How to be a Model

Chapter Four

"Get up Blaire!" I yelled, pounding on her door for the fiftieth time. "We have the shoot to get to in less than two hours."

I started to panic. I was still in my pyjamas, without a lick of makeup on. The only thing I had managed to get done that morning was eating a bowl of oatmeal.

"That's it," I muttered. Yanking the door open, I marched into her room. All the new clothes I had bought for her week before were strewn across her room. She lay sprawled in bed, a pillow over her head. Reaching out, I yanked the pillow away from her.

"Get up, Blaire, now!" I said. She opened her eyes with a groan.

"What do you want?" she demanded, glaring at me.

"We have to get to the shoot soon," I said as calmly as I could manage. "Which means you need to have a shower, get something decent on, eat a healthy breakfast, and do your hair and makeup as soon as possible!"

I didn't leave her room until she was in the shower. Then I raced back to my own room and hurried through my own morning routine. This girl was going to be the death of me! I had to apply more foundation than usual to cover the bags under my eyes; I haven't had a good night's sleep since Blaire came to live with me. Once I was satisfactorily dressed I made my way into the kitchen. Blaire was sitting on a stool at the kitchen bench, actually looking decent. She'd picked a pair of jeans that fit like a second skin and a cami that extenuated her tiny waist. Her hair was pulled back into a braided bun and her face looked clean, her makeup fairly natural.

"Good enough for you, your highness?" she mocked me. I gave her a cool look.

"You look great."

I expected us to lapse into our usual silence, but Blaire surprised me.

"So, how hard is this modelling thing, anyway?" she asked me. My surprise must have shown on my face, because she added, "It can't be that bad, can it?"

I pursed my lips, wondering how to answer that question.

"I think it's something you have to make up your own mind on."

She nodded, satisfied with this answer, and we sat in silence until she finished her breakfast and then we got into the limo. Once at the shoot, we were hurried in by Coco, and then two stylists grabbed us and pulled us into the curtained changing area. We were both stripped of our clothes and dressed in two beautiful, floor length gowns, and then our hair and makeup were done. My dress was dazzling white, while Blaire's was a gorgeous, bright shade of red. Blaire looked even better than after her makeover once they were finished. She surveyed herself in a mirror with some disgust.

"I am going to become just like you," she said. She said it like it was an insult, but I hid a smile, Walking out of the curtained area, I went straight into someone's arms.

"Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry," I said, blushing to the roots of my hair. When I glanced up and saw who I had run into, my blush deepened even more. It was Jesse Howard, the popular pop star who I had been crushing on for at least six months. He was gorgeous, with dark brown hair and blue, blue eyes, and a dreamy smile that made me feel weak at the knees. He was giving me that smile now, with the same devastating effect.

"H-hi Jesse," I breathed. The unfortunate thing about my crushing on him was that he had no idea, and so I was waiting for him to fall in love with me. Which didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon, particularly if I kept crashing into him like that. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Alana," he smile deepened (how on earth could a person's eyes be so blue?). "You look fantastic in that dress."

"Thanks," I bit my lip and avoided looking into his eyes by looking down at my dress. I could feel the flush creeping up my neck, threatening to spill across my cheeks.

"How's the album coming along?" I asked quickly to hide my embarrassment. I was rewarded with another breathtaking smile.

"It's going really well," he told me. "I have the lyrics for the last two songs sorted; now I'm just working on the music. I'm actually here because I just did an interview for the magazine."

"Great," I replied, my usual intellectual self around him.

"How's the modelling life going?" he asked. "Last time I saw you, you said you were feeling a little snowed under?"

Wait a second, he remembered something I had said to him before? Of course, I remembered every word he had ever said to me, but I never expected... Could he possibly...?

"It's still pretty full on, but I am keeping up by getting regular sleep, I think."

He smiled at me, his blue eyes locking with my blue-green ones.

"That's good. It would be awful if you got burnt out," he said, his voice caring. "And who might this be?"

Blaire had come up behind me without my even realising it. I turned to see her watching me with a smirk on her face.

"Uh, er, this is my sister, Blaire," I stuttered. "Blaire, this is Jesse–"

"Howard," she finished for me, her eyes lit with a mixture of irritation and could it be... amusement. "Yes, I know, I am privy to pop culture."

I flushed at this comment, and refrained from shooting Blaire an angry glare. It was bad enough that every time Jesse looked at me I blushed; I didn't need her embarrassing me on top of that.

He extended his hand to her and they shook hands. I felt a twinge of envy at the approving way Jesse looked at her.

"Well, I hate to run out on you ladies but I actually have a gig to get to," he said, smiling one of his incredible smiles again. "Nice to meet you Blaire, see you later Alana."

And then he was gone, and I was left blushing ashamedly. Blaire smirked at me.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said, and let out a loud laugh. "You, the world's top supermodel, cannot even talk to a guy!"

She said it like she couldn't believe it. I flushed, further embarrassed.

"Well, uh... yeah," I admitted lamely. What else could I say? Blaire began to laugh loudly.

"This is hilarious," she exclaimed.

"Why?" I snapped, starting to feel like my life was one big joke to her.

"You are the world's top model," she said slowly, as if I couldn't understand English. "You, by popular opinion, are the most attractive woman in the world. And yet you can't talk to men!"

"Not all men," I corrected her. "Only that one."

Blaire's eyes widened with comprehension.

"Ah, I see," she said quietly. "Jesse is special to you."

She looked at me for a long moment.

"What?" I demanded.

"I don't get it," she said. "You of all people should have the confidence."

I laughed dryly.

"Yeah, well, not in that area," I replied. "Hence, being single."

Blaire's perfect eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, are you telling me you've never had a boyfriend?" she asked. "Like, ever?"

"Well, being a model is a busy lifestyle," I defended myself. "And none of the guys ever really appealed before Jesse. Oh sure, there were a few guys I thought I might become interested in, but when I spent more than five minutes with them, I realised how shallow and superficial they were."

Blaire shook her head with amusement.

"Tough gig, this model thing is," she said before she stalked off to where the director was waiting to start the shoot.