Ash is a fashion model, not by choice but the desire of his projecting mother. People think he's too cocky for his own good, judging him based on what he posts online. But Ash hates the brush he's been painted with, along with the stereotypes of the...
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When the weather cleared up on Friday, we both parted ways. Making sure that we wouldn't get killed by flying objects on the way home. It was still raining and the sky didn't look promising, so I doubt Bodi made it to his beach party.
I headed home, trying my hardest to stay clear of my mother. No doubt she's booked me onto a thousand different castings already. We've probably got one booked tomorrow at 4AM without my understanding.
All I wanted to do was chill out, go to the gym and possibly see Britt if she's around.
After I left school when everyone else continued on with their A-Levels and then went to university, I lost a lot of friends. Including the ones who didn't even bother to check up on me the night that I got arrested when everyone else got away.
I wasn't expecting them to take the fall for me but the fact they didn't even bother dropping me a message speaks volumes. People I definitely don't want in my life.
Others I grew apart with when I stopped my education, they continued to make stronger connections with people they saw everyday. Me on the other hand, all I had was the people at castings to bond with. Some didn't go well at all.
But Britt, she's the silver lining in all of this. I'd rather have one really good friend than loads of shitty friends who don't care about me. Britt's friends are cool too but they're in a different league than me. She's posh, there is no doubting that but her friends are another level of the higher class.
Parties are fun but I don't really fancy going to a brunch and racking up a five hundred pound bill.
I've got money saved but that's to move out. To get away from this town, from my parents, from the people who look at me as no more than shit on their shoes.
I couldn't wait for that moment.
When my mother doesn't bombard me with new casting opportunities this weekend, I'm relieved. I catch up on Netflix and scroll through my phone, diving deep into Twitter.
My mind wanders to last night every so often, I picture Bodi and us sharing that bottle of rum between us. My head should be hurting considering we finished the bottle but I must have raided the fridge when I got home.
Over the last couple weeks, that is the first time we've had a civil conversation without rudeness or bluntness.
Bodi clearly has a troubled father. One that wants to control him and yet I can relate.
I remember the look in his eye, how similar we feel when it comes to our parents. Like we could open up and not have the fear of being judged. I've tried to tell Britt about my situation but she doesn't understand because she loves modelling and the industry. Sometimes she praises my mother for being so on the ball.
