HARRY BAKER Life of a Model And Spy

Chapter 2 'Model Life'

I was born and raised in London, England, as an only child. When I was two, I had a baby sister that died at three days old because of sudden infant death syndrome. I think that was the main reason my mother was spiteful towards every person in the world she came across, and especially me and my father. My mother is a famous Super model and sometimes actress in England, known as Beatrix Baker, or the one and only BB. My father is a fashion designer that is pretty well known throughout Europe named Lucas Baker.

We lived in a luxurious townhouse where you can hear the city traffic in a busy part of London. I was home schooled by my personal maid at home until I was eighteen years old.

As soon as I was old enough, my mother made me go to photo shoots for modeling. I was a model for baby magazines at ten months old, and that's when my model career started. I didn't have a choice but to go to modeling school from age five to eight years old. By nine years old, I was making forty thousand dollars a year because of my early career and who my parents were in the fashion world.

I didn't know many other kids my age between being home schooled and work since my mother never let me do what I wanted growing up. My father, Lucas, only ever took orders from my mother to where it seemed like everyone including my father was her slave. One day I wouldn't be her slave or money maker anymore, that was for sure.

I didn't know a life where photographers and paparazzi weren't in my face 24/7. I don't think I've ever seen my mother not in high heels, a slim dress, jewelry, and make up on. When I'd go to work with my mother, people would go up to her with work issues or problems as soon as we walked in the modeling agency. Ladies would pull her aside to fix her makeup and hair right away before she went up to model on the runway. People would clap, take pictures, and throw roses.

At age fourteen, I was doing runway modeling like my mother. I'd model for IMG and other agencies, including wearing my father's fashion clothes he created. I was a tall, blonde teenager being 5'11 at age thirteen. I always got my mother's coworkers telling me I grew like a weed since the last time I saw them... It got old.

At seven years old, I was in the park wearing nice clothes my father created as my photographer was taking pictures of me. My mother was on the phone talking with someone over by a tree in the shade. I noticed an ice cream stand and ran over to her after my photo shoot was over.

"Mama! Can I have ice cream?" I asked excitedly.

"No, Harry. You'll gain weight. And I thought I told you to stop with that ridiculous 'Mama' name for me. I'm Mom or BB."

My excitement always went away when she spoke. She saw me more like a kid to take care of because of work, so I called her BB. I wasn't going to call her mom if she didn't see me as her son.

My father was always working during the day and I didn't see him very much, even at home. I think he lived half time in Paris, but I was too busy to ask anyone if so. He wasn't necessarily mean like my mother, but I think he was always worrying about my mother's happiness, so he wasn't a big part of raising me or being there.

I do hate my mother at times, but then at times I just have to remember why she's the way she is. She has a lot of stress and things to deal with, and she's just never happy. BB's mad at the world, but I still have to be thankful for her. She raised and took care of me, even when she wasn't the kindest. BB will call me fat when I'm actually super skinny or tell me to work harder even when I'm trying my best, but she'll also never put up with anyone but her being mean to me.

The fact my mother worked so hard was so I could live a wealthy life, but I didn't realize that until it was too late...

(2016)
I walked down the stairs one morning at sixteen years old with my hands in the pockets of my pants. The maids were putting breakfast on the table and I was wearing white pants and a white collared shirt. It was considered illegal to go outside my bedroom wearing pajamas according to BB, so sometimes I'll do it just out of spite. But not today.