When I'd first moved out of home, it was straight into a shared apartment. Other than London, I had never lived on my own. The thought of doing so was both exciting and nerve-wracking.
In London it didn't really matter what my living arrangements were because I was rarely there. The work hours were longer and the days busier. Some nights I would just crash on a friend's couch, granted I didn't have a shoot the next day.
Before I left England, I had made arrangements to come back having a place of my own. It wasn't as though I'd never considered owning my own house - a six figure pay check could accommodate that quite comfortably - I'd just never needed to.
I was still young when I'd moved out of my parents' house and when living with someone else, I thought I could never be happier. That I'd never need anything different. It was a kick in the guts to find out the hard way that wasn't true.
I'd been in contact with a real estate agent over the phone in London who had done her best to hunt down places suitable for my needs.
I didn't need anything big and flashy. My vision for the future was to save my money for a house I'd have a family in but now that that was all gone, I'd had a change of heart.
Rita, my agent, had finally found the perfect place after three months of searching. It was a small, two-storey house only ten minutes from my parent's place and was updated in all the latest appliances and decor while still remaining authentic.
Rita had given me a house tour over Skype. It wasn't the most conventional nor practical way to purchase a house but we'd made it work. I was only living with my parents since I'd returned because my moving-in day wasn't until a week after I got back.
Finally, that day had come and I was trying to contain my nerves at the prospect of moving in alone.
"Honey, relax." Mom said as she carried a box past me and out the front door. "Everything is running smoothly. Stop looking like you're about to bounce off the walls."
I laughed sheepishly. "I guess I'm just a little nervous. We never had to do this in London. It was all just...there when I arrived."
Mom turned to me. "All the more reason you should be excited now. You're finally doing this on your own. It's a big step Troye, and you should be nothing but proud."
"Thanks, Mom."
Dad closed the trunk of the car and called from the driveway, "Alright, that was the last box. You ready to get on the road, kid?"
"I guess so."
Turning around, I gave my childhood home one last look. It had been years since I'd lived here but it still held so many memories. Coming back to it had always been home.
Then I turned again, facing away from the house. Facing my future.
Mom kissed my cheek as I opened the back door of the car. It was as if she knew what I was feeling. Smiling at her, I climbed in and we got on the road.
The drive to the new house was quiet. Dad reached across the console to take Mom's hand in his and she smiled at him. I looked away.
The driveway wasn't very long so Dad only had to back the car up a little way from the street. The fence around the property blocked out most of the street view. Climbing out, I gazed up at the house for the first time in person.
Rita had done a fantastic job. The house was a blue-grey colour with white trims and a charcoal finish. A dark, sleek roof glinted in the sunlight, having just been freshly painted.
The lawn was freshly cut and groomed. A small hedge lined the garden next to the front porch with a handful of plants decorating the front steps that curved around towards the driveway.
Large windows opened into the front room, but the hedges concealed most of the view inside for the sake of privacy. Around the corner sat the double-door garage with a smaller storage garage next to it.
I couldn't stop the words from falling out of my mouth. "It's amazing."
"It certainly looks nice," Dad agreed, coming to stand beside me and wrap one arm around my shoulders.
Mom opened the trunk and turned to us with a smile. "Well, don't just stand and gawk at it. Let's get these boxes inside."
There weren't enough boxes to need any movers and I hadn't brought any furniture so it only took a few trips to get everything inside. The boxes lined the entryway and as soon as I'd set the last one down, I ventured off to explore.
Rita had given me a very thorough tour of the house but you could only show so much through a computer screen. I knew once I'd seen just the first floor that I'd made the right choice.
An open entryway branched off into two rooms. The left lead into the main living room whilst the right was a smaller room with the intention to become an office. Both were already furnished with cream-coloured furniture, though I'd probably have to redesign the office since I didn't generally have the type of job that required such a space.
The end of the hall opened up into the open back space of the house. It was large and filled with furniture already such as the dining table, a bookshelf in the corner, a number of decorative plants and a large mirror on the wall.
The kitchen was large and spacious. Rita hadn't been exaggerating about the updated appliances; the fridge had a touchscreen that I low-key disapproved of. I rarely used technology save for work reasons. The idea of a Smart Fridge trying to plan my day annoyed me but I could look past it.
The back of the room was probably the best. A large bay window with a cushioned seat opened up to a great view of the backyard. Sconces sat on each side of the wall that illuminated the space in a warm glow. Looking at the number of cushions and the way the sun streamed in through the window, I knew I'd be spending a lot of mornings sipping my coffee here.
We ventured upstairs next as it was just as much my parent's first tour as it was mine. A landing opened up at the top of the stairs where a number of couches announced the room to be another sitting area. Two rooms broke off immediately to the left, one furnished as a guest room and the other holding numerous items of gym equipment. I usually worked out at the company gym so it was a toss-up whether I'd leave the room as it was or not.
