What A Secret Looks Like | ✓

07: tessa

I wait until after the shoot to approach Aaron, even though I know that it probably won't work again. They have me by the throat with that stupid contract, and we all know it.

The robe that's been provided for me is tied tightly around me, and the extensions have been taken out. The familiar feeling of the shorter hair tickling the back of my neck is back.

"Aaron?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to piss him off before I'm asking him for this again. This is all I want. I want to be done with this world because I'm not sure I can lose another friend to the toxicity of modeling. I mean if anything ever happened to Peyton I'm not sure what I'd do.

He swivels around, looking up briefly from his phone before realizing that it's just me. Aaron's a nice enough person, but definitely not first on my list of people to talk to if I have the option. "What is it Tessa?"

"I want to be released from my contract. I've been on time to every shoot the last six months since I cut my hair, and if you don't do this then I'll go to the press and tell them what it's really like working for Aristocracy." It's a heavy enough threat that I know he'll have to take it into consideration. Hopefully it's enough to get him to say the magic words-

"No." It's a blunt and simple answer as he looks up at me. "You have eleven months left in your contract. Do I need to remind you of what we could still do about the little incident with your hair?"

"Why not? You have hundreds of people that could take my spot, so let them. Just please release me from my contract, I'll even sign a non-compete." I persist, refusing to just take his no as an answer.

He looks at me incredulously, "I don't understand why you're so eager to leave? You're getting paid money to stand there as a camera takes photos of you. You're gifted designer clothes, but you don't keep it. Hell, they don't even make you smile when you pose."

I don't take any of the clothes because I don't have a home to keep it at. I've been living in hotels for years, carrying around only a carry-on. The times I've walked the red carpet, the dresses have been gifts that were special made, but I donate them afterwards to charities focused on the arts. "Because I hate the person people think I am. I want to do something more than pose for pictures so I don't understand why you just won't fucking let me out of my contract."

Aaron laughs shaking his head at me, "You don't get it. Honey, you were the most requested model last year if your paychecks didn't tell you that already. You're on track to make Aristocracy even more money this year than you did last year because of the percentage they take out of your paycheck before you get it. They're not giving you up until they have to, which is when your contract expires. People think you're a pretty face, take advantage of it."

I try to ignore the way my stomach drops and force a smile on my face, "Got it." Thanks for nothing, I groan internally. I should be flattered by those statistics, but I hate them because they're the reason I'm not being allowed my out. Everything is about the money, and I don't exactly need the money.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you; my hands are tied in this matter." Aaron offers, and I get it. This is his job too, but I can't get his words 'People think you're a pretty face, take advantage of it,' out of my head because that's exactly what I don't want to be. I've used my looks to skate by in situations and I've always felt this gnawing feeling afterwards. I just want to be a normal person. I want to be known for something other than a pretty face.

*********

"That's horse shit," Sephine exclaims, and I let out a small laugh at her terminology.

"There's nothing I can do. I already was on thin ice with them for cutting my hair, and I'm lucky I didn't get sued for breaching my contract. I don't know what else I can do to get them to release me besides wait out my contract." I'm sitting at the hotel bar, sipping on my third gin and tonic of the night, feeling my cares slip away. I didn't want to think about the contract and loathe in my self pity anymore than I already have been, but it came up in the conversation anyway.