SERAPHINA

CHAPTER 45

~Depression isn't a medical condition. It's personal preference~
~Mina.

SERAPHINA'S POV
"No, not like that. Do not hunch your shoulders. No, do not straighten them too far either, you don't wanna give them the impression of a robot."

Remind me again why I agreed to train with Peyton. The model has been disregarding my walks and poses for thirty minutes straight.

"How can you expect me to be good at this when you've been doing nothing but consuming chocolate bars for the past half an hour? " I exasperated. She ignored me and tore open another bar.

"You should be your own priority. You want what I have, so sweat it out." To aggravate me further, she jutted her chocolate-covered tongue out, making me grimaced in disgust and looked away.

"What are you waiting for? Start from the top." She demanded. I rolled my eyes and moderately squared my shoulders to maintain that desired posture, walking from the corner of the room to where Peyton stood, adding that spicy sway to my hips. Not outrageous, but just enough to ginger up the crowd.

Peyton nodded in approval for the first time since training began, resembling Yolanda Hadid when Gigi and Bella rocked Victoria's Secret runway. I halted a metre away from her and posed with my right leg a bit ahead of the left. I mentally counted to three like Peyton advised, and did a sharp turn before walking back.

"Yayeeeeeee! you go girl! I'm proud." She gushed, clasping her hands and pretending to wipe imaginary tears. I don't know why, but seeing that proud smile on Peyton's face washed me with a sense of satisfaction.

"After unnecessarily torturing me." I snorted, removing the metal rods I'd been made to walk on.

"It'll be worth it. I'm treating you to dinner today. C'mon, let's go." Say what now?

"You? treating me to dinner?" I slowly reiterated, unable to shake off the surprise underlying my tone.

"I didn't speak Uzbek now, did I?"

"My bad." I raised my arms in surrender and shrugged on my blazer, joining her in the lobby.

We left together to the garage and after a prolonged debate on whose car should be taken, Peyton took the upper hand and drove us to Katz's Delicatessen. One of the biggest restaurant joints in New York.

Unlike my assumption that we'll be kicked out since Peyton didn't make a reservation beforehand, I was shocked when the security guards remained rooted on spot upon our arrival.

"You practice voodoo or something? " I whispered after we settled in our seats.

"Connections, babe." She smirked, flicking her hair. A waiter about my age approached our table and we gave him our orders. I didn't miss the wink he sent my way though. Peyton wiggled her brows at me and gestured towards the counter, where the guy stood with his coworkers, staring at me.

"I'm taken, sis." I rolled my eyes, going through the menu to kill time.

"People have five to ten partners and didn't die. It's called living life, honey."

"Do you mean you?" I arched an accusing brow.

"It's fun." She shrugged, tapping her nails on the table. Our orders arrived shortly after and I wasted no time delving into my food. I was hungry okay, and at some time my stomach was yearning to join a drumming line.