Another bedroom was further down the hall and I noticed each one had an en-suite bathroom. The end of the hall was the game-changer though.
I'd never needed fancy things in my life. I'd grown up quite privileged as it was because of my parents and I was fortunate enough to receive a high-paying job at such a young age. I didn't need all the luxury facilities people often wished for.
That being said, I couldn't help but let a gasp escape me as I pushed open the doors to my own bedroom.
It was the biggest room in the house, followed by the largest en-suite bathroom. An alcove had been built in to accommodate for the California King bed that sat in the centre. A nightstand sat on either side.
Across the room, a TV sat mounted opposite to the bed on the wall. An entertainment centre sat directly under it. Further to the right, a dresser stood alone before the wall curved around.
I followed it and was shocked to find a large walk-in closet situated behind it. An ottoman sat in the middle of the room as draws and bare racks surrounded the walls, each one empty as it awaited the contents of my wardrobe. A full-length mirror sat in one corner.
The bathroom was modern and renovated. A jet bathtub sat along one wall with a spacious shower next to it in the corner. The counter had two basins but I knew I'd only be using one. A toilet sat in the corner opposite the shower.
"This is quite spacious," Mom commented. "A little big for just one person, don't you think?"
"I'm sure it'll be fine." I smiled. I didn't take up a lot of space anyway.
Mom went back out into the main room. "Do you like the decor?" She ran a hand down the dark panelling of the bed's frame. "We can always redecorate if you like. I saw a really nice bedroom set on sale at-"
"Mom," I interrupted with a laugh. "It's really okay. It's perfect."
Turning around, I took in my surroundings. Unlike the rest of the house, this room had a darker aesthetic. Rita had asked me about a few design ideas for the interior decorator but I'd had nothing specific in mind.
"I'm sure the decorator will know what works best rather than I." I'd told her over the phone. "I'm happy with anything."
I wasn't sure what motivated the room to take on a darker appeal but I loved it regardless. It was a mix between black and white tones with a few greys to soften the harshness of the blend. I adored it.
Dad trailed into the room eventually, having been touring through the rest of the second level first. "It's quite a nice place, son. You did well. Do you need me to revise any of the paperwork with you?"
"I already went over the details with an attorney before purchasing the house. There was nothing overly stipulating that required negotiation so I signed the papers a month ago."
A hand came down on my shoulder and my father smiled at me. "I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, Dad."
"Alright," Mom said, rubbing her hands together as we went back downstairs. "Let's get these boxes unpacked, shall we? Oh honey, your father and I were also thinking we could order some take out for dinner? Keep it casual-"
I cut her off with a gentle smile. "If it's alright with you guys, I'd actually like to unpack myself."
Mom looked around at the number of boxes on the floor and raised an eyebrow. "This will take hours as it is. It'll be late by the time you get even halfway and there's no food in the house-"
"Mom, really. It's okay." I chuckled. "I managed to survive in London, I'll be fine here too. Besides, I have work in the morning. I need to get back to my regular meal plan."
Mom took a step forward, prodding at my torso as she said, "You're turning into skin and bones. You need to eat more, honey."
Her statement wasn't exactly true. My job required a certain physique and I upheld it, but my dietician helped me keep a balanced diet that allowed for healthiness and happiness. I hardly put a thought into what I ate most days. Promoting a healthy mindset in this industry was more important than worrying how you look all the time.
"Leave him alone, Nadia." Dad chided gently to my right. "He's a grown man. He'll be fine."
"Scott, you're in your forties and you still eat children's cereal for breakfast."
"I only eat Cap'n Crunch on weekends!"
"It's just made of sugar! There's no nutritional value."
Dad scoffed and a pout came over his face that he would deny to the end of time. I laughed as Mom scowled at him, hands on hips. I adored my parents.
"I promise I will not be eating sugary cereals for breakfast each morning," I told her, only because I knew she worried. "And I'll call you in the morning."
"Are you sure you don't want a hand?"
I loved my mom. "It's okay, really. I'll be fine."
"We know you will," Dad smiled as they began to reluctantly head towards the door. "Just call us if you need anything."
"I will. Bye Mom," I said, leaning in to hug her before turning to my father. "Bye Dad. Thank you for everything."
"I would do anything for both my kids, you know that." Dad replied before leaning a little closer to whisper in my ear, "For Heaven's sake, call your mother. She'll worry all day if you don't."
"I promise." I laughed, opening the front door for them as they made their way out and climbed into the car. "Thank you."
"I love you." Mom said, leaning out the window with a sad look. "Call us if you need anything, Troye. I mean it."
