I'm not myself.
I'm not the same person I was a year ago. I don't know if that's a good thing, or a bad thing. In my personal opinion, I like who I am right now. I'm a model, yeah, I'm emo, but im still a model. My hair is pitch black, its past my ribcage, my bangs cover my eyes, and its streaked with red and layered. I walk around in pumps with low-rise skinny jeans and halter tops. I like who I am. Although sometimes I miss who I was before.
But now, ive a got a half sun, half moon tattoo on my lower back, my belly button is pierced, along with my nose(don't worry its just a stud) and I have four piercings in each of my ears.
` In a way, I'm living my dream. I've always wanted to be either a model, or a singer. But I'm good with a model. I like it, plus, I have major stage freight. So not having to perform, much, is good., although I still love to sing.
Yes, I smoke, yes, I drink. But in the land of Hollywood, its hard not to do either. I was walking up the steps to my apartment in Franklin Towers.
I could hear the click of my heels against the linoleum. I nodded 'hi' to the receptionist and turned toward the elevator. The flooring here was carpet, so the sound of my heels was muffled. In the elevator, I began flipping through my magazine. Literally, mine. They named it after me. To the Max. My name wasn't really Max, it was Alexa, but I told everybody to call me Max.
I, this week at least, was on the cover. Just because it was named after me, doesn't mean I'm on the cover all the time. I especially liked this picture. I was in leather daisy duke shorts, midnight blue pumps, a midnight blue halter, but I had kept the streaks in my hair red. I was sitting with my back to the camera, but I had twisted around, my right hand grabbing my side, making my shirt ride up, exposing my tattoo, and my left hand had pushed my bangs up, so they looked messy. My nails were painted black, and my left leg was up, I was resting my left elbow on my left knee, and vice versa.
I'm not really conceited or anything, but I do admit that I looked pretty damn hot. It was just a plain white back round and the title was in blood red. The elevator dinged and I stepped out of the doors, walking to my room. Once inside, I tossed the magazine and my keys on the couch, walking straight into the kitchen, grabbing myself a pina colada. Pina coladas are my coffee, I can't go one day without having at least one.
I plopped on the couch with my drink in hand, grabbed the remote and began flipping through channels. It was Friday, at like, midnight, so nothing was really on, I settled on the football game. USC v. Colorado.
I felt a small sense of longing, even though I'm happy with the life I have, I always wondered what it would be like if I would've gone to college. USC has always been the college I wanted to go to. It's weird, when I was growing up, college had been set in my mind, I had never even given a thought about not going. But look at me now…
19 and a famous model.
I know I had disappointed my parents. Neither one of them had gone to college and I would've been the first in my family, that I know of at least. But no, I ended up in the glorious life of Hollywood.
Please, I thought.
Everyone, I know for a fact, has, at some point, wondered what would have been.
Okay, I know its really short, but I wrote this at like, 3 am, and just a little note, on the first few paragraphs, lately, ive wanted to do that, what you think?? Lol