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"Unfortunately, modeling takes you with no transition from being a girl to a business woman."

- Karolina Korkova

Little girls didn't get modeling.

They didn't get that it wasn't about being born beautiful. It wasn't about putting on make up, or about taking pictures. It's wasn't about partying like mad and waking up next to prince charming.

Modeling is about being a hanger.

Don't think for a second that it's about that girl in the picture. She'll be gone in a week, a month if she's lucky, and a year if she's there at the right time. But that dress, the one she's wearing, that dress will be remembered. It will be immortalized in the pages of Elle, Vogue, and Harpers Bazaar. Twenty years later some starlet will wear it the night she wins her first Oscar. That girl in the picture would be long forgotten.

People wondered why models were bitter.

Models wondered why they modeled at all.

-o-

It's been a sad month for women everywhere. Not a single sighting of basketball god Bishop Nequet! Seems like his break up with actress Tanya Fetters has shaken him up more than we thought. Or maybe he's found someone else to keep him warm at night . . .

-o-

I sighed as I walked down the street to my apartment, and wrapped my arms around myself. Try as I might I couldn't fight off the hollow feeling that occupied my body after a photo shoot. Something was missing and had been for a long time.

My mother would have told me that the camera was stealing my soul. I almost smiled at the memory.

I barely glanced at the lifeless rooms of my home as I stepped inside. I stayed far away from all the mirrors as I changed. I knew all my faults and didn't need to be reminded of them. As I looked out my window I couldn't help but feel sad. The city I had once loved I could no longer stand.

New York had granted all my dreams, but lately those dreams had turned sour.

I came to the city when I was sixteen, stars in my eyes chasing after my dream of becoming a model. My mom and I lived in an old run down apartment, struggling to make ends meet, for a year before my big break came. I had booked an editorial spread in the September issue of Vogue. Our prayers had been answered.

The shoot had been everything I had dreamed of. Glorious gowns, fabulous accessories, great hair, and makeup. And for the first time in a year no one mentioned my shortcomings. How at five ten I was an inch shorter than the current supermodels, my imperfect teeth, or how my upturned eyes looked misplaced among my jutting cheekbones, fat lips and razor sharp jaw. For the first time in a year I didn't feel imperfect.

After the magazine hit the stands jobs started to roll in steadily. I upgraded my agency and booked almost all the major shows during fashion week. Just like that the little girl from Michigan had been transformed in the fashion world's latest it girl.

The sunshine and rainbows didn't last long, just like every other dream modeling came with a sacrifice. I was forced to go from seventeen to thirty five in the span of a week. The fashion world didn't care that I was still a little girl, that I hadn't even graduated from high school or that I had never been kissed. All they saw was a lucrative product, quick cash.

Within a matter of a month my innocence disappeared, optimism disintegrated, and my hope became lost along with my virginity.

Photo shoots became tiresome, an occasion on which my flaws were brought to the forefront of my mind. I became bitter and angry, that girl in the mirror was only a shadow of her fresh faced self.

Now a month short of twenty years old I would do anything to leave the industry. The problem was I had nothing to go back to. My family and I had fallen out a year and a half ago, still bothered by it I hadn't made an effort to repair the ties that were broken. I couldn't get a job since I had no education beyond high school, something I was still kicking myself for.

Something had to give.

I wasn't sure if I could make it out of this unmarked.

-o-

The question on everyone's mind, where is supermodel Devi Aurora? The current Sports Illustrated covergirl was absent from the runways during fashion week, and hasn't graced the pages of Vogue since the June issue. Could fashion's favorite it girl be down for the count?

-o-

Bishop gazed cooly across the desk at his mother. While he loved her with all his heart he couldn't help but feel that she was pushing things a bit to far this time.

"I don't need any help mother." He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Well I would beg to differ Dear." She pushed a stack of tabloids towards him. "According to these you have a problem."

Bishop ignored her. He already knew what all the magazines were saying, that he was a cheating bastard, an abusive boyfriend, and his personal favorite an adulterous manwhore.

"The right girl could really turn things around for you." His mother sighed, rubbing her temples. "These are my top choices." She handed him another set of magazines, each one marked with pictures of various girls. "Take your pick and get back to me tomorrow."

She kissed him quickly on the forehead and left before he had a chance to respond. He sat there stunned for a moment, he even considered rebelling but knew his efforts would have futile.

He should have been used to it by now. His mother always got what she wanted.

-o-

Spotted. Bishop Nequet and fellow teammates Sam Molino, and Trey Keating having a guys night out at Sterling's Bar and Grille. How's the basketball phenom faring since his break up? "He's doing good." An insider tells us. "Just taking some time for himself right now." Really? No new girlfriend? We must admit we're a bit disappointed. Surely our boy has set his sights on someone by now.

-o-

I hated go sees.

My manager Barry knew this, but could care less. He believed that I needed to work on my networking skills if I planned to become the next Linda Evangelista. After all that he had done for me I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was through with modeling.

That suddenly taking pictures and getting dolled up daily wasn't enough for me anymore. And the onslaught of prettier, taller and skinnier models was killing the fire inside of me. The revolving door of girls was leaving me drained and bitter as coffee grinds.

But I couldn't, because Barry had believed in me when all others had doubted. He had made sure that I was in the right place at the right time, he was a good reason why I had the luxury of picking and choosing my jobs. So despite how much I loathed go sees I would do this for him. Because he was the only family I had left.

I called Barry as soon as the go see finished. Never one for pleasantries he jumped down my throat as soon as he picked up the phone.

"How'd it go?"

"Ok." I replied wearily. "I think I've got the campaign as long as they weren't to impressed with the tall Russian girl that was in front of me."

"Shit." Barry sighed. "Are you talking about that girl who opened for Versace?"

"Unfortunately." I crushed the urge to buy a pack of cigarettes as I passed a magazine stand. "She's got legs as long as the golden gate bridge."

"Damn Russians." Barry muttered. "It's a fucking American design studio you'd think they'd want to book an American."

At this I laughed. I looked anything but American, too ethnic was what I got when I met designers. Many of them were too stupid to realize that I had been born and bred in the U.S of A.

And they called models hangers. At least we could get our geography right.

"Well I'll keep looking for you Devi." Barry groaned. I could picture the frustration on his face. "Come by the office tomorrow morning ok? And wear something nice."

"Will do." I replied before hanging up the phone.

I headed towards the ice cream stand. If I couldn't smoke I would at least get some sugar.

-o-

Apparently our favorite goddess (Devi) is on the fritz with her agency. Is this the beginning of the end? Is our golden girl's reign over?

-o-

Bishop handed over his choice to his mother the next day at lunch. He had made the choice with his brother over drinks. She was the only girl that looked just as miserable as he was. Maybe they would have more in common than he thought.

"I thought you would choose her." Mrs. Nequet sighed disappointedly. "Which is why I took the liberty of choosing for you." She passed him a slim black folder. "Say hello to your new girlfriend"

Bishop wished he could admit to being surprised by his mother's antics, but he had expected something of sorts all along. He knew better than to resist and opened up the folder.

Inside was a picture of a smiling girl with a racially ambiguous face. Between the slant of her eyes and cheekbones, and in combination with her full lips, he spent a good minute looking at her face trying to figure out where she was from. He came up with nothing, and quickly looked through the rest of her portfolio. She would do, he decided as he set the folder back down on the table.

"Excellent choice mother."

"I know Dear." Mrs. Nequet replied offhandedly, slipping back into business mode. "You will meet her in two weeks once I have everything arranged." She peered up over her glasses at her son. "Is that clear."

"Crystal." He smiled, hoping it would