When you're broken, lost and got nothing left to lose... you become bulletproof.
Trying to fix your life back together after having it shaken upside down isn't easy. Getting used to normal when you feel like an outcast in your own skin, isn't easy...
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Song: 7 rings- Ariana Grande
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F E B R U A R Y
Berly.T
I scroll through my account for new comments and likes, my brain going over what my next post should be. A new brand had contacted me and offered to send me a few pieces for me to try and post and I couldn't help a smile.
I just started it as a way to do what I really like. Not stupid laws, not freaking fancy exams, just cloths. And makeup. Styling, designing, even modeling. I just had this passion for fabrics and patterns as cliche as that sounded. So I started this little Instagram account a month after being in the retire, posting new pics at least four times a week, never repeating an outfit. I never thought it'd actually be successful, but now I'm nearing the 1M followers and brands reached me every now and then to collaborate.
Also, I had this huge deal with a makeup brand and they pay me generously each month if I keep showing off their products. In the background, on me... it didn't even need to be an open add, just enough for the followers to link their brand to me.
And why Berly? Well, Kimberly sounded too lame and Kimmy was clearly a no-no. Nate suggested it when I told him about this idea I had, joking; but I actually like it. It had its whatever... Yet don't take it as in I was trying to hide my identity, I just wanted to separate both me's, but anyone who knew me knew I had Berly profile.
And then there was webcaming. With a way more discreet name, a mask and a lot more of money on the table.
People always look anyway. Wherever I go, whatever I where so at least I would make a profit out of it. And also, I would allow some glimpse of what I could be if I'd followed my modelling career instead of law school.
Well, 'modelling career'... When I was young I was the model for girl clothes in the mall at our hometown and the most I got was an advertisement on sandals. A foot commercial. But well, wasn't I worth to look at? That would probably be more interesting that the awful long classes drowning me in information and protocols I couldn't pretend to care about.
So Berly was my scapegoat.
A shadow casted over me blocking the sun and I looked up from my sitting position in the grass and found Eli grinning and slidding off her jacket before dropping beside me with a sigh. "Uh, kill me."
My brows perked, half amused. "What for?"
"I was supposed to finish my project last night and still haven write a word. So please, kill me."
"Who would take my pictures then?"
She gasped, dramatically bringing one hand over her heart. "Is that all I am to you? The photographer?"
