It would be a long busride, Ino had pack no more than four large suitcases. She was getting out of town, out of her shame, away from her humiliating downfall. Fear of flying she would take the bus from New York to her small hometown. No one had come to see her off, they had stopped calling when she had been admitted. Ino had fallen from grace.
The day Ino had turned eighteen she had booked her one-way ticket, promising out loud never to come back. She had thought that she was better than every single one of her friends staying behind. She had cried on the phone calling her daddy to ask if she could come spend the summer. He had as always agreed never saying no to his princess.
She was humiliated. She did not have the strength to go back. She would have to eat her own words. She had been defeated by anorexia nervosa.
"Promise to give me a kiss on my brow when I am dead. -I shall feel it."
The road to her downfall had been long.
Already at the age of fourteen Ino had replaced her lunch with sticks of celery. She had started memorizing nutrient tables like she did history, politics and math at school. She had started growing never in size just height. The boy at school had noticed. She looked good, she always had. She was fueled by the attention she was giving, always hungry for more.
She loved the looks that males sent her; she loved it when the girls wrote that she was a skank in the bathroom stalls. At highschool Ino was not with the in-crowd, she was the in-crowd, she ran it. She ran the school, she and the company she kept.
At the same time Ino had always wished that her last skipped meal would turn her invisible. So that they could no longer see her as pained as she was and do nothing about it.
Naruto, the loudest kid at school which she casually flirted with.
Shikamaru the laid back stoner who always bickered and judged her for her choices.
Kiba, the dog lover, was allowed to hang with them. He always beat up who he was told for whatever reason.
Sasuke was the boytoy, the one who had rejected Ino at the beginning of high school.
She had him by their junior year, much to the dissatisfaction of her best friend.
Sakura was her faithful sidekick, brainy, charming, beautiful, but no threat to Ino until senior year.
They had a falling out due to Sasuke. They were friends solely for the reason that they were the two most popular girls at school. They knew that apart they would simply destroy each other. It was expected of them to be friends, and Ino wanted her life of be perfect. It was all vile and cliche. It was built on old habits. She felt safe when nothing changed unless she had control.
Ino had been the only one to leave state. She and Naruto had been the only ones to not attend college. Ino had skipped out on college to become a model.
She had decided the night she had lost in love to Sakura.
She was better looking that Sakura, more charming, skinnier, shameful, sexy, loving, fun, Ino was better than Sakura in any way.
Apparently not.
Ino thought of herself as the perfect woman, yet she had lost.
It all happened at her prom. It couldn't be more appropriate. She had called with tears trapped in her throat to her friend Itachi, Sasuke's older brother. He was already living in New York; he would help her set up. She would help her get started with her new life, her new career.
Itachi had been making a name in New York; he was an up and coming author. What little he had published had been praised. He got in to the best clubs, he had money and he was a decent bloke.
He had introduced her to Konan, an aspirating model like her. Konan was bigger than her, rawer. She did not mind screaming to get what she wanted; she could fend for herself and found her place in life once she had gone to over to become an alternative model. She dyed her hair an intense blue and found a place where she was finally worshiped for her curves.
Ino had eventually gotten signed with Tsunade. It took her a month, a month of hard work, going out to different clubs every night. At Tsunade's office she had been told to lose some weight, given a diet plan. As soon as she had gotten a couple of jobs she and Konan had gotten an apartment together. It had never been good between then after that. Konan was bitter at Ino. Konan was still not signed to anyone and she had been in the game longer than Ino.
One night Itachi had given them an invite to the top floor of Ice Cube, the hottest club at the moment. He had told them that his friend and boss was hosting. Itachi had whispered to Ino that night to not let the models smell the fear on her.
Ino did not feel any fear at all walking in. She looked around and felt right at home.
This was what Ino wanted.
All those calm models, so classy. They were all perfect, their high end and modest designer clothes, their legs that went on forever, their hair that looked like it took them hours to style. Now she knew it wasn't even their own.
Most important of all was their bodies; they made Ino look like her childhood nickname, pig.
She would be skinnier than all of them, she would become prettier.
Ino dragged her finger along her ribs to comfort herself, a habit she had since she had first gone on her first diet.
The feeling of her bones directly under her skin made her calm, her skin was a perfect fit without no body fat.
