The Worst

4. Mackenna

When Willa doesn't come back to the party within an hour, I get worried. What if she ran down the streets and got lost? What if she was kidnapped? What if she was at home, hanging herself?

I shudder at that last thought. Chloe doesn't seem bothered, she's been slow dancing with some billionare for the last half an hour. I wander around the rooms, in search of something to calm my anxieties. I decide to call it a night, when Penelope Jepson (I call her Penny), my best friend and the daughter of the hosts spots me and pulls me into a tight embrace.

"Mackenna! How've you been, babe?" She asks, genuinely.

"Oh, you know me. Always fine, all the time." I say, knowing it's a lie.

She doesn't look convinced, but one thing I love about Penny, she doesn't push boundaries. "Well, what do you say we get out of this snooze-a-thon and get a real buzz on?"

You'd have to be an idiot to pass up a night with Penny. They were never boring. "Yeah, course. Let me just tell Chloe." I made my way to Chloe and tapped her on the shoulder. "I'm going out with Penny. Can you get another ride home?"

She batts her eyes at the much-too-old guy she was dancing with and says, "I'm sure I can comprimise."

I laugh and make my way back to Penny. "Alright, let's go."

She gives me a once over and says, "Bae, you know I love you, and you look stunning. But you are not going clubbing in that."

I looked down at my navy coctail dress, and realized she was right.

"Come on." She grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from the party, up the stairs and to her room. She made me over, letting my hair out of my bun and into my natural long waves. Then she put me in the smallest push up bra she could find (my breasts are much smaller than hers) with a see-through red shirt over top. I put on her tightest skinny jeans (my waist is smaller than hers, but those jeans still squeezed me so tight I thought I was gonna give birth) and red pumps.

"Damn, with your legs and my curves, we could get into any club in Los Angelos." Penny says, admiring the two of us in the mirror. She looked perfect in nothing but a black body-con dress and gold heels, her thick red hair in a high ponytail. All the work that has to go into making me look good, and she does it all naturally.

"We do look hot, don't we?" I say, taking us in. I even wink at myself.

Penny laughs, twirls her ponytail, and grabs her clutch off the vanity. "Alright, let's go."

As soon as we get in the limo, Jay says, "Where to, ladies?"

"You know that cute little bar over on the corner of Sunset and Willcox? The Playhouse? I wanna go there." Penny insists.

"What about Dragonfly? I heard they have good music." I offer.

"Kenna! Don't you know that's where the sex offenders go? No, we are not going there." Penny informs me bluntly. "Besides, I happen to know that this photographer, Brady Sinclair, is gonna be there shooting for his new album, City Life. Don't you want to be in a professional photoshoot?!"

"Playhouse it is." Jay says. "What an oportunity for you girls. Next thing I know, you'll be famous models and the paps will be swarming my limo!"

Penny and I laugh. "Jay, I think you might be getting carried away." I say teasingly.

Penny suddenly gets serious. "Hey, you never know. This really could be the chance of a lifetime."

Thinking about it, modeling doesn't seem like such a bad career. As long as it's on my terms. I refuse to get swept away into the modeling world, starving myself and forgetting the value in life.