   Another? What about Barbara?

—  Barbara is full of pimples on her face, I don't think she's going to want to appear on camera anytime soon. Louis lowered his tone and whispered, —  I think she's pregnant.

—   If she had, Rachel would have fired her by now.

—   Not until the belly starts to show. —   he caught the devilish chuckle.

Barbara was kind and loving, she didn't deserve the gossip that surrounded her.

I handed Louis a cotton wool to remove my makeup.

—  I'm not your private bitch, Backer. —   complained, but didn't hesitate to withdraw what I requested.

We weren't that friends, Louis was more of a friendly co—  worker who didn't dispense with a mean conversation. But if one day I needed to hide a body, I'd definitely call him.

—  You're going to lunch tomorrow, aren't you?—   — threw the cotton away when he finished one side of my face.

—   Cherri's?—   I wrinkled my nose at once.

—   How so? Are you crazy? — I opened my eyes to see his terrifying expression. —   If you don't show up, you're going to lose your job. You know you're the center of attention! Can you imagine your absence at the biggest langerie event in  Paris?

—   You said I wasn't the center of attention.

—   I'm wrong, girl! You know it is! —   Louis finished removing the makeup and punched me in the shoulder. — Angel Backer is on the cover of all magazines, a typical beauty of South America, a daring Brazilian! The one that is never late and does not fail in commitment! The one that joined Gucci and abandoned it just to help Diamond grow, even if she had to live in this end of the world that is the city of Boston!

Everything he quoted made no difference to me.

I wasn't passionate about my work, but it paid my bills and gave me the opportunity to continue in my hometown.

Diamond was already big when I accepted the proposal, but my influence abroad leveraged the brand, making it grow in many different areas.

That's what they were talking about. I didn't take that credit.

My job was to sit down, smile, and  sometimes say something. All the credit was not mine.

In fact, I didn't feel worthy of everything around me.

I was a disappointment to my younger self, a disappointment to my professors, to my principal and my university monitor. I knew that and they didn't hide that feeling very well. But I paid my sister's house bills and medicines. That was enough.

I had been at Diamond for years. After going viral with a dumb clip my sister posted on the internet, some agencies reached out to me and suddenly I saw Gucci behind me to photograph me.

After these unprecedented events, I ended up seeing a source of extra income. But later it became my livelihood and that of my family.

Photos, parades and interviews. That was my life.

If I was asked early on, back in high school, how likely I was to become a model, I would laugh. I would laugh until I cried. I would never accept it as a possibility. But it became so sudden that within five months, the zeros in my account made me dizzy.

I never understood the reason for my success. I was pretty, but I didn't know it would be enough to become Angel Backer.

My sister often says that people like the Brazilian traits I inherited from our mother. Others say that it is my self—  confidence (an ironic myth) and some say that I pass on sincerity, naturalness. None of these opinions bring me comfort.

I feel weak despite having everything I need.

The show was supposed to have been fleeting and now I'm a representative of the largest makeup and fashion company in the state.

—  So, you won't?   — he questioned when he saw me in silence.

—   No, Louis, I intend to take some break. I need to sleep.

—   Are you going to spend the weekend in Boston? How ridiculous! You're a celebrity!

I rolled my eyes.

—   I live here.

Louis grabbed my clothes so I could get out of the robe.

—   And I can't understand why.

—  Because I like it,—   I got dressed as soon as possible. —   Do you need anything else?

—   I don't. The photos were good, I'll send it to Rachel over the weekend.

—   So I'm going. —   I grabbed my bag.

—   Good luck with the scolding you're going to get from the media after you didn't go to Cherri!

I smiled calmly.

—   I've gotten over worse things.

I said goodbye to the rest of the team and went to the building's elevator, ready to leave that grueling studio.

Sometimes, in the silence of the car, when I drove alone through the empty streets of Boston, I wondered what would have happened if I hadn't accepted those invitations.

Maybe my life would be easier. Maybe I'd even have a boyfriend, a published article, a name in some reference.

My plan was to teach high school after I finished my degree, where I had studied my whole life. I wanted to be a part of teenagers' lives, I wanted to help them build a better world.

I longed to see a picture of them in the newspaper accompanied by a great scientific discovery. I wanted to make a difference in the world.

I think that's what my teachers saw in me; That feeling of influencing kindness. Maybe that's what my fans feel in me: encouragement. I bet that's my only quality in being a model. I like to show everyone that dreams are possible.

But I feel sad most of the time, even reading the positive comments from my interviews and seeing the likes piling up. I feel alone. Those voices only abandon me when I'm with my sister, because that's where I see meaning in everything.

That's where I understand why I left college in the fifth period and dedicated myself to the world of fashion.