| Young and Beautiful | |
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| Topic Started: Mar 23 2018, 01:24 AM (2 Views) | |
| RainyMemory | Mar 23 2018, 01:24 AM Post #1 |
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Being born beautiful, rising steadily in the modeling industry, getting acting roles, having a couple albums released, becoming so rich I own all the latest furs and fashions, the best shoes, the best people working for me to help keep me as gorgeous as they tell me I am. I am, of course, as gorgeous as they praise I am. I'm perfect, from the top of my hair to the tips of my toes. From the very start, I've been taken care of because of my good looks. I'm average when it comes to intelligence, I don't think I'm anything special when it comes to acting, I'm almost positive my albums only sell because of the special photobooks that come in them. Female models are still popular, but male ones have had a huge boom in the past ten years. It's almost as if the roles have become reversed. Instead of girls on the cover of every magazine, telling what's what about how to make your boobs big, it's all tips from men on becoming muscular but staying lean. Tracing my fingertips over my jaw, down my neck and my chest, I sighed and pulled a curtain over the full body mirror. "You need something fixed?" Looking to the doorway, I found my manager standing there. He smirked and walked over, turning me to face him and feeling me up. It's not sexual, he's just inspecting me. Izo's never been interested in me sexually, it seems. I've never seen him attracted to anything but money, honestly. "Hmm, you look fine, feel fine... You're not getting fat, but your face has a little weight on it, but no one's complained, so it's probably fine." "I'm fine, just tired." "Rest up then, yeah? You have a day off tomorrow, so you should take the time to recover your spirit. Your eyes look dead, it's not a turn on at all." "You don't get turned on anyway." "I get turned on by women." Smiling, Izo helped me into a robe before bidding me a goodnight and taking the trip home. Pulling the curtain open again, I pushed and pulled at my face. I didn't have any weight on my face. If I had any less weight on my face, my cheeks would cave in and I'd go from lean to being sickly. The maids have gone home for the day, so has the personal chef and the gardener. So the house is dark and eerie when I step out of my oh-so-grand bedroom. I make my way into the kitchen and make myself a family sized serving of fettuccine alfredo and I eat all of it before puking it all back up quietly in the bathroom and grabbing an expensive bottle of wine to drink on the stairs. My house is colored in white and gold themes, as such, the maids are very angry after I fall asleep on the stairs and get deep red wine on my white robe and all down the stairs after the bottle had escaped my grip. But I don't wake up to them screaming at me, I wake up to someone shaking my shoulder and telling me sleeping on the stairs is dangerous. After not getting any real response from me, they pick me up bridal style and carry me into my room. The robe comes off, and I fully prepare myself to be used as an asleep-sex-doll or something, too tired and hung over to put up any resistance. Instead, I'm tucked in, carefully laid on my side and left alone for the time being. When I wake up again, it's from my phone ringing. It's my day off so I don't really want to pick up when I see it's Izo, but he'll just come over if I don't answer. "You need to take better care of your body, no more sleeping on the stairs and drinking until you pass out! You're a model, your body is your life! Now, anyway, tomorrow you're meeting with the director of a new drama, make sure to treat him nicely." I hang up as soon as he's done talking. I know what he means. It's always the same thing when it comes to acting jobs where I end up with not a lot of screen time. I drag myself out of bed, trying to decide what I want to do next. I'm hungry, but I don't feel like vomiting or taking laxatives, so I can't eat anything but what my chef makes me and his food is always disgusting and in small portions anyway. I shouldn't have anymore to drink, but I decide to pour myself a glass of wine anyway with painkillers. It's dangerous, so I shouldn't, but I don't care enough not to. I pull on some boxers and a t-shirt, going on out of my room to find my mess from last night being furiously cleaned up. I wonder if it would take them any longer to clean up the blood from if I fell down the stairs and cracked my skull open... I want to go outside and do something, but then I'll have to make myself presentable for press, and I don't feel like doing that either. There's nothing I feel like reading, no music I want to try playing or singing, nothing I want to cook without eating, I don't have any interest in writing or painting or sculpting. No energy for working out. Without work, I have no motivation for anything. I wonder if this is what they call 'depression'. Not that I can go to therapy or anything, the press would have a field day with that. There's nothing on TV, so I decide to try passing the time on the computer. I find hate-sites dedicated to me, and read all about what's wrong. My facial features are too strong, they're not Japanese enough. My eyebrows are too thick, my voice is too high, my cheek bones are too low, my lips are too big, my moles are ugly, I'm too skinny, I'm too fat. My ass is too small, my hips are too wide, my eyes are too dark, my teeth are ugly, my feet are too big, the thumb knuckle on my hand points out too much. I'm vapid, shallow, annoying, I try too hard to act tough, I should burn in hell, I should be shot dead, I should have my skin and nails and hair all slowly ripped from my body followed by my testicles and most likely baby-sized penis. I've never needed any sort of reconstructive surgery. Not once, not ever. But I wonder if I should. I also should drink less, but... "Ta-ku-ma-chan~" Smiling, I peek out of the bathroom in a robe. The director of the latest work I'll be in sits in a suit on his bed. "Isn't it about time to start? We only have so much time." I laugh a little, and agree. I step out of the bathroom, swaying my hips just a bit, and I open my robe. He smiles and runs his hands over my torso, he licks his lips and pulls me to sit in his lap. I'm not that good at acting, but this is a scene I can play very well. I wrap my arms around him when we kiss, and we go from there. |
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6:42 PM Jul 11