𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨. Model, actress, celebrity. At the age of 22 Gianna already has everything or at least that's what everyone thinks.
But in reality, her life couldn't be more of a mess. Where there's money there's alcohol, where there's pa...
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Everyone was looking at me, talking about me... I wonder if people really think I can't hear them or they just don't care. I want to believe it's the first one but realistically, it probably isn't. Everyone has a lot to say when you know the person you are badmouthing won't defend themselves. If I confronted everyone who said something bad about me I would be blacklisted at every firm. The modeling world is a lot more brutal than people think because to the brands you are just a body, a pretty face, they are the ones who control everything. And if you do something they don't approve of, you are out.
"How did it go? Think they will give it to you?" My mother asks the second I step outside the room into the hallway, Pretty boy standing right behind her.
Surprisingly he had been so... polite? I guess that's the word. And truth be told, I hated it. He had promised me a challenge, is that really how he is going to play his cards? Because if that's all he has to offer I will have him running out of here in less than a week, and where is the fun in that?
"I don't know, mom. They will call in a few days to let us know." Moving around the mass of women I get to the main door and quickly open it, leaving without saying another word. My mom and Russo close behind.
Do I think I'm going to get the job? Yes, of course I do. Why am I so sure? First, because I'm damn good at my job, and second because I have done enough castings to know when the directors are liking me or not. And I know for a fact they were liking me. Being my mother's daughter opened me the main big door into the modeling world, it's true, and I would never be where I am today if it wasn't for her name but that doesn't mean I don't also work hard. I take my job very seriously, partly because it's really all I have got.
"Come on Gianna, we both know you are always able to tell if they were feeling you or not." My mother does a little sprint to try and end up at my side so I obviously walk even faster making her try harder. She hates running. "Gianna," she grips my forearm. "You know how much I dislike having to run after you, stop the bullshit, and walk as any normal person would."
"This is how I walk." I brush her hand off my arm and keep the same pace.
I can't deal with her anymore, she is always extra controlling when castings are involved but today? Today she overstepped a lot more than usual.
"Fine, do whatever you want." My mother huffs allowing me to keep marching as she slows her movements. Fucking finally.
"You know, you could have given me a heads up and told me to bring sneakers instead of dress shoes." Pretty boy, who for a second I had completely forgotten was there, mutters humorously. Staying right behind me without effort.
"God, you are still here." You can tell exactly how happy I am to know he is still around just by the tone of my voice.
I don't even know why I said he could start on Monday, him coming to a casting with me makes zero sense. What is he going to protect me from? A bunch of twenty-something-year-old models who have probably not eaten anything since yesterday except half an almond? I wasn't thinking clearly that day. Ugh, I allowed him to get inside my head and he hadn't even done anything, he just stood there, unfazed in the middle of my lawyer's office.