Konan had started mingling around the room. Ino had not even noticed her going to the back to the suits.
Itachi was as normal gone as soon as your eyes left him.
Their world was divided in two. Models and suit. Ino had been told not to give a fuck about the models; their first instinct was to hate you anyway.
The suits signed you, dressed you, took your photographs, they paid you.
Ino was living her childhood dream, nothing could bring her down now, and she was only going further up.
She was going to become a glossy girl.
Ino went over to the bar to order herself a drink.
She had failed to notice that the models were only bringing their drinks up to their lips. Alcohol contained too many calories. She smiled at the man next to her.
He had blond hair to die for, unlike hers his was full of color and warmth. With those cheekbones and muscular body Ino was not sure if he was a suit or model.
He was nothing like the guys she had left behind in her hometown that was certain. He looked at her twice while she was waiting for her drink. Nobody seemed to care to check her ID. They knew the police would never check up on a party like this. They had a free pass.
The blond was deep in conversation with a short, fat man, obviously a suit. The lady with red hair was most likely a make-up artist judging on her style and body.
Konan came out of nowhere and dragged Ino away.
"What the hell are you doing? Promise not to ruin this night for me!"
Ino tilted her head, making it obvious that she had no idea what Konan was talking about.
"That man you were eye flirting with, that is Deidara. Deidara is only the most successful photographers and work only with the best. He chews and cums on girls like you. Danger, stay away."
Konan was off again, she didn't have time for Ino. She was mingling.
Ino was flattered while at the same time she had a bad taste in her mouth. Ino did not know where to stay, she knew no one. She tried to mingle with the girls like her, powerless and undiscovered. It didn't work out. They weren't as easy going and energetic as her.
A few drinks later she made it to the dance floor. She did not dance like the few other souls on the dancefloor. She danced like she danced at home. Sexy, provocative, playing on her body and sex. It was what she had learned sold.
She closed her eyes and danced to the music, up and down, side to side. When she opened them she discovered a raging Konan storming her way, she had an audience. Ino quickly stopped her dancing and made a break for the bathroom. She was getting sweaty and she was clearly drunk.
She saw herself in the mirror, she was already starting to lose weight and she could see that. She was better at dieting than Konan. They tried to support each other, encourage each other not to eat. They had together thrown out almost all the food they had at home. They had gone through all the trick, pictures on the fridge, smaller plates, salting their meals so it almost hurt eating it.
Someone suddenly opened the door and came in before Ino could yell occupied. It was the blond from the bar. He smiled and locked the bathroom door, she must have forgotten to. He held up a credit card and she did not know why until he fished out a small bag of white powder. She was uncertain and frankly scared.
She smoked her share of joints, stolen daddy's brandy and such, but it stopped there.
She had never taken drugs that could kill you.
He worked in silence, lined up three lines of the powder, and snorted two lines himself with $100 bill. He handed his equipment over to her.
"You're new in the scene,"
He stated
"I'm Deidara, I hate the summer."
She took his credit card and money.
"Is it because the sun competes with your hair?"
She asked, he sniggered.
"I like you; we should work together once you're down in two digits."
He must have talked about her weight. She leaned over and snorted the drug like he had done. It hit her like she hit the bathroom wall. She kissed him back, he was the dominant one and she let him dominate.
They had made out a couple of minutes when he tried to pull the zipper on her black dress with gold sequins down. She stopped him. "You don't even know my name, bad boy."
She held her finger over her lips smiling as she left the room. Once out she made a run for it. She did not care if she had made things difficult for herself, she did not care that she had left Konan behind. She would not suck some guys dick or even worse for the promise of a contract that never would be made. The next week she was called into his studio.
Ino never knew that was the start to her demise. She didn't know what kind of monster within she had created.
Now she was boarding the bus to take her back to her dad to the hometown she never felt home in.
xoxoxoxo
I'm sorry if I'm mistaken, but that's how I remember and experienced those parties. (from my short and very low key modeling days) I do have a few friends who are aspiring and they describe these parties similar.
My protip is forget these kind of parties if you're looking for a good time and not building connections.
If you want a good time and a sick party, getting backstage on concerts is always worth the trouble... But those kind of parties are another story...