Modeling Crisis (book 1)

Modeling Crisis : Chapter 1

"Nikki!"

"Nikki, over here! This way!"

"Is it true about you dating Justin?"

"Nikki! Nikki! Are you really doing a photo shoot for 17?"

"Are you giving up your wings Nikki? Is it true you're no longer a Victoria's Secret model because of a scandal you caused?"

"Nikki over here!"

Flash bulbs flashed insanely and numerous paparazzi were talking at the same time. I kept my head down and shades on as I entered my penthouse building. Security stopped the paparazzi on the way in.

My name is Nicolette Carson or Nikki for short. I'm a Victoria's Secret supermodel. This year and this past year; I've worn the million dollar bra set. Modeling has always been my passion for years and now I've been able to live my dream to the fullest. I'm the most wanted angel this coming year. Others say I'll beat out Miranda Kerr and Gisele and the other angels in competition. I stand at about 5'11 – 6'0, somewhere in those sorts, I don't really bother with specifics. Just to drop some of those questions being yelled at me, I'm not giving up my wings anytime soon and I'm single.

As I walked through the glass door I was greeted my manager, Lauren Deck, trying to talk above the paparazzi's shouting and buzz of camera flashing. The glass door closed and almost instantly the chatter and noise was dulled. The flashing on the other hand didn't stop me from being blinded. I took off my sunglasses which didn't help whatsoever, everyone tells you to wear them, it'll help with the flashing they said, but no, not at all, I still felt blind as a bat. I felt Lauren grab my arm and say,

"They already know about the 17 shoot? How, Nikki you need to start keeping things on the down low."

She chastises me, clicking her tongue.

"Lauren when have I ever spilled anything?" I look her through squinted eyes, pausing for dramatic effect, " Exactly never. So chill alright and lead the way because I cannot see!"

I add jockingly and smile largely.

Lauren complied and half-dragged me to the elevator. Walking blind and being led by now-angry manager, were not two good combos to mix. I stumbled and almost fell twice; darn these cursed but so amazingly cute heels.

"Which floor Nick?"

"Floor 7, room 713."

I replied immediately.

I rubbed my eyes some more and everything was starting to become clearer now, well at least the blindness is never permanent. I look at Lauren skeptically; I'm surprised she hasn't told me why she's here. Lauren will always make contact and then arrive not usually the other way around. I try to rack my brain to see why she would be but came up with nothing. I leaned against the gold, Moroccan- inspired elevator wall and wait for it to take us to my place.

The elevator couldn't have been any faster. Please note the sarcasm. I went ahead of Lauren this time and walked straight up to my condo pulling out a small gold key from my Vera Bradley shoulder purse. I was actually extremely casual in white shorts and light-washed pink, shoulder-hang shirt and nude heels. I felt the lock click from the key and I opened the door, Lauren following en suite. Time to find out the boss-lady wants.

I was met immediately by my brown, sand-paper colored yorkie. Rosalie came bounding to the door and barked happily. I smiled and spoke in that voice that people used on their babies,

"Who's a good girl? Who's my baby? Are you hungry, oh you're hungry huh? Let's get you some food."

I heard Lauren snicker behind me; she walked to the black leather couch and made herself comfortable, obviously waiting for me to finish up with my dog. She probably thought I was insane or becoming sex-deprived.  God, I needed a boyfriend, the last boyfriend I ever had was Jake and he turned out to be an attention hog who didn't know how to keep a girl. He was such a man-whore in a sense. I was just making my way into Hollywood as someone news worthy and he was already a big shot actor. In the end, I found out he was chetaing on me with some girl and we broke up.

I walked to my kitchen; I had grey marble put on top of the small brown island and top of the cabinets. I think it looks amazing. I open the cabinet specifically for Rosalie and pull out dog food, poor some in her bowl and walk over to Lauren on the couch.

"All right babe, let's get this over with."

I say jumping onto the couch as soon as I get comfortable I take off my shoes and throw them in the direction of my room, I would pick them up on the way to my room later tonight. Lauren looks up and I smile sheepishly and say,

"I'm lazy?  Don't judge me."

I said that with it sounding more like a question than an explanation. Lauren shrugs and says,

"Anyways, I have news to tell you. Bad or good first?"

I think about this for a few seconds before saying,

"Good news. Give it here."

I smile largely in anticipation. She always brought me the best news. Lauren returns the smile just as large and says,

"You're top angel again! You get to wear the million dollar bra. Congrats!"

"Awesome!"

I shout and attack her with a hug. She chuckles and I move off of her and sit down next to her.

I can't say I was entirely surprised but I'm glad I won. I sort of expected it this year, though the million dollar bra angel isn't a consecutive winner I'm breaking the charts so far for being a third year MDB( million dollar bra) angel. I frown quickly though because she said that there was bad news involved which just surfaced my brain,

"All right out with it, what's the bad news?"

"For 17 cover shoot, you have to model with HIM."

My jaw drops, I couldn't believe it. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever but so far I had been doing a good job. Guess my luck just ran out. My mood darkens because Lauren never gives me bad news without there  being a second part to it. I ask, with boredem coloring my voice,

"What's the other part, because there is always a part 2 to bad news?"

"For publicity, you have to fake-date. To ensure your spot for the top angel."

Ok kill me now. FML, I truly didn't like this. Heck I hated that man, stupid, arrogant, butt-faced bastard.

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*Author's Note*

First initial thoughts? Who do you think "He" is? Do you feel sorry for Nikki or happy for her because she's going to be yet again a million dollar bra wearer. This story is rated PG-13. I do not take credit for anything related to Victoria's Secret, this story is only fictional and none of this is true. I apologize if I get something about Victoria's Secret models wrong. Song, Top Model by Marvin Fequiere ft. Jason DeRulo