Crimson High (Completed)

Chapter Forty

This chapter was to be published yesterday but... I couldn't. So, I'll try to publish both early this morning.

My face reveal is coming up really soon. I mean, why not💞💞

*Picture of Chantelle above*

~°CHANTELLE'S POV°~

The cold slaps me awake as the wind blows through my window. The heavy rain from last night leaves beef from me and I snuggle in the duvet, moaning in pains from the period cramps and wishing I don't have to get ready for school.

The alarm clock blares unsparingly in my ears and I'm in way too much pains to even move an inch. My phone rings and I pick it up. With surprise, I jump out of the bed, making the pains even worse.

I totally forgot I have a model interview at Rose's Runway today and I'm almost late. Quickly, I grab my towel and head for the shower. When I'm done, I get ready for the interview and rush downstairs.

"Good morning, aunt," I say, looking at her as she interests herself in a TV show.

Since my last unfortunate disaster which I involved Noah, things have been on the neutral. Unlike oldest times, we rarely talk. All I'm interested in is finishing my studies and getting the fuck out of her house.

She doesn't reply so I rather leave in a hurry, halting the nearest taxi I find on the road and getting on.

"Maitama. Sharp sharp," I say to the driver and he zooms off in a hurry.

°°°°°°°°°°

"Good morning. I'm here for the interview," I say to the receptionist and she hisses before checking the system.

"Chantelle?" she raises a brow.

"Yes. Chantelle. Is it still going on? Is it my turn yet?" I keep asking as I pant in tiredness, fixing my hair and cleaning my sweat with my face towel.

"Follow me," she instructs and leads me to an inner room where I see some girls just like me sit. Most are well dressed with the latest bone straight wigs and Iphones and inferior is an understatement for how I feel.
I feel them all look at me with somewhat disgust, flashing their wigs and showing off their fixed nails.

"Wait here," the receptionist says to me and I sit in another room more reserved and with only one chair. Sitting down gets me bored and I stand up, looking around.

My stomach rumbles in hunger and I feel like death is knocking. Period cramps, hunger and anxiety is just death on its own. I keep looking out the window till I see a woman settle in front of the building with a sack. I suspect it's something eatable but on another thought, I may miss my chance of the interview.

"I can't kill myself," I mutter and grab my purse, hurriedly opening the door and just then, I bump into a brick. Or, more like a human wall. A tall, towering one.

"Watch. It!" I yell angrily.

"Chantelle .O. Peters?"

I stop in my tracks, turning to the room of the interview and cursing myself inwardly. I turn to the cause of my misery and hit him hard on the chest.

"I hope you're happy about this," I sigh and fix myself a bit before taking a deep breath and opening the doors. The room is quite spacious and contains more of manikins. It's beautiful and has a good number of images of nude female and male models. I stand in front of the lady and pray I don't get rejected, again.

"Good morning, Miss Peters. Take a seat," she says and I silently sit down, adjusting the chair a bit forward.

"So, Miss Peters. Tell me. What's your drive to be a model? Why Rose's Runway, anyways?" she asks and stands up, walking to me and I shudder in fear.