Not So Simply Complicated [Book 2] ~ON HOLD~

1. Life As A Hollister Model Isn't As Easy As It Seems

Hey everyone! <3

This is the sequel to ASCLS (A Simply Complicated Love Story) I hope you like it!

Tell me what you think, vvvv down there in the comment section :)

****All Rights Reserved (i think I have to write that :P)

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I stared over at the ocean. I didn’t want to pose as a surfer; I wanted to get in the water and actually surf! Whatever. I grew up in New York, but whenever I was dragged to LA I got to surf. That was one of the few good things about the job.

“Hunter! Get over here!”

I sighed and ran back to the set. They said I was supposed to do a two-hour shoot. I had done plenty of those, and they were just two hours of running to the water with a surfboard and making out with girls in bikinis that I’d never met in my life. It was hella annoying, but I did it to keep my mom happy.

“For this one, I want you guys to hang out and talk while your waxing your boards,” the photographer yelled. I sighed and sat down with two other guys who were supposed to be my “homies and bros,” according to the forty year old photography director. We “laughed” and “hung out” while waxing our boards for the shoot. Then, I had to walk along the shoreline carrying my board.

As it turns out, I did have to make out with a bikini model that I had never met. For ten freaking minutes.

I just hated being so fake all the time. None of that was real, the modeling. I hated being known as “oooh, that’s Hunter Truett, the Hollister Model!” I mean, maybe other people would want to be that guy, but I sure as hell didn’t.

They took pictures of my boxers sagging in my shorts. They took pictures of my abs, which were amazing, but I really didn’t feel like seeing my abs on the Hollister bags of hundreds of fourteen-year old girls walking around the mall.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the photographer yelled, “That’s a wrap!” and I started to sprint to the car like I had just heard the best news in the world. Someone stopped me by grabbing my arm. I sighed and turned around to see the bikini model I made out with sanding there.

“Oh, hey…” I said, trying to leave.

“Hunter, right? Some of my friends and I are going for some drinks later. You in?” I shook my head.

“Not interested”

I pulled away from her and kept walking to the car. I bet she wasn’t used to rejection like that. Usually guys would be thrilled to take up her offer, but not me. When you’ve been around those supermodel types as much as I had, you realize that they’re really all just worthless jerks. They use you for one night, then they throw you away when they’re done with you. It makes me sick.

Then, my arm was grabbed again. I clenched my teeth and turned around.

“Look, I already told you—“ I saw that it was only my dad. He gave me a crooked smile.

“Told me what…? Oh my God, am I pregnant?!” he gasped sarcastically.

“Very funny, dad. I just want to get the hell out of here” We started walking toward the car.

“So, how was the shoot?”

“Two hours of being a fake surfer guy. It was ‘great’”

“Sorry, big guy. You know it means a lot to your mom”

“I know, I know. It blows, though. She doesn’t make Kandi do anything like this”

We finally got to the car. Thank God; I just needed to get back to Manhattan.