My ah-mazing life

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"I'm Reagan Ryan. I'm practically royalty. A household name like the Kardashians, as well known as any celebrity and that model who lives on those posters on your boyfriend's walls. I know, I know, I sound so cocky. Well that's because with a body like this, I can afford to be." I say to the camera smiling my signature smile.

The cameraman stares at me, "Um, keep going I suppose?"

"You must be wondering, how do you get a body as good as mine? Well, darling, it's simple. I've never worked out a day in my life, sweat grosses me out. I don't eat healthily, I've never dieted, so I guess you could say it's genetics. So, sorry babe, you're never going to look like me." 

The cameraman shifted uncomfortably, his large stomach being seen through his shirt. I frown, "Babes, I wish I could flip this camera around and show you the unfortunate man filming this. America you are out of shape, disgusting pigs waiting around for your next big mac. Omg! I did not mean to insult mcdonalds, I love your food so much! I would never! I just mean the obese people who eat it, like jesus go for a walk or something!"

He was mad now, "Um, you do realize you said you never worked out before."

"Oh ya, I would never, but you should! Like you really should."

He frowns, "What's a day in your life like?"

"I wake up, eat breakfast, go watch TV on my couch, probably go to a shoot, eat a snack, take a nap, eat lunch, go to another shoot, take another nap, eat another snack, usually another shoot, meet up with my friends, eat dinner, go clubbing, get blacked, eat some food, go to bed, wake up and do it all again! I spend most of my time doing shoots and going clubbing and to parties though!"

"Would you say you drink a lot?"

I flash my signature smile, "What would constitute a lot in your book?"

He looks uncomfortable, again, God get a new face already, "Um every day?"

I laugh, "I wouldn't call that a lot but sure going off of your definition, from someone who is, clearly very popular and loved by the ladies, sure, I drink a lot." 

"You can't talk to me like that." He said defensively. 

"Aw poor bwaby needs his bwottle. Grow a pair dude, I'm Reagan Ryan. I am better than you fat scum will ever be." 

I turn on my heel and head out. I go into the wardrobe and put on a skimpy outfit that shows off my stick skinny hourglass body. I waltz out and smile for the paparazzi taking my photos. They eat me up like cake, as they should. I walk into Doheny, no waiting in line for a model like me, and meet up with my girls and take a shot. Free bottle service for the whole night, my life is perfect. The rest of the night is a blur as I order pizza and pass out in my bed.

I wake up later being shaken awake by my manager, Kim. Kim is very large, her stomach is seen through all of her shirts but I mean, to be fair, compared to me everyone is large. Anyways, she is frowning, "What. Was. That. Interview. Yesterday. Reagan?"

I laugh, "Oh yeah I forgot about that! Was it killer?"

She screams, "NO! YOU GOT DROPPED FROM EVERY SINGLE LABEL AND EVERYTHING! YOU'VE BEEN CANCELLED BY THE INTERNET!"

I frown, "Impossible", and take out my phone and see tons of memes of me and mean tweets, my own friends tearing me down.

I shrug, "So should I just chill out for a week then go book another shoot?"

Kim shakes her head agressively, "NO!! You are on HOUSE ARREST for the next YEAR. WE will tell the media that you went on a retreat to try and remedy your attitude. You'll have an amazing comeback don't worry. Just workout and relax this next year. Keep in shape and we're taking away your connection to the outside world, we don't trust you."

I burst out into tears and slammed my fists on the ground, "I don't wanna! I don't wanna!"

I hear Kim's assistant murmur, "Jesus she's a toddler."

I keep throwing my fit until they all leave. A body guard is stationed around my house at all times but other than him I won't have any company for the next year. I cannot believe this. I am Reagan Ryan. I deserve better than this. I run into the kitchen and grab a carton of ice cream and veg out in front of the couch and over the course of the day quickly eat my way through everything in the entire kitchen, no stupid photoshoots to slow me and my eating habits down. I stuggle to get to my feet with my food baby and walk up to Derek, the security guard. I burp, "Hi ya um I have no food."

He lets me use the phone to order postmates and an hour later he walks in twenty times with all the food I ordered. "Well, a skinny girl like you this should last you the whole year."

I laugh, "This is my dinner."

He shrugs and walks off while I greedily dive in. We keep up this behavior for a week. He restocks my fridge in the mornings, I wake up and eat it all, then I postmates throughout the day to keep from dying of starvation. I haven't moved from the couch the whole week. On monday I am chugging a beer when I hear a rip. I look down and see a stomach, no, not a stomach, a gut resting on my thighs. I laugh and slap it, I'm just bloated. I barely eat, and I'm Reagan Ryan, I wouldn't be able to gain weight even if I tried. 


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