"I love you guys." I told them, because I did. Truly, and with my whole heart. "I'll see you soon."
"Bye son." Dad called out the window as they began to pull away. Mom sent me a sad look, though she tried to disguise her worry. It didn't work but I appreciated her concern.
"We'll see you soon!" she called as they drove away. I watched their car disappear down the street before heading back inside.
When inside, I closed the front door behind me, locked it, and leaned back against it to observe the mess of boxes in front of me. The beautiful, chaotic, wonderful mess of the beginning to an independent life.
For the first time in a long time, I smiled. The house was quiet and it was just me and it was cold but it was home. It would be home.
I rifled through a few boxes before deciding to unpack the rest later and prepare for my first day back at the company tomorrow.
When night fell, I didn't bother turning on the lights. Dark shadows fell over the house and I wandered through the bottom floor until I found my way back to the front door.
There, a tasteless meal in hand and a blanket wrapped around my shoulders to fight off the chill, I sat in the cold hallway of my new house, leaning against the front door, and smiled.
***
There were many common misconceptions about what it was like to live as a professional model.
Most people assumed that running yourself into the ground with three-hour workouts and eating nothing but lean meats and greens was an active lifestyle for a model, but there was so much more to it than that.
In London, my working days had started at five o'clock in the morning and ran until anywhere between seven to nine o'clock that night on a good day. Unfortunately, shoot timings were unpredictable and made the rest of the day's schedule somewhat turbulent.
Now that I was home in California, my routine varied once again. My alarm went off at five o'clock the next morning where I jumped out of bed and headed off to the gym for an hour.
From there, it was come home to shower and eat a fulfilling breakfast. Sipping coffee in my new window seat in the kitchen was definitely something I could get used to.
Contrary to popular belief, the morning of a model could be quite relaxed. Partly because it started so early, and partly because it had to be. Rushing into a shoot with bags under your eyes or skin red from a hasty workout and quick shower was not an ideal situation.
Eating breakfast was always a peaceful time for me. My phone was turned off and in another room, giving me the opportunity to take in my surroundings fully without distractions as I admired my freshly-trimmed backyard. The thought of getting a dog crossed my mind once or twice but I decided against it.
After washing away this morning's workout in the shower, I attended to a basic skin care routine. Most of the products I used had been recommended to me by the makeup department or were left over from sponsorships I'd engaged with in the past.
My agent had sent a copy of the day's schedule to my phone the night before and I checked it routinely throughout the morning. Given that it was my first day back with my original company, I had a lot to do today to settle back in. Namely because I had also acquired a new role.
Four years ago, the company's Director and my boss, Claire, had brought up the idea of me becoming Head of Personnel at the company. Despite my qualifications, it was a long shot and would give me far less time behind the camera, if any.
When my contract at the company ended, I had moved straight on to London and the position had been filled in my absence. Now that I was back, Claire had contacted me three months ago with a new job proposition. I would be working part-time with new recruits to help refine their skills in a professional environment.
I had questioned the idea at first. We didn't just have unqualified models waltzing in off the street after all. The company recruited from modelling agencies where individual agents would seek work for their talent and if the company liked them, they would be contracted.
When informing Claire of this fact, she'd told me that while the models who came to the company were expected to already have a detailed portfolio and experience in the field, it would be my job to help polish their skills in a real, professional environment. It was more of a mentor role than professional.
Over the years I'd watched many new models let the stress of a shoot get to them. It wasn't the photographer's job to train the model on the side as well as do their own job, and many became easily frustrated should it happen on set. That would be where I stepped in.
Part of me could see where Claire was coming from. It often surprised people when I told them of how amateur I was when I'd first got in front of the camera as a teenager. Most people looked at me now and argued that fact against my skill and professionalism, but I was young and unpractised when I'd first started working at the company. It had taken me months to adjust to the atmosphere in professional studios as opposed to junior shoot sets.
First, it would be attending appointments with my dietician and physician. At noon I had a meeting with the Board of Directors to discuss my new role in the company and what my contract entailed. I'd been fortunate enough to retain some time in front of the camera so I had a shoot later in the afternoon. My first shoot since being back in California.
I arrived at work early in the morning. Only a handful of people passed by me in the hallways as I lead myself further into the building. An office had been set up for me before I'd arrived back in the States and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't somewhat excited to see it.
The elevator took me up to the fifth floor and I stepped out into a quiet scene of glass walls and red leather furniture. I'd never been on this floor. The setting was immaculate.
The email on my phone said that my office was number 306. Walking down the narrow, twisting hallway, I eventually found my door, not at all expecting what was right in front of me.
