"What Are You Waiting For?" || ORIGINAL STORY.

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Darren's POV.

The weeks kept on passing, and the more I've been busy with photoshoots and fashion events.

I hardly had time for home or anything.

I kept on thinking about Tanya non-stop.

What did she think when she saw me on TV?

What did she think when she saw me during interviews?

What did she think when I made my appearance at a fashion event?

What. Did. She. Think?.

It was frustrating.

I never thought I'd be so bothered by someone's opinion, especially someone I've only known briefly.

But somehow, her thoughts and opinion mattered to me.

I wanted to know what she thought about me, and it was driving me insane that I didn't.

I was getting ready for another photoshoot, my mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Tanya.

As the makeup artist applied powder to my face, I found myself staring off into space, my thoughts elsewhere.

"Hey, Darren," The photographer called out to me. "You're spacing out. We need you to be focused."

I shook my head, snapping out of my reverie.

"Right. Sorry about that." I said, plastering on my usual modelling expression.

The photoshoot went on as usual, with me posing and striking different poses for the cameras.

But as soon as the shoot was over and I was left alone in my changing room, my thoughts started to wander again.

I sat down in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.

The person looking back at me was the same face that had appeared on magazines, billboards, and television screens.

But now, I couldn't help but wonder what Tanya would think if she saw me like this.

Would she be impressed?

Repulsed?

Or just indifferent?

I had no idea, and that frustrated me.

I was used to people reacting to me in a certain way... but Tanya was different.

She didn't seem to be fazed by my fame or popularity.

She seemed indifferent, caring more about me as a normal person rather than a famous model.

And that made me all the more intrigued by her.

I had to admit, it was refreshing to meet someone who didn't fawn over me or treat me like some kind of celebrity.

But at the same time, it was maddening that I couldn't get a read on her.

I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair.

Why was I even thinking so much about this?

I had never been this preoccupied with anyone before.

It was almost like she had cast some kind of spell on me.

I tried to push her out of my mind, but she kept creeping back in.

It was like she had lodged herself into my brain and wouldn't leave.