Nikki Sixx prys himself on being in the sleaziest dirtiest rock band Motley Crue. He is considered the bad boy of Rock 'n Roll and has a reputation that proves it. He meets the highest-paid fashion model in the world, Iman Darlington who is the comp...
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Jess sat cross-legged on the couch, sipping tea while I paced near the kitchen island, my nerves slowly taking over.
"Three days," I said aloud, mostly to myself. "Three days until I'm standing in front of a camera again, pretending I don't feel like a completely different person."
Jess gave me that calm, grounding look she always had, the one that said Breathe, Iman. But my thoughts were racing. It wasn't just about fitting into the clothes or hitting the poses, it was about feeling like me again. And honestly, I wasn't sure I did.
"I mean, I know my body has changed, I'm not in denial," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. "I grew a human, Jess. I stretched, I scarred, and some of that stuff doesn't just bounce back no matter how many squats I do. What if the camera picks it all up? What if they regret hiring me?" My voice cracked.
I wasn't even sure if I was more scared of failing or being invisible. Jess set her mug down and crossed the room to hug me, and I leaned into it like I needed the strength.
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eye.
"They didn't call you because they wanted any model, Iman. They called because they wanted you. The woman who broke record after record and made history. The woman who built a business and raised a baby and is still walking like a damn goddess."
I let out a soft laugh, tears stinging my eyes. Her words helped. God, they did but that fear still lingered, deep in my belly, whispering that I wasn't ready. Still, I nodded. I had three days to find her again the woman Jess saw again. The one I used to be.
I reached across the table, snatched the newspaper, and tore off a small strip from the corner. Jess tilted her head as I nonchalantly stuck it in my mouth and started chewing. Her eyes widened.
"Are you... Chewing paper?" She asked slowly, her tone teetering between horror and fascination.
I held up a finger as I chewed. "Don't judge me. It's been helping me calm down."
We stared at each other in silence for a moment. I with a guilty paper wad in my cheek, she blinked in stunned disbelief and then we both burst out laughing.
I slid down onto the couch, laughing so hard I had to wipe my eyes. My whole body sagged with relief from the moment of silliness.
"God, what is happening to me?" I muttered, rubbing my face with both hands. "I used to be on the cover of Vogue and now I'm stress-chewing the Lifestyle section."
Just then, I heard the soft thumping of little feet, and Julius came wobbling into the room like a tiny king, his pacifier bobbing in his mouth and his arms lifted in that sweet, unmistakable baby signal: Pick me up.
I leaned forward and scooped him into my arms, breathing in his warmth and baby scent.
"Your mommy has a photo shoot in three days and she's so scared," I said to him softly, resting my forehead against his. "What should I do, Juju?"
