Model

Nine

Chapter Nine

Fabiola Grachi

I stare into the mirror. I criticise my eyre move, the raise of my hand, when I blink. My eyes trace my body. I can't believe this is the first time I've felt this. Before I set foot in the agency, I knew something like this was bound to happen. Just not this soon. Well, I guess I'm going to have to make a few adjustments. I'm tired, I skipped dinner, I just want to go to sleep. I stuff some tissues into my mouth and put my head under the covers.

The Day Before.............

No one slowed down until Fabiola Grachi's car pulled up at the curb. Marcus and I were standing outside with Rochelle, freezing cold in our short, summer-like clothes. He opened the door and stepped our. His eyes were covered by tinted shades and he wore a suit which looked like it had been bought this morning. His eyes looked Marcus up and down. Then he turned to me and screwed up his nose.

"Who is this?" He asks Rochelle, pointing at me. What a greeting.

"Mr. Grachi, this is one of our newest models, Ashley Whits." She forced a smile. I did the same.

"And why is she standing with Marcus?" He said, pointing some more.

"We're a package deal," I blurted out.

Rochelle shoots me a look. "Shall we head on in?"

Fabiola gives us one final look and shoves the door open.

Once we're inside, he gets even more irritating. He is constantly looking at people like they are nothing but litter on the sidewalk. He sits in on all the other shoots before ours, writing things down and talking to Rochelle so fast I can't even hear what he is saying. He doesn't say anything more to Marcus and I until the shoot begins.

"Show me what I want to see," he says. Whatever that is.

Marcus and I start our shoot. As I suspected by our lack of sleeves, it's a summer theme and I find myself posing with beach balls and surfboards. I'm smiling and doing my best and not muttering a word. The photographer nervously turns towards him.

"They're done,"

"Finally, time for lunch?" He says to Rochelle. She replies with a 'yes' and we're on our way to the lunch room.

Once we get there, I realise I'm starving. I head straight over to the table. I'm about to grab a salad sandwich when I feel a hand on the back pulling me away. It's Fabiola.

"Come with me," he says.

We enter an empty room and I have no idea what's coming next. I feel like some kind of bomb is going to fall out of the sky and blow me up. Yes, I'm that nervous.

"Take of your clothes,"

Boom.

"What?" I exclaimed, spellbinded at his request.

"I said take them off."

"I'm not going to take off my clothes for you that's disgusting!" I shout.

"I need to get a better look at you, it's completely professional, do you want to be a professional?" He looks deep into my eyes. I sigh and remove my hat, shoes and dress.

It's really cold and I feel even colder because there is a man I haven't even know for a day looking at me in my underwear. It's awkward as hell and I'm getting many urges to punch him. But I contain myself for just a few minutes more. Once he's finished, he stands up and sighs.

"You need to lose some weight. Skinny is in right now, not curvy. I'm going to have my assistant send you a diet list. Until then, try to limit the eating. You can out your clothes back on now."

"Wait, you're telling me I'm fat?" I say, my throat burning. But he has already left the room.

The day replays in my head one thousand times before I get to sleep.

My stomach growls.

A/N:

It feels like one thousand years since I updated this.

But I've decided I'm going to update all my stories a lot more from now on.

livv_grimm