Initiation [The Weeknd]

Prolouge.

21 weeks till Victoria Secrets fashion show:

Summer, 2015
"Sobriety is an enemy, I'm sorry mama. Society ain't excepting me, pray for the young ones."

The modeling industry was as cutthroat as the music industry, if not worst. Castings determined a model's pay check, let alone if they qualified to hit the runway—and boy, were they brutally honest. Some don't make it, but the ones that do, travel, meet celebrities, plug themselves in to other stars by simply being pretty—they also live for the thrill of the countless amounts of drugs they're exposed to.

Paulina was blessed, she wasn't as tall like most Victoria secrets models, but she was pretty—and in this day and age, appearance is everything. At eighteen, Paulina was already gracing  covers of Vogue Paris, Japan, and India.  She's also made appearances for ELLE, and other independent publications.

Through fame, and success, Paulina stayed level-headed, never allowing herself to stray from who she was. So when she received a call from her agent at nine in the morning, telling her she were to prepare for a casting for Victoria Secret's Winter show, Paulina was ecstatic.

"Shut up!" She yelled into the phone, her eyes the size of saucers as she covered her mouth.

"I'm serious Paulina, I'm booking you a flight to New York next Tuesday, be sure to clear your schedule," her PR agent says, "I'll let you know what hotel you're staying in as the days progress, in the meantime, please stay away from carbs, and alcohol."

"Okay! Won't let you down, thank you Andrew." She replies gleefully, as he chuckled before clicking the end button.

Paulina shot out of bed, running down the stairs of her nicely decorated loft as she slid down the railing, still in her panties and oversized shirt. She had to alert her roommate, who was also a model and had traveled recently to Milan for fashion week. Jet-lag was an understatement.