Mansion: a large, impressive house.
That. Now that was understatement of the year! This place was massive, with the gardens and everything, too. A beautiful Victorian style mansion that was light yellow, with white trim, which was really pretty and sunny, even if it doesn't sound like it. A furnished wood door and wood window frames, which were all glazed and so they caught the sun. And then there was the garden. Vibrant purples, pinks and blues mixed with soft yellows, oranges and red, mixed with the green combined created a mexmerizing and fascinating mix of colours that was overloaded in its beauty. The grass was lush, extremly so, and ankle high and waved in the wind, creating a soft shhhh sound. The flowers were healthy and were shining, literally shining because they were so healthy. Which was scary in a good way. The gate was wrought iron and black, which was a nice contrast with the bright colours of the garden. Lovely. Spectacular. Beautiful. And the place where I would work later on, but I didn't know that just then.
I walked in and put a hand on the polished mahogany reception desk. There was a pretty brunette behind the counter that wasn't as tanned as me, but was nearly as nice in the other ways. She must be a model, I concluded.
"Leah Clearwater, I presume?" A middle-aged woman in her forties, with designer clothes on and hair up in a neat ponytail, said, suddenly appearing from a doorway.
"Yes." I replied.
"You've got the job." She said. I was shocked. Two sentences, and I've already got a job. At the Star Agency, too!
"How? Why? I mean, you know." I said.
"Well. You are perfect." She said, gesturing to my legs.
"Oh. Right." I said, and she motioned me to follow her through a spacey hall, furnished to the nines, and we stopped in front of a large door.
"Now. Walk in and strut your stuff!" She said. Slang. I didn't know she could say slang. Her of all people too.
So I opened the door. And walked. Feet in a straight line, stretch the legs. I walked into a hall of about three hundred people. Three hundred people on my first time. I was scared, yes, nervous, yeah, but I was determined to do well. Modelling had been my dream for ages and I'd always wanted to be independent, so this was really big for me. But I was quite sure that even if I fell of the stage they would still want me. Because they were all staring at me. I was pretty sure that I walked right into a modelling internship course. And some girls were so skinny it was ugly and unnatural, and some girls had beautiful curves. Now me, on the other hand, had long legs, was naturally thin and nice curves and was losing the baby fat, but I had baby fat in all the right places. I don't like bragging, but its true. The teachers, impeccably young and perfect female teachers that looked 30 but were probably 40 were each standing around a group of about 20 interns. Scary doesn't even start to cover it, you know.
And guess what? I loved it. Every minute, every thing. This was me. The spotlights, the catwalk, the staring. Awesome. I absolutely loved it.
Oh, I was sad to see the end, after I turned around again, and as I headed towards the exit, I heard whispers.
Who is she? One jealous girl whispered to her friend.
Wow. You know, one day, I'm going to be her. A nice girl said to herself mostly. I turned my head slowly and just an inch, and saw the girl. She was really pretty. Brunette, nice figure and an awesome fashion sense. Right now she was wearing zebra print leggings with a white baggy t-shirt that was secured with a big brown leather belt (fake leather, of course) with a wooden buckle. A choker (green) with a couple of multi-coloured chunky necklaces. A pair of flats and she was done.
I walked through the exit, and was met by my new manager. Stella. She was really nice, and acted kinda like my mum, and she introduced me to my new agent, Annie. Annie was really friendly, and around my age, so we talked a lot.
"Well. First, we need to go on a shopping spree. Designer, of course. And you'll be getting new clothes every show, but back-up you know." Annie said, winking.
"Yeah. I can't wait! I love shopping. And the free clothes don't sound at all bad either." I said.
"Here's your first paycheck." Stella said. I took it. And gasped. £10, 000.
"That, is for accepting us as your agency. You will be an instant hit. And don't worry. The clothes you'll buy are on the company. The clothes on you at all times will be our and your advertisements. And really, we'd be glad to do it! Clothes equal life, doesn't it?" Stella continued.
"I would spend that money on renting an apartment. You should get a penthouse apartment too. I am pretty sure that you'll be a major star the first time you set foot on a catwalk in a proper fashion show." Annie said.
"I was planning on it." I said, smiling. See how nice Annie is?