An englarged photo of Betty in an overly tight bikini has been hung up over her desk on display for the whole of the Mode staff to see. Betty enters her office admidst sniggering and cruel laughter
Look, I get it. I'm not your typical Mode glamazon. I don't have 6 feet long waxed limbs and I cant tell a Prada bag from a K-mart bag. Maybe that shocks you, disgusts you, makes you laugh, cry, howl like the cruel hyenas you people are. Honestly I don't care. Laugh all you want, you wont bring me down. All you care about is your image, trying to cover up all your insecurities with those layers of foundation, gloss, designer suits.
The thing is though, you're see through. All of you, your flaws are showing beneath the surface. You can make fun of me, the burrito eating girl from Queens who knows nothing about fashion but at least I have the guts to stay true to who I am. I've come a long way and if you think you can get rid of my whilst Daniel is gone, think again. I'm here to stay.
Betty takes the photo down and sits at her desk, working as if nothing happened