CHAPTER ONE ⇆ ANGELINA MORETTI
Beauty is subjective.
Whoever said that lied, because right now as the cameras flash and my agent shoots orders, I'm sure as fuck that those people aren't thinking of my subjective beauty, it's a painful realization, but what isn't in this life?
Beauty is a strange concept for me if we're being honest, A Victoria's Secret dress is beautiful, and a Lana del Rey song can also be considered beautiful, and other than that, human beauty for example,
Just like right now as my eyes flit around, to the model beside me, long shiny pale legs, delicate features, blue eyes, and blonde hair.
While here's me, Curly brown hair, dark skin, green eyes, and semi-sharp features, at the end of the day, we're both beautiful, just a different type of beauty, that's the thing about society.
They state an aspect of beauty that not everyone has, so most people believe that they hold no remorse, no possibility of being considered beautiful,
while a person might find the girl beside me more attractive than I am, another might think I'm more beautiful.
It's genuinely different, but not all people understand that, which forms this cycle of insecurities and self-doubt, it's exhausting, the pressure they place on us, only a few are able to overcome it and recognize their worth.
With men, it's a bit different, Rowan for example is beautiful with his charming smile and easygoing personality, Silas is attractive too, in a type of looks that are darker, a bit sinister, however while the beauty standards for them might appear a bit shallow.
That's not what I'm hinting about, it's the labels they throw around, like Rowan, if he was a woman he'd be labeled a slut, a whore, since he's a man, he's called a playboy.
My hands tighten around the phone as I scroll down his Instagram account, the guy appears superficial, charismatic, and extremely charming from the outside but that's not even what I care about.
I never gave a fuck about that, which is why he continues chasing after me harder, it's not that his beauty doesn't capture my attention but I'm not looking for a quick fuck, a quick one-night stand, there are deeper reasons for that but I ignore them.
A notification pops up, cutting off my racing thoughts, I click on it.
Rowan: Still won't answer me
He's been texting me all day, quite literally nonstop, I'd be lying if I said that he wasn't annoying me, so I just type in to save myself the headache.
Me: there's a question mark you missed.
Three dots appear.
Rowan: you're a model not an English teacher, hmm?
He adds a coma and a question mark, victory spreads through my body and I roll my eyes at his remark.
And just when I'm about to lock the phone, I see his name flashing across the screen, while Rowan and I were best friends throughout our whole childhood, we drifted apart as we grew up, or if we're being specific, I did.
Because it seemed that Rowan viewed me as something completely different than how he did when we were kids, he'd flirt every now and then, and while I felt attraction towards him, and I didn't deny it, I just didn't want to lose the image I always had of Rowan, my best friend, the guy I grew up with, who protected me, I wanted to lock that image into my heart.
Call me pathetic, I don't give a fuck, maybe it's obnoxious and unnecessary, but I'm not going to give in to his tactics, whatever it is he wants from me, he's not getting it. Because maybe deep down I know that once he gets that, once he has sex with me, he'll leave me like any other girl he fucked.
Did I like the attention he gave me? Yes, is it the reason I'm not giving in to his demands? No, after what seems like an eternity of overthinking, my finger finally hovers over the accept button and I excuse myself away for a moment.
The hairstylist thins her lips in a disapproving line but she nods curtly, I sigh and disappear along the hallway, back to the bathroom where it's silent,
"Lina." The childhood name does something to my heart that I ignore, it's actually painful, "Don't call me that." I snap even though I've told him shit about it numerous times.
"I want to see you." He insists, voice playful but slightly demanding, I sigh exaggeratedly, rubbing my eyes as I think of his offer actually, we're friends, friends should be there for each other, "Why?" I just ask instead.
"It's something important." His voice is no longer playful, lowering, "Is something wrong?" Slight concern spreads through my body but I shut off my thoughts, "Not wrong, just fucked up a bit, I'm coming over to LA in an hour anyway, think we can meet tonight? At your place maybe." He visited it a couple of times.
With all our friends actually, this is the first time he'll come here alone, I don't know why it brings a weird sensation through my body,
"Fine, give me a call when you land." I Offer dryly, gritting my teeth as I end the call moments later, I walk away, back into the room where my agent stands, eyebrow raised and anger morphing into her features.
While my dream has always been to get into the modeling industry, right now, it's so fucking hard to put up with their unrealistic standards, it's draining and just flat-out exhausting.
