𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝔂𝓸𝓻𝓴

september 6th, 2019 - fashion week

dear diary,
today was my first fashion week. i have been signed to my mother agency since january, runway modeling since may. in my opinion, i've been quite booked and busy for a girl who's just beginning her career. i don't even know that much about fashion! i was scouted outside of the met during last summer's vacation, in the middle of strinking some half-assed poses with dad for mom's facebook. to be honest, i was taken aback and a little paranoid that some random blonde woman was asking me all these questions about my height and if i've ever modeled before. i had no idea if she was even legit. or why she was asking me, of all people, if i wanted to model. since as far back as i could remember, i'd been tormented in school for being too dark, too tall, too thin, too — well, me! but when my mother caught wind of the woman's offer, she was ecstatic. she's always wanted me to be good at something. when i was four, we tried piano. seven, we tried violin, thirteen, we tried volleyball, until she just kind of gave up on me. it hurt, i'll admit. kassidy and travis have always been mommy's little progidies and i've kind of just been... here. that summer was finally her chance to make me into the success she's always dreamed of. and, hey! a reason to switch to online school? don't mind if i do! so that brings us back to now. the industry had been on the lookout for that token dark skin model. the 'new' naomi campbell. no disrespect to the queen. and i guess i just perfectly fit that role. booking after booking and before i knew it, i was looking for apartments in new york. i still haven't found my feet here, but i think i'm catching the hang of it. i decided it was worth the move after seeing my first paycheck. i've never held that much money in my life. mom and dad give me enough for nyc life & a little to spoil myself, and the rest goes to savings. its better off that way. if i were to be responsible, i would have the miu miu ss19 collection in the closet, but no food in the fridge.

tonight, i strutted the walkway for alexander wang. i haven't met him in person yet, but can i just say it's an honor to even be associated with him name! heel-toe-heel-toe was the only thing in my mind during the whole maybe thirty seconds i was up there. it was all adrenaline. in all honesty, the whole thing was a blur and i could've been dreaming. after the show, i called home crying tears of joy. my parents had the same emotions on the other end and i couldn't help but think how much i miss them. i'm extremely lonely in this vast city and long for someone, anyone to just... relate to. but it'll all be worth it in the end. we shared our laughter and tears, then i hailed a cab to some popular restaurant. i had some vegan-healthy-pizza-whatever that i'd been recommended by another model & went on my way back to my cramped but cozy apartment on 95th street. i stepped into the yellow cab & just gazed out the window. oh, what a life i'm building myself. runways & $64 dinners. huh.

my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the other cab door opening. i whipped my head to the right and saw a tall, older man climbing in. he looked a bit stressed, maybe just tired. i crossed my legs out of habit and gave a small smile. he reciprocated the gesture and got settled in with a loud sigh. i'm not gonna lie, i was kind of nervous. not because he was attractive, he was, but because guys make me nervous (especially in cabs at 11pm). you'd think i'd have adjusted by now with all those shirtless beauties prancing around with their six packs backstage, but no. don't think i ever will. the man smelled faintly of saline and latex. like latex gloves. he had tan, rough skin, dark brown hair, and glasses.

"hi", he spoke firmly with another smile. i guess i was staring. embarrassed, i turned away without a word. he continued on.

"you're not from here?"

in an almost-whisper, i responded "no. why?"

"you just don't look like a new york kind of girl." i now looked into his eyes for a brief moment. hazel-green.

"what does that mean?" i was still quiet. half day dream, half social mode.

"you just don't have that vibe to you. first of all, you're quieter than silence itself."

i jusr shrugged in response. i don't know how to carry conversations.

"so where are you from?"

"nevada." i now faced him, shyly. i guess i had no choice but to talk. some men get pissed off when you don't respond. i'm trying my best not to get axe murdered while chasing my dreams. although, i don't 'get that vibe' from him. i kinda trust him. i noticed the resident's id clipped to his shirt pocket. since when have doctors been known to kill? this guy looked anywhere from twenty-two to twenty-five, nowhere near my age. he had a band on his ring finger. married. huh.

he nodded. "you look young. what're you doing alone in new york?"

"i model", i quickly responded.

"for?" he seems friendly. maybe he's not an axe murderer.

"well, um, whoever casts me."

"who casted you tonight?"

"alexander wang."

"impressive. so i can look it up and you'll be on the runway?"
my smile dropped. well that makes me uneasy. axe murderer score going up.

"yeah, i guess."

"not in a creepy way, of course", he chuckled, noticing my face. uh yeah, still uncomfortable.

i just nodded back. his phone went off, saving me from this weird, yet intriguing, interaction. well, i thought. 'isabella' appeared on the screen and he raised his brows and powered his phone off. maybe his wife? side chick?

we pulled up to the sawyer residence, his stop. woah. the cheapest penthouse in that building was more than most people would ever see in their entire lifetimes. how could a twenty -something year old medical student afford that? maybe his wife was rich? or a sugar mommy? or maybe it was daddy's money? i decided to stop being nosey and tuned back into reality.

"here's enough for the girl too", he handed the driver $60.00 cash and left without another word to me.
i guess that man is made of more money than he looks like. he then walked into the big, beautiful building and i sat wondering if i'd ever see him again. he was so mysterious in an interesting way. i now spread out a little more in the cramped back seat. i noticed a card on the floor. his medical id.

st. michael's medical center
dakota antar, m.d.
resident intern

dakota antar. maybe i'll be the one doing some web searching tonight.

oh, new york, you're so unpredictable.