Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
I’m very close to my grandfather, but I don’t think I can even begin to understand losing someone you love so completely. I believe I would be devastated too. I was too young to remember the loss of my mother, at least not entirely.
“This can’t be real,” Mayven murmurs beside me.
Deacon reaches to place a hand on her shoulder from the pew behind us. I lean into her ear to whisper. “Hang in there. Breathe.”
She exhales a deep breath and turns to peek over her shoulder. I think I know who she’s looking for. When Pit hands over his handkerchief and a sad smile comes to her lips, I know I’m right.
I’m not going to be the one to betray her crush, but I’m positive, at this point, that she has a thing for him. I wonder how she would feel if she knew he once threatened me over her. I shrug the thought off and turn to look down the row at Skittles’s family.
Her father looks like he’s warring between holding it together and losing it completely. I look past him and notice the chubby-faced girl next to him.
Her eyes are filled with tears and her face is wet. What draws my attention to her is how much she looks like a lighter-skinned, younger version of Skittles. Almost as if they could be sisters, if not twins.
“And now, the family will come up to pay their final respects and have their final viewing before we head over to the cemetery.”
With that announcement, our row stands. I can’t help wondering how Mayven is so small. Her entire family is pushing six feet and over. However, she’s the smallest in our row. The girl pops up and stands aside to wait for Skittles. I hang back, allowing the family to have their moment. Feeling awkward, I circle around the row to sit with the guys.
“Do you think she’s going to be all right?” Tak asks.
I shake my head. I don’t know. She has her moments. I look down into my palms.
I have my own shit going on, but I can still visit the few people I love and hug them. Reality hits. I need to go to Greece to see my grandfather. Maybe time with him will help me pull my head together.
I decide, in this moment, I’m going to head to Greece as soon as I know my friend will be okay. Skittles needs me now, but I’m not going to ignore the madness going on in my head. I need to fix my shit too.
I look up as Skittles and the girl hug. She towers over her. In the back of my mind, I note how gorgeous the women in this family are.
I shake my thoughts away. It’s not even my mom and this day seems like a blur of emotions and events. Trying to focus is challenging.
There’s no one for me to confront about this on Skittles’s behalf. I can’t make this go away for her. There’s no one to destroy, no favor to call in.
I’m really starting to hate this feeling-powerless shit.
Chapter 8
Not Ready
Kelex
Six months later…
I officially hate my life. I went from being a top-booked VIP model to having to beg for gigs that are headshots only. The clients who used to book me want more than my face.
That is, until they see my body. I tried. I truly did for about three months. Skittles, my new conscience, talked me into still going on shoots.
“See what they say. You’re still hot as fuck. If they don’t want you, then it’s their loss,” she’d said when I tried to avoid bookings.
When my agent called to encourage me to give it one more go, I gave it one last shot because I hated the look of pity on Skittles’s face. Apparently, the photographer wanted me. The company the ad is for had no idea of the angle he was going for with me and the shoot.
“This isn’t what we had in mind. He’s a gorgeous model, but those burns are going to be a turnoff—”
“This is why I’m the photographer you hired. I have the vision. You have the money. Yes?” the photographer interrupts.
“Too much money if you ask me. Especially for this. What happened to him? I was so excited when you told me who the model would be.”
“Clearly, he was burned. I believe he’s more beautiful than ever. A true work of art. He was too perfect before.”
“Hmm, to each their own. He’s not for our target market. Fashion models are hangers. He’s now a damaged hanger.”
Those are the words that send me into a rage. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss.
“Kelex—”
“Fuck you both and fuck this shoot.”
I end up tossing their entire fucking studio. I feel so hurt and out of control. After flipping shit over and destroying the set, I storm out—not caring about the fact my career is possibly officially over now.