cameras clicked, flashes came from different directions, with noises erupting from every angle, but Andrea wasn't fazed at all.
She was made for this, for the camera, for the glam. This was where she thrived, this was where she shone her brightest.
Large cheers came alive when her silver heels touched the surface of the thick red carpet, but despite her unfaltering smile, she knew this wasn't the right amount.
Sponsors were less than half, the reporters weren't top in the country, her dress wasn't from a big designer. She felt her world having cracks, but she wasn't one to wear her problems on her face, so she walked, swaying her hips while her hand rested on her sparkling dress that hugged her figure, while putting on a bright smile on her face.
She walked graciously, her manager trailing behind. The feeling of everyone eyes on her boosted her confidence somehow, but that was only a supporting piece.
Her biggest flex? The fact that her face had appeared on numerous top magazines, her agency being called for worldwide shows, all saying her name, Andrea Wilcox.
As she walked off the red carpet, still smiling, her manager gently pulled her aside from the chaos, his brown eyes darting around, as if to speak a secret.
"You know this might be the last show we'd be able to cover. The plan was to actualize a lot of money, but the bitter truth is that, sponsors are pulling out, and the company is bleeding money".
Andrea felt her world beginning to slip from her fingers, as her mind raced. This was all she had, this was all she dreamed of and invested in.
She prayed for it to be a dream, but she knew better than to live in delusions.
Her manager studied her blank expression, and he immediately felt horrible for the young model. He remembered scouting her, promising her things of the big shot companies–long term contracts, huge shows, but now, it was all coming down.
Finished. The word clung to her like a shadow. Modeling was all she had. All she knew. Without it, who was Andrea Wilcox?
She forced another dazzling smile for the waiting press, but her stomach churned. She couldn't afford to slip. Not now.
And then she saw him.
Tall, dark-suited, standing apart from the crowd, Kayden West's gaze was cool and unreadable as he watched the chaos unfold. Billionaire. Untouchable. The kind of man who didn't need the spotlight—he owned it. Andrea's heart stuttered before she caught herself. She had no business staring. But still, she couldn't look away.
Her eyes studied the stoic expressed man, dressed in the glories of three piece black suit, and his brown hair combed back.
Kayden feeling eyes on him turned to see who was intently staring at him, although he knew he had gathered attention of people, who he knew wouldn't have the courage to look at him longer than a second.
Andrea's eyes widened in shock as she stared back at the blue eyed man from nearly ten feet away. Heat rushed to her cheeks as the thought of being caught staring, sounded embarrassing to her, but still she held his gaze.
"Come on, they are waiting" She nodded, her eyes still hooked on the sculptured face from across the room, her manager's voice like a background noise.
When he had finally turned away from her, following another handsome figure away into the crowd, after sparing her a glance, she headed inside, her heart walking with the man she had just ten seconds with.
After series of questions from the press, who were still oblivious to the crisis her agency faced, she was blessed with the situation of leaving.
Enveloped by the silence and sweet leather of her car, Andrea's mind wondered to everything that happened in just six hours of the night. From her manager's words, to the uncertainty her life held, but in all this, her mind was still hooked on Kayden West.
"You know, Marcus, this wasn't the deal you promised me" Andrea had tried to be understanding and calm, but she was about to lose almost everything she had dreamed of, and it was all because of the stupid deal she was convinced to sign two and half years ago.
"It isn't the company's fault. We were trying to expand, trying to sign other potential models, not just you" Her manager defended, trying to sound reasonable, but to Andrea, he sounded greedy, and now she's thinking back, that's how he always sounded.
But maybe, her self obsession with being a star, being famous, blinded her senses, and now she's about to lose it all.
"Trying to sign new models? I'm fucking under paid here, and you try to sign new authors? Fucking wonderful" She couldn't hide her anger anymore. Her heart raced with one particular question she didn't have any answer to–
Who really was Andrea Wilcox?
"Well, it was a deal gone bad, and from the look of things, I'm not sure we're going to last till the end of the year" Marcus shrugged, sounding unbothered, which only increased the volcano erupting with Andrea.
"What?! I have deals with brands, international deals!" She couldn't believe this was happening, and fast. She thought she had at least till the end of the year before she was going to announce her fallout from stardom, but it was coming sooner than expected.
"Well…they are not all expenses covered deals, so we have to cancel" Andrea scoffed, as she felt her chest tighten. She was utterly shocked, so shocked that she was speechless, so without another word, she alighted the car, going into her apartment complex.
She slumped on her bed, still dressed in her red carpet outfit. Her head under tremendously but worse of all, was her heart wasn't at peace.
She sat up straight, looking around her apartment. So she was going to lose all this? After all she did to reach this point?
Truly life was a bitch, but Andrea wasn't one to sulk. She was one to get drunk and deal with the problem later.
And that's what she did. She moved out of her dress, and painfully high heels, scanning through her closet of expensive clothes that were given to her after shoots, either as gift or just as endorsements.
She finally settled on a cargo skirt and crop tops, and her favorite high boots. Parking her hair into a messy bun, and spritzing some perfume, she waltzed out of her apartment.
The club was filled with sweaty people rubbing off each other, loud music that threatened to shatter the eardrums of people around, but this was where Andrea relieved her stress, with alcohol and the right amount of handsome faces.
She sat at the bar, her skirt going up past the middle of her thigh, which garnered nasty looks from men–looks that didn't bother her one bit, as she sipped on her dirty tequila.
Shots after shots, and the voice of her manager, the ugly reality that awaited, all becoming a blur. Andrea was happy in the oblivion that the alcohol gave her, the temporary release which she badly craved, handed to her freely.
"Another shot" Her eyes were unsteady, images were hardly seen, but she wanted to pass out, and since she still saw people, she needed more.
"Are you planning on being a human bank for dirty tequila?" The rim of the glass rested just at the tip of her lips, her brain seemingly sober.
The voice sounded like it belonged to a handsome guy, a miss from Andrea's alcohol and handsome face remedy. She had alcohol, and now she was blessed with a….sex on legs? No, sex in audio man.
She dropped her glass and drunkenly turned her head to see who her god was. Her eyes met the familiar blue one, and a well recognized heat rushed to her cheeks, as she let out a hiccup.
"Kayden…Kayden West?"