They want to have you as a model

A week had passed, and it had been quite challenging for me. Despite my initial excitement and Tyron's encouragement, finding meaningful work had proven difficult. Most days were spent scrolling through job listings, sending out applications, and waiting for responses that rarely came.

It was disheartening, but I refused to let it break my spirit. This morning, however, I woke up in relatively good spirits.

I climbed out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water was refreshing, and I took extra care with my hair, making sure to condition my curls thoroughly. As I dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, I made a mental note to buy some new clothes soon. "I really need to update my wardrobe," I muttered to myself.

Before leaving my room, I grabbed my phone and checked Instagram. The photo Tyron had posted a few days ago now had over 700 likes, and my follower count had grown to 55. It wasn't much, but it was incredibly encouraging. I couldn't help but smile at the progress. Maybe this modeling dream wasn't so far-fetched after all.

With a deep breath, I exited my room and headed to the kitchen. I sighed loudly before entering, bracing myself for whatever comments my mother or sister might throw at me today. Sure enough, as soon as I opened the fridge, Clara's voice cut through the silence.

"Well, well, Elena, I see you've updated your Instagram account. Planning to become an influencer now?" Clara laughed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. My mother joined in, adding, "Stop embarrassing yourself like this."

I ignored them, pouring myself a glass of orange juice. Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Tyron. "Meet me at the café from last time. I've found something for you :)," it read. I couldn't suppress the smile that spread across my face. Quickly, I typed back, "I'll be there in 10 minutes."

As I got up to leave, my mother called after me, "Where are you going now? Don't come back too late. We have your future in-laws visiting tonight." Her words sent a shiver down my spine.

The last thing I wanted was to be forced into a marriage with Daniel, that deceitful man. Technically, he hadn't cheated on me yet, but I couldn't understand how I had missed all the signs before.

Ignoring my mother, I left the house and walked briskly toward the café. The morning air was cool, and the streets were beginning to fill with the usual hustle and bustle of Los Angeles. Despite the looming threat of the evening's family dinner, I felt a sense of determination and excitement.

When I arrived at the café, Tyron was already there, a broad smile on his face. As soon as I sat down, he launched into his news. "I showed your photo to a small agency, and they want to have you as a model," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

My heart leapt. "Really? What kind of shoot?" I asked, barely able to contain my joy.

"It's for a perfume brand," Tyron replied, his grin widening.

I felt a surge of happiness. This was exactly the kind of break I needed. "That's amazing, Tyron! Thank you so much," I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

He looked genuinely pleased. "I knew you had potential, Elena. This could be the start of something big for you. They want to do a test shoot first, to see how you fit with their brand, but I have a good feeling about this."

My heart raced as Tyron and I left the café and headed towards the location of the photo shoot. The address he gave me led us to a chic, upscale part of Los Angeles that I had only seen in movies and magazines. The streets were lined with designer boutiques and high-end restaurants.

Tyron chatted animatedly as we walked, but I was too nervous to contribute much to the conversation. I kept thinking about what Clara had said that morning, and I desperately wanted to prove her wrong.

As we approached a sleek, modern building with large glass windows, Tyron gestured towards it. "This is the place," he said, his excitement evident. We entered the lobby, which was all polished marble and minimalist decor. A receptionist with a stylish bob haircut greeted us and directed us to the elevator. 

When we reached the floor where the shoot would take place, my nerves kicked into overdrive. The space was a sprawling loft, flooded with natural light from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The scent of various perfumes wafted through the air, mingling with the aroma of fresh coffee from a nearby espresso machine. There were racks of clothing, tables covered with makeup products, and several people bustling around, setting up equipment.

The brand's logo, a sleek and elegant design, was prominently displayed on one wall. It was a brand far more popular than I had expected, and I felt a wave of anxiety.

Tyron must have sensed my unease because he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Relax, Elena. You're going to be great. Just be yourself," he said with a confident smile. His words soothed my nerves a bit, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

As we walked further into the loft, a tall man with a commanding presence approached us. He had a camera slung over his shoulder and an air of authority about him. "She looks even more beautiful in person, but her clothes are a bit… lacking," he said, scrutinizing me with a professional eye. "Makeup team, you've got some work to do. Make her look breathtaking, and choose some great clothes," he directed, his tone brisk but not unkind.

The man was Alexei Morozov, a name that immediately struck a chord. He was a renowned fashion photographer, famous for his work with top-tier fashion magazines and luxury brands. His photographs were known for their striking compositions and the way they captured the essence of his subjects. I felt a mixture of awe and intimidation as he evaluated me.

Almost instantly, a group of women surrounded me, guiding me towards a makeshift dressing area. They were efficient and friendly, chatting as they worked to transform my look. They handed me a stunning black dress that felt luxurious to the touch.

It was a figure-hugging, off-the-shoulder piece with intricate lace detailing along the neckline and hem. The dress exuded elegance and sensuality, striking the perfect balance. Along with it, they gave me a pair of black stiletto heels that added a few inches to my height and made me feel powerful.

The makeup artist worked quickly but meticulously, enhancing my features without overdoing it. She applied a subtle smoky eye, a touch of highlighter to accentuate my cheekbones, and a deep red lipstick that made my lips pop. My hair was styled into soft waves that framed my face, giving me an effortlessly glamorous look.

When they were done, I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. I looked like I belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. The transformation was astonishing, and for the first time, I felt a surge of confidence.

I walked back to where Alexei and Tyron were waiting. Alexei's eyes widened slightly as he took in my new appearance. "You look beautiful," he said, his approval evident in his tone. "Now, let's do the shoot."

I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and determination. This was my moment, and I was ready to make the most of it.