That's the Bro (boyxboy)

30

"This fenty shit expensive, $18 for some lipgloss?"

I snort, taking the receipt from the cashier with a grateful smile as Elias glares at the little bag.

"She's said only the best," I remind him and Elias rolls his eyes, grumbling as we leave Sephora.

"She definitely can't pick the color we wearing, I'm not wearing neon anything. Fuck I look like."

I huff out a laugh and nearly freeze in my tracks at the sight of my own face on the display wall of forever 21. Elias nearly runs into my back before cursing and then halting too.

"Oh shit, that's you."

I breathe, taking in the group photo a little oddly. "Yeah, it is."

The whole ordeal still seemed unreal. Sending in my portfolio, getting approved, telling my mom and suffering her telling everyone on Facebook, the photo shoot, the publication—

It was insane.

Now, I had other agencies trying to scout me and my mom is saying that I need a manager and I'm contemplating on really doing this...

Modeling, doing something with myself. Or better yet, for myself. It's fun and competitive, I've never been shy in front of a camera and I love expressing myself with my art or clothes.

Having everyone looking at me can be overwhelming at times especially when they judge but here— now, as I watch Elias's face and his eyes as he tilts his head and takes in my amateur model expressions and smiles.

I think,  "Yeah... I could probably do this."

And nothing else matters when he turns to me with that proud smile and pulls out his phone to snap a picture — of me — all while saying, "look at you," with that boyish, rare laugh of his.

I think of how proud I feel of myself then and how I want to go as far as I can with this. Most people at my age already know what they want in life, they know what they want to do, they know where they want to be, but me?

I've never had a clue.

Even when I was younger I had no aspirations for the future, no career that really stuck out to me. I loved school but it was more of an outlet rather than genuine likeness — just like my art.

My art was personal, I never thought I'd ever make a career out of it — wasn't sure that I'd ever even want to. It wasn't until I met Elias that I even started drawing or painting anything that wasn't remotely depressing or had underlying attachment to what I endured for so long as a child.

Modeling was definitely nothing I ever thought about.

Sure, I had an Instagram feed that I took great pride in but it's just me. Photos of my art, my friends and family, and well... me.

I'm nothing special so I couldn't understand why Elias was grinning at me like that, or why my mom was so ecstatic when I shared the news, or even why these agencies were trying to scout me.

Nonetheless, I was proud of myself because I'm here and apparently I'm worthy of a little bit of happiness after so much pain.

And it felt good, it felt real good.

"Come on, stand by it so I can take a picture," Elias urges and I smile timidly, feeling embarrassed as I rush over to the giant display of myself and smile awkwardly.

"Your mom is going to love this," he says as he — more awkwardly than me— snaps a few pictures of me.

I snort, when he looks down at his phone with a smile he can't seem to wipe away. "She's going to love it or you?" I ask, walking back over to him.