When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was so strange, like they had forgiven each other, without a word. Was some pain not worth keeping?
She was holding on so tightly to her pride that her knuckles were turning white. Then he came along, got close to her, and something inside of her unlatched and there she was back again. Completely handing her happiness over to him, with open palms.
Isabelle barely paid attention during the presentation. She said hi to the other models, and posed for a couple of PR shots.
The whole time, though, she kept thinking about after the event. She couldn't wait. She was feeling strange things all at once, and she couldn't really pinpoint any single one. Attraction....fear...something erotic..she didn't know.
She kept looking at her phone, checking the time.
Then for the 100th time, looking at her phone, her heart stopped in her chest and her eyes widened.
There it was, the name that her phone so missed seeing.
Milo
"Here's the address for tonight, in case you don't have it:.."
She looked up and around her room, she hadn't seen him since his presentation.
The slideshow was rotating through shots of the models, including hers in that wedding dress.
She felt surreal as if nothing made sense anymore. Actually, she felt drunk, and she didn't mind.
She only had one glass of champagne, but it might as well have been lines that she was on.
Finally, after making the rounds of conversations, she was interrupted by her manager.
"It's time, Izzy, the address is," her manager began, but she interrupted her.
"I know, Milo sent it to me," Isabelle said as if in a dream.
Her manager raised her eyebrows and paused for a brief moment, but didn't think much of it.
"Okay," the manager exhaled looking at her phone, perpetually stressed, Isabelle thought. "The car will pick you up in 10. Oh and Iz?" Her manager, Chloe, said suddenly, "be nice, okay?"
Isabelle opened her mouth incredulously playfully, "I'm always nice, Chloe!"
"This could be a really big move for your career. If you play your cards right," Chloe went back to her phone.
"You have no idea..." Isabelle's voice trailed off.
She looked at her own phone. She wanted to message Milo, but she tried to use everything inside of her to stop herself. She was going to play it cool. Even though, on the inside, she felt red hot.
In the car, she blacked out she couldn't remember getting to the restaurant. Nor did she remember giving her name to the host, who led her to the table was half full, and sat her right across from Milo.