I'd told Claire over the phone from London that I didn't need anything fancy. My hours in this space would be limited and all I needed to do was file some paperwork and maybe a few things on the computer. Both my roles were pretty hands-on and wouldn't need a lot of time to sit at a desk.
Clearly Claire had thrown all that out the window because what waited for me was not what I expected.
A large white door led into a spacious quarters. The walls were a soft cream and the carpet beneath my feet a light charcoal. Directly in front of me, the walkway lead to a large desk that sat in front of a series of panelled windows that overlooked the city skyline.
To my left, a brief glance said that a small stylist room was in construction. More often than not designers gifted me early prototypes of their designs during photo shoots or meetings. I didn't keep all of them but a handful of sentimental pieces now hung around the room. The space was completed with a mirror taking up one wall for quick change-overs during the day.
My breath was stolen. "Wow."
My feet moved on their own as I wandered about the space. Trailing my hands across the smooth wood of the desk, I moved to look out the window. The city below was alive and shining.
"What do you think?"
A voice at the doorway startled me. I turned to find none other than Claire herself leaning in the door frame. She smiled knowingly, "Finding everything okay?"
"This is-" I twisted my head each direction, gobsmacked. "This is too much, Claire."
Waving her hand in dismissal, my Director moved further into the room. "Nonsense. All the executive offices are even more grandeur than this. I just wanted you to have a warm welcome of return."
"But this," I laughed somewhat uncomfortably, turning in a full circle to emphasise my point. "This is really fancy. There's even an adjoining room."
"It is equipped with everything you need and nothing more. You needed a space that enabled you perform two roles and that's what we gave you. Now, stop stressing. You're supposed to be basking in this and thanking me."
"But-"
"Say it."
"I-"
She gave me a stern look and I sighed. "Thank you, Claire. Really, it's beautiful."
Claire broke out in a grin. Dropping her tablet onto the armchair, she stretched her arms out. "Come here."
I moved into her arms and lightly embraced my friend. She was nearly a head taller than me in heels which made the hug awkward but I powered through. Claire was more than my boss. She was my friend of many years.
"It's good to have you back, kiddo. Things haven't been the same without you."
"Claire, I'm twenty-four." I laughed, stepping back to fix my hair where she'd ruffled it. "You have to drop the 'kiddo' nickname at some point."
"When I've known you since you were a junior in high school, you can bet your ass you're the kid in this situation. Besides, the younger you are is the younger I am."
"Oh c'mon. You're not old."
"Yeah, you're right." Claire tapped a manicured claw against her temple thoughtfully. "I'm just a thirty-four year old Director for one of the top modelling agencies in the state whose husband complains that I sleep with my phone more than him. Not to mention, I haven't been to the gym in four months because I sprained my ankle running after the coffee cart in last season's Valentinos. You're right, I'm as young as they come."
"Andrew adores you." I broke out in laughter, referring to Claire's strapping six-foot-two husband who works as a team physician to the Lakers. They'd attended many company events on each other's arm, both radiant in one another's presence. It was sweet to witness but I'd never want that for myself.
"Well," She smoothed down her pencil dress. "We won tickets on the radio to some hot-shot rock band next month. Word is the lead singer - Taylor? Tyler? Whoever - invites women up on stage." She laughed. "Hopefully a night out will help rekindle the romance. Between work and Rosie, all we do is fall asleep on one another lately."
"How is Rosie?"
The Director beamed at the mention of her two-year old daughter. I'd received photos in London when she'd been born and could already tell Claire was a goner. That girl had stolen her mother's heart from day one.
"She put her own shoes on by herself last week," Claire glowed. "I mean, they were on backwards but the smile on her face. Oh Troye, I would move mountains for that kid, I swear."
Tapping quickly on the screen, Claire turned her tablet around to show me her home screen. It was of her and Rosie, the latter being a spitting image of her mother with a mess of blonde ringlets and bright blue eyes beaming at the camera.
"She's gorgeous!" I gushed, admiring the picture. "Got her mother's looks, hey?"
Claire playfully rolled her eyes. "It was either that or a black fohawk and stubble. Stubble, Troye. On a physician."
"The heart wants what the heart wants." I teased.
We both laughed before settling into a state of easy calm. Claire's eyes swept over my desk and around the room before she checked her watch and grimaced. "Crap. I hate to drop and run but I'm late for about a thousand things. Knowing you, you're already all over today's schedule so I'll just see you upstairs for the Board meeting soon. Don't hesitate to shoot me a message if you have any questions." She headed for the door.
"Will do." I replied, "Oh, and Claire?"
The Director stopped in the doorway. I smiled at her. "Thank you."
Claire returned the look warmly. "It's good to have you back, kiddo. Now I just have to keep you here."
She took off down the hall and I leaned back against my desk, muttering to the empty room, "As long as nothing drives me away again."
***
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