Cover Girl

ᥱіgһ𝗍 - 𝖿ᥲᥡᥱ

I haven't had a real conversation with Matteo in months.  I loved it.  I need to talk to him more,  be with him more.

I walked up to my bedroom and sat on my bed.  My shoot was for a small company, just a couple of hours.  I haven't had a modeling shoot for a couple of weeks, my agent hasn't found anything.  I wasn't sure how much I like her, but I needed her.

I closed my eyes and let sleep consume me.

*********

The next morning I awoke with the sun rising.  Tomorrow was my next shoot and I was dreading it more by the second.

I sat up and looked around my mess of a room.  My bedroom was never what people would imagine.  Honestly, it was quite boring.  Plain white walls, a small dresser, and my bed.  My closet was probably more interesting than the room itself.  The only thing decorating the room right now was the huge piles of clothes on the floor.

I walked downstairs to an empty house, per usual.  I shuffled through the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, quickly drinking it from the glass.

I figured I'd just work out until my mother woke up and decided to join me.  I needed to work on my core today for the shoot tomorrow.

I walked down the stairs and started with plank hip dips and went from there.

**********

After about 45 minutes I heard some rustling upstairs.  I checked the clock and realized it was most likely Matteo getting ready for school, which reminded me that I had yet to get ready.

I ran up the stairs and noticed Matteo humming a tune to himself while putting two slices of bread in the toaster.  I smiled and ran up to my room, skimming my closet.  I picked out a pair of ripped jeans, a white tank top, with my Taylor Swift cardigan over it.

I set the clothes on the counter in my bathroom before turning on the warm water in the shower.  I quickly washed all the sweat off me and stepped out.  My hair was slightly wet after towel drying it but I didn't have the energy to blow dry it, so I decided to let it air dry. 

I threw on my clothes and grabbed my bag before running down the stairs to see Matteo washing his dirty plate.

"Do you need a ride today?" He asked as he noticed my presence.

"No, thank you.  I have to pick up Izzie and Kylie."

He nodded and began to dry the dish.  I sat on the couch and grabbed my phone before opening Instagram.

Scrolling through all of these pretty people made me wonder why I was in the business in the first place.  I was never as pretty as the people I saw, but somehow I was so fortunate with how my life turned out, however it was also terrible.  You can never tell when somebody likes you for being you, or if they want to use you, hurt you, break you.  Being used messes with your trust so badly, and before you know it, you're alone and don't have the heart to let anyone else in.  Being broken from the inside is the worst type of hurt, and it's really hard.  It drains you until you have nothing left to give.  That's why I tell people not to get into the public eye, I try to save them before it's too late.

The hate is also terrible.  People always say "Don't let it get to you", but I don't get how you can just ignore people telling them to harm themselves every day.  The hate will always be there, I've never seen a creator without hate.  It's inevitable.  But the worst part is that you can't tune it out.  Some tiny spot in the back of your brain will always have those little voices telling you that you're not good enough, that you don't deserve where you are, that you're fat, ugly, too tall, too short, too pale, everything they say will be there, and you just have to deal with it.