Model Behaviour

Hotels and bellyflops (22)

We arrived at the Hotel A few minutes before the Paparazzi did, and the teachers pushed me in the foyer of the hotel with seconds to spare. I checked in, and lugged my suitcase in the elevator. The music is soothing, as if I needed to be soothed.

Balancing on one foot, with the key card slotted in my door handle, I opened the door. Typical hotels usually have one bed. This room had two. Two? For me?

To what, sleep on one and jump on the other?

Whatever, I think that it is a waste- A brand new queen size bed- I would donate it to someone.

Carefully, I wheeled my suitcase in the front of the bed on the right. I don't know why, but you can't be wrong when you're on the right side of life. See my pun, there? Immediately after I danced a very goofy dance to MIKA, I decided to take a breather and redo my hair, perfume and generally prepare for the press conference coming up in half an hour.

But that's not what was bugging me, oh no. The thing was bugging me was that I would find out who was my co-model, or my bodyguard.

Oops, wrong word.

The co-model would accompany me everywhere, long story short, an over-protective boyfriend that wasn't actually my boyfriend. And how do I know He's not a girl?

My silly mother's tiny slip up- she mentioned that I need to be nice to him. It just proved that the co-model was indeed a male.

That stuff happens in fairytales, that they get smooshed together and fall in love.

If my life were indeed a fairy tale, here's the evidence that I am no princess:

1) I don't particulary like modelling, It has no effect on me.

2) I hate standing still, I fidget and fiddle with my hair.

3) The above makes me 'model material'

4) Being a creature of extreme grace there are a few thing I wish I could do, Like stargazing on the roof of a car, have a food fight, doing something un-ladylike and making a statment in what I believe in.

5) Fix the problem I have created with Tom's cute little sister, Sophie.

6) I am no princess because, I am writing 'why I am no princess' literally on hotel stationary.

7) This list.

Another reason why I dislike modelling is that when I walk down the runway, people stop and stare. I'm not allowed to have Starbucks, cookies or chocolate. However, I frequently break

these rules to show that I am a real person. A real person who eats unhealthily, spends way to much time on the Internet and would like to go to college.

I wish that people would realise that I am a normal human being under the heavy makeup, the stilettos and crazy clothes shoved on me in the name of fashion. But because of the life I'm currently living, no can do. My stomach grumbled in argreement, I push the feeling away. I prefer to go bare faced everyday, and if my skin has a bad day then mascara and concealer will do just fine.

The door shakes and the sound of the card reader echos in the room. The door shakes lightly before opening to see Tom.

Time freezes and the faint sense of dread fills my senses once more. My phone buzzed announcing that it was time to go down to the press conference, now. To be honest, I was not really caring if I was late or not- Whoever let him come into my room obviously does not know the amount of times I inflicted pain on the good looking idiot.

"Surprise?" He squints at me sheepishly.

"Are you the bodyguard my mom has been talking about?"