But no one reaches their goals with ease.
That's the only thing keeping me going, I can call it off in one day and go work at my father's company like Rowan is doing for example, but my dreams have always been bigger than that.
They always involved cameras and posts, walking down a runaway is a dream that has become true, so giving it up isn't in my dictionary, even though I'm not that famous yet.
"Take off your clothes." Sophia, my agent, speaks with a harsh-edged tone, telling me that declining her order isn't on the list, Jesus Christ, I had to throw my consent away the moment I stepped a foot into the fashion industry, my hand finds the hem of the dress I was wearing as I slowly slip it down my body so that I'm now in only my underwear; silk panties and a bra.
She eyes my body up and down, the word uncomfortable has been engraved through my mind for so long now but I swallow down my thoughts.
"Hmm, you're thinner, Bravo." She compliments and satisfaction rushes cold through my body as I raise my chin higher, it's not intentional for that matter but I'll take the victory either way.
"Thanks," I mutter under my breath, feeling more at ease, I've never strived for people's opinions on my appearance but well—I now work as a model, so my appearance is all I own, it's everything that can either make my dreams come true or ruin them.
"Not a lot of people have the willpower to continue in this industry, but you have the potential, don't give up." She's not the type who supports anyone with her words, but she does so as she eyes a dress and then my body.
"This will look beautiful, try it on." She hands it to me, the silk expensive material slipping from between my fingers, I breathe in and slip it on, looking at the mirror in front of me.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
"Yes yes! The love story is coming, I just told Elias that." my best friend of three years now speaks, "Stop dreaming, Aurelia, I'm not getting with Rowan." She's been rooting for our "Love" story since she stepped a foot into university.
I bet Vera agrees with her too, speaking of the girl, her voice interjects my thoughts, "Sorry, Angelina, but I lowkey agree with her." The traitor speaks, "Our friendship is over." I state as I brush my teeth.
They both laugh and I roll my eyes before retrieving the phone, the doorbell stops whatever I'm about to say, "Okay, seems like he arrived." He called about an hour ago to inform me that he landed in Los Angeles.
Goddamn it. I ignore my weird erratic heartbeats and end the call with both Vera and Aurelia moments later before brushing my hair with my fingers, taking a last look at myself in the mirror then strolling out of the bathroom and walking towards the door.
My hand finds the handle of the door and I click it open, revealing a six foot three smirking asshole, He's dressed in jeans that hang low on his hips and a hoodie that's flung up, revealing a hint of his abs and his V-line, I swallow, forcing my gaze to focus on his face instead.
His face is nothing less than striking. He has the type of beauty that calls out to you without words, Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and defined lips, he is no different than the models I work with, beautiful and sexy.
His chestnut hair that's short on the sides and long at the top is messy, finger-raked, and one strand is falling over his hazel eyes, I've never been delusional enough to lie and say that he's not attractive,
His smug smirk continues stretching when he notices that I'm checking him out, but I wear no embarrassment, the fucker goes around ogling girls here and there, no shame, he deserves worse than that.
"Beautiful as always, Lina." I glare at the nickname, clenching my jaw as I put aside his looks and take in his personality, knowing Rowan, he'll continue calling me that the more I continue telling him that I don't like it.
Because deep down, it's a lie.
"You look dead." His ego doesn't get affected in the slightest by my statement as his grin widens and he sidesteps me, his tall frame filling in my apartment, and while I'm tall at 5 feet 9, I still have to crane my neck a bit to meet his eyes.
Which is a lot of effort so I just walk away toward the couch, "You always had a way with words, so glad that never changed." He arches a brow, the same smile still stretched over his face.
Sometimes I wonder if it's just plastered there from how much he's smiling, "Shame, we both know who changed here." I'm not re-opening old wounds but the words slip out of my mouth as if I have always wanted to say them.
He shrugs, lifting a shoulder, "Well, this is taking a beautiful turn." Sarcasm drips from his tone, that might as well be the only thing we have in common, Sarcastic traits, lovely, isn't it?
"Why are you here?" I ask to cut to the point, eyes holding his, "It's a very complicated situation." He starts, this can't be good, he leans back, spreads his legs apart and I ignore the seductive action.
Maybe I am delusional because the boy I grew up with seems dead in the body of Twenty-five years old Rowan who's staring right in my eyes, and I think.
What's about to come seems very very...terrifying.
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