Covergirl

01 | The City That Never Sleeps

NYC, the city that never sleeps.

At least that's what Frank Sinatra quoted in one of his infamous retro singles. And to be frank, he's damn right.

All day and all night, the streets remain a never-ending whirlwind of bustling people rushing off to complete their daily tasks or just merely having a walk to bask in this restless city's cozy ambiance. Life in New York City is just like a constant remedy of light seeping into your soul only to miraculously transform you into a walking cluster of optimism.

Begone your plans of watching Netflix and munching on a bag of chips, in their place comes a sudden urge to go out and make all your dreams come true, even if it means stopping by Starbucks to grab a cup of triple venti half-sweet non-fat caramel macchiato first. (Let's not forget to remind the barista to refrain himself from 'deliberately' misspelling your name.)

But nonetheless, one could be lying to himself if he doubted the fact that NYC was the land of dreams.

Now before you go ahead and attack me, I know it's wrong to generalize, and I know that New York is not really all rainbows and roses. But personally, visiting that city has been my life long aspiration for as long as I can remember.

Well.. after wanting to be a model. As a kid I used to dress up in my mom's clothes and heels (Which were too big for my own taste if you ask me.) and strut down the corridors of my house, pretending to be Kate Moss. When I grew up from looking like a squashed jelly bean to actually looking a bit decent, I started to pursue my dream of becoming a known model. Surprisingly enough, some fashion gurus even managed to show some liking in me in the process.

And now, after a few years of freelancing with the help of my manager, Felicity, and low-class modelling gigs in my hometown, London in the UK, I've been granted my first serious opportunity to model in a photo shoot based in New York. If only you could imagine how my reaction was the day I received the mind-shattering news. It's like hitting two birds with one stone. Not only was I advancing and taking a big step forward in my modelling career, but I was also going to visit my absolute favorite city in the world.

And at the moment, here I am, standing outside JFK airport with my Ted Baker suitcase in tow, motioning with my hand to grab the attention of a taxi so it can take me to my destination. I was exhausted from the long flight, and all I wanted to do was hibernate for months.

On top of that, there was a fair amount of turbulence which kind of knocked the hell out of me during the flight. And now I feel like I've been beaten up by a kangaroo. That's what you get for flying midst winter I guess.

"Where to, ma'am?" The taxi driver craned his neck to face me in question as I climbed into car. The man's white beard and fat paunch would have made him look like Santa Claus's long lost twin brother if only he had a red costume and hat on. Maybe a Rudolf up front, but let's not exaggerate.

"Times Square, to the Marriott hotel if you please." I told him, plastering a brief smile on my face. You'll think I must be crazy booking a hotel room for about a week in one of the most prestigious hotels there is. If so, I would be broke by now, but in fact my manager was the one who paid for all the trip's expenses in advance including my hotel room bills, plane ticket, and transportation fees.

After an hour or so in the cab, the Big Apple started to appear in my peripheral view. Somehow, all the fatigue and jet-lag flew right out of my mind and living soul. Instantaneously, I scooted right over to the taxi's window and pressed my nose and palms to the glass. (Probably not too hygienic, but you only live once right?)

My eyes couldn't seem to catch up fast enough with the rolling vistas, and I had to abstain myself from yelling at the driver to slam on the brakes.