Jezebel Mercado's life as a single mother and model is a challenging one. Content with her child, but still struggling to make ends meet, Jezebel is determined to bring her son a life of comfort, and fulfill her life's dreams.
It was 3 in the morning. I'm still on my phone watching a bird eat a watermelon, it's very entertaining. But I didn't expect to be disturbed by my...Well, I guess you could call him my son. "Huh- what is it? Why are you up so late-err- early...?"
Vincent was crying, and he smelled like shit. "My poopoo! My poopoo!" Aww...you poor thing, you must have shat on the floor, huh?
"What happened to your poopoo?"
"Fly!"
Sigh, this is going to be one hell of a clean-up...Well, at least he's more open when he has an accident. The first time Vince threw up...well...he acted like I was going to hit him. I look back at that night... He handed me the stick and bawled his eyes out, but still tried to keep quiet.
Welp, I guess it's kind of my fault I didn't get at least one hour of sleep. I washed Vincent off and changed his clothes, then went off to the scene of the crime.
"It's okay, Vince" I pat his head, "Just...call me when you need to poo next time, alright? So I can help you" The kid nodded and I got to work.
Wait...work! Damn...I shouldn't have eaten that pizza last night and saved it for Vince's breakfast. You see, I work as a model. But...It's not as glamorous as you might think...
Some gigs are are picky, with very high standards that may mean intensive workouts and fasting. Others? Not so much. Just gotta look skinny and pretty. But even if it's a simple advertisement, most companies want to choose someone with fame...something I don't have.
I'm not a star, I'm just a pretty diamond, and that isn't enough. I'm no crown jewel, nor am I a wedding ring, I sit in a child's toy box, waiting to be found.
But now? I just gotta get ready for that photoshoot. If I'm going to want to get into the modeling world, I'm going to need some excellent photos to showcase in my portfolio. All of my measurements, including height and weight are listed down for people to see.
My breasts? A cup 32c. My waist? 25 inches. My hips? 33 inches. My shoe size? 40. My height? 6'0. My weight? 110 pounds. My complexion fits into the East Asian category, which is the only thing I can thank my daddy issues for.
"Mama...?"
Oh right, speaking of daddy issues...
"Vincent, I already told you to go to sleep..."
Sigh, I don't even know who his real parents are. Considering how complex that affair must be, it could be anyone.
"Aaaa...What's is...breakfast?"
"Why don't we think about that later? Mama has to go to work. Wait for Mr Clock's hand to point at 6"
"But Mama! It's already 6!"
"WHAT!?"
Oh God you've done it again, Jez, always losing track of time...
"I'm so sorry, baby, but mama is always thinking a lot!"
Damn it...looks like I'm going to have to bring Vince with me to the photoshoot.
I picked up a plain and simple outfit. For portfolio pics, it's important to showcase yourself as a blank canvas for your client to envision their product on.
I know this isn't going to be the only morning rush I'll be in....
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Author's note: I'm shaking, crying, throwing up. Anyway enjoy my first ever wattpad story (if you don't count the OTHER one...) and feel free to throw down some criticism since I am VERY inexperienced.
