Runway Academics ❀ {ohshc}

the art of catching colds

Lengthy figure leaning against the counter, Josie didn't waste any time in pouring herself a nice, tall glass of water---really the only thing she was ever allowed to indulge in. With a flick of her wrist, she added a couple ice cubes to the drink, and pressed the cup to her lips.

"Refreshing," Josie murmured more to herself than anyone else, crisp voice echoing some in the literally empty kitchen.

There was next to nothing in the room, save for a couple bartender-style ledges and stools, along with the built-in fridge and fancy sink the penthouse came with in the first place. Because apparently, the scarcely lived-in look was ultra mod. And her mum and father were the type of filthy richwads who preferred ultra mod over castle-schmancy.

Josie glanced to the side. Shiny wood flooring and nearly-all-glass walls were on display, giving a sweeping view of the city outside. Which, despite it being night, looked just about as lively as ever.

Tokyō.

That was the place, her home for the past two years. Much like her old one in NYC---the self-proclaimed fashion capital of America. She was already used to the constant noise: the buzz of pedestrians and the honking of cars as they whizzed by. Josie even understood the language, too. She was completely fluent in it, actually.

If it weren't for her foreigner looks, Josie probably would've fit in easily, like a glove.

Born in the Land of the Rising Sun, Japanese was naturally the first language she learned, taught by her half-Japanese father. Her mother didn't know a whiff of it, being the typical blue-eyed, all-American bombshell she was.

What she did know was English, and henceforth passed her English-speaking abilities onto her daughter.

Big deal, though. A lot of people knew two languages---and in the clique of famously-rich people that Josie's family just so happened to be involved in, that was nothing compared to what most forced their kids to learn. French, Spanish, German, Mandarin Chinese, Greek . . . and the list goes on.

Josie even went to a school where those very kids attend. Ouran Academy, with more noses spent stuck up in the air than in textbooks.

She wasn't really any better though, in the whole textbook sense. Constantly getting pulled out of class for photo shoots and the like, Josie barely spent any time at the Academy in the past year---if any at all.

She'll be in her last year of middle school now---work will be piling up---but with her schedule so crammed . . . she was wondering how she was going to balance this whole education thing at the peak of her career.

Yes, she was fourteen. Yes, that was insanely young, even by teen model standards. But when pushed beyond the limit, past the point of blood, sweat, and tears---what one could be capable of is actually pretty amazing.

Downing the remaining of her drink in one swift gulp, Josie set down the glass and turned on her heel, bathrobe swishing with each movement and bare feet tapping the floor.

Her face was now scrubbed clean of makeup, previously slicked-back hair washed and drippy. She really should have put a towel over it; a highly-requested model like herself couldn't afford getting sick after all.

'I say I deserve a case of the sniffles,' Josie thought somewhat dryly to herself. 'A break would actually be nice every once and a while.'

∮∮

" . . . Oh, Josie, you're still up."

A voice---feminine and light that in some way reminded Josie of a strawberry wafer---spoke up nearby, Christina Tashodi peering above her Mac to eye her daughter wandering the hallway. The woman was splayed upon a cushy crème tuffet, avidly re-designing her website; the time on the screen displayed as 11:45 PM.

"Took a shower too, I see," her mother gave a knowing click of her tongue.

Josie shrugged.

"So . . . " the older blonde began conversationally, as if it didn't bother her the slightest that her daughter was way past bedtime; glossy lips soon forming a smile, "How was the show? Was it a total breeze like I told you?"

"It was ok."

She closed the laptop and her smile widened, pearly whites on display, "Show me your walk."

Without hesitation, Josie strutted towards her mother---naturally performing her usual post-runway routine---, long legs strong and her aura thick with confidence.

It was like she changed into a completely different person in seconds.

But, then again, it was only expected of her. Josie was an expert when it came to masks after all; she could put them on quickly and convincingly.

"Ah, nicely done!" her mother praised, giving Josie a swift kiss to the forehead once she reached her. "Now off to bed with you; my little Jo-Jo can't be losing any more beauty sleep."

A light blush tinted Josie's cheeks at hearing the (childish) pet name, and she headed off to her room, "I'm going to get it anyways, 'specially with me running late all the time."

True, she usually arrived at Ouran roughly half-way throughout the day, during third period or even lunch at latest, having slept away what hours of rest she had lost. And even then, there'd still be occasions in which she'd get picked up before the final bell even has a chance to ring.

Pushing open the door with a lightly-freckled hand (there wasn't an inch of Josie's skin that wasn't covered by them), she glided into her bed and not-so-gracefully collapsed onto it, face-first in cushions.

∮∮

and wOOP, dere it is~ ! x3

chapter numero deux, up and published! feedback would be much appreciated. ;~)