Give Me Love, Give Me Peace on Earth (George Harrison); 3:35
Emily snorts as the girl in front of her replies with the stereotypical answer. The things she put up with, being a model.
"And you, Ms. Davis?" the MC for the fashion show questions. "What is the one thing you'd ask for if you knew you would receive it?"
"Honestly?" she laughs, flashing white teeth at the camera. "I would not ask for peace on Earth. Granted, it would be a pretty cool idea. But, how long would it last? I'd like one thing: love."
"Who would be the one to give you this love?" he asks with a grin, hungry for gossip on the former Miss Canada.
"He knows who he is. He proposed once," she grins.
"Oh?"
Mysteriously, her red lips slip into a smirk, not unlike the one of her former obsession.
"Well," the man turns to the camera, "that's all we have time for right now. Stay tuned, and listen to these messages from our sponsors."
The girl in front of her, a skinny blonde from the West Coast, glowers at her.
"Nothing personal," Emily shrugs.
"Yeah, right. I'm your only real competition."
"Don't tell that to number five, she might puncture your implant with her stiletto," the African-Canadian model comments honestly.
The fashionista behind Emily snorts as the blonde stomps away. Her Asian, almond shaped eyes widen as Emily turns to her.
"Hi. What do you think of all this?"
The girl blushes. "I think it's kind of silly. I'm going to ask for a way out of this question."
Emily throws her head back and laughs, getting a few odd looks from the other contestants.
"I go to U of T, like you. I graduate this spring. I'm Aimee."
"I'm Emily. Class of—"
"2013," Aimee interrupts. "Sorry, you're kinda famous."
Emily laughs and pushes her curls back into place. "You know, I thought I wanted to be a designer. Still do, actually, but that's not the point."
They hear, "Back on in five."
"Good luck, kid," Emily smiles.