Platinum // H.S.

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3 AM

Why am I not asleep?

Here I am, lying in bed, left alone to drown in my own thoughts.

I close my eyes, and recall the events of today.

Today was horrid.

Now, to those of you completely unaware of what the fashion industry is like, I'll tell you this:

It's nothing like you expected it to be.

Models don't own luxury sports cars, we don't live in mansions by the beach, we just aren't what you thought we were.

We live in rundown apartments in New York City, we take the subway to work, our agencies make us devour cotton balls soaked in orange juice, so we remain thin.

It's only sunshine and rainbows if you're a big shot.

Anyway, I was at a casting.

The designer was very well known, so getting in his show would mean the world to a model.

I got in, along with quite a few others.

But there was this girl.

She was one of the most beautiful girls in the latter, but she was black.

There's nothing wrong with being black.

But to casting directors, there was something wrong with being black.

She was beautiful, and she had amazing potential, but they rejected her.

Why?

Because they already had two black girls in the show.

What's really sad about that, is the fact that if you speak up, you put your job in danger, so you have no choice but to watch the girl break down in tears.

The world is sick and vile.

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A/N:
I'm so sorry this has nothing to do with Harry Styles.
The rest of the book will be different, I promise!