The following days were a blur. Meg was still processing the fact that she had actually done a modeling shoot. And, somehow, it hadn't been a total disaster. She had expected to trip over herself, or maybe give a totally awkward "smoldering" look, but instead, she had pulled it off. Kyle, the photographer, seemed impressed—though Meg still wasn't entirely sure if he was being serious or just being nice to avoid hurting her feelings.
But then, the call came.
It was a Friday afternoon, and Meg was sitting at her usual corner of the coffee shop, staring at her laptop. She had been debating whether to apply to another batch of graphic design jobs when her phone buzzed. She almost didn't answer. After all, it was from the same 310 area code she'd gotten the last time. The same modeling agency area code.
No way. This has to be a prank.
But curiosity got the better of her, so she answered. "Hello?"
"Meg? It's Lacey from VIP Modeling again! How's your day going?"
"Oh, hi, Lacey. It's... going well." Meg tried to sound casual, though her heart was pounding. "What's up?"
"Well, I have some exciting news for you! We were really impressed with your test shoot, and we'd love to bring you in for a paid campaign shoot next week!" Lacey's voice practically squealed with excitement. "It's for an up-and-coming fashion brand, Fresh Threads. They're looking for models with a more 'real-world' look, you know? No more cookie-cutter supermodels. They want someone who represents the average person in a chic way. And, well, we think you're perfect!"
Meg blinked. "Wait, paid? You're serious?"
"Absolutely!" Lacey said, practically giddy. "We've got a spot for you on the team. The shoot's next week, and it's going to be a huge deal. There'll be stylists, makeup artists, and even a high-end fashion director. Think of it like your very own runway show, but with way more carbs, giggly laughter, and probably fewer weirdos making you walk in heels for eight hours straight."
"Okay, uh… wow," Meg stammered, her mind racing. "I'm… I'm kind of speechless."
"Good! That's the effect we're going for," Lacey quipped. "Now, I'll send you the details, but get ready to make your big debut. This is going to be huge, Meg! And hey, if you do well, we'll keep you on for future gigs. Who knows? This could be the start of a real career."
"Wait, wait, wait—hold on," Meg interrupted, trying to process what was happening. "So, you're telling me that I'm going to be in a fashion campaign next week? Me? Just like that?"
"Yep, just like that!" Lacey laughed. "You've got the look, you've got the attitude, and you've definitely got the quirkiness that makes you stand out. It's gonna be fun. You're gonna love it."
Meg sat back in her chair, her mind spinning. She glanced around the coffee shop, half expecting someone to jump out from behind a plant and shout, "Surprise! You're on a hidden camera show!"
But no, this was real. This was actually happening.
"Okay, wow. I guess I'm in," Meg finally said, her voice slightly shakier than she wanted it to be. "What do I need to do?"
Lacey's voice went back to business mode. "Great! I'll send you the schedule and details, but for now, just make sure you've got your wardrobe ready. Casual, but elevated. We're talking trendy denim, sleek boots, maybe a chic jacket. But most importantly, just bring yourself. You're going to do amazing, Meg!"
As the call ended, Meg stared at her phone for a few moments, trying to process what had just happened. She had been hired for an actual modeling gig. She was going to be in an ad campaign. This was not the Meg Griffin who was constantly being overlooked in Quahog. This was a Meg who was about to step into a whole new world.
Her phone buzzed again. It was a text from her mom.
"Meg, have you heard from Quagmire? He says you're doing something called 'modeling' and we all think it's a scam. Are you sure this is legit? I'm worried. Please call me."
Meg couldn't help but laugh out loud. Her family, as usual, was freaking out. But this time, it was different. She was on her own path now. She wasn't the Meg Griffin they thought they knew. She was carving out her own identity.
She quickly typed back: "Don't worry, Mom. It's real. And I'll prove it when I'm famous."
Then, she turned her attention back to the email that had just popped into her inbox. The details for her first official modeling gig were staring back at her in bold letters. Meg felt a surge of excitement. The next chapter of her life was about to begin.
"Who knew being quirky and awkward would actually pay off?" Meg muttered to herself as she hit "reply" on the email. "Maybe LA is my kind of place after all."
With a grin, she got up from the coffee shop table, feeling more alive than she had in years.
It was happening. Meg Griffin was on her way to becoming the next big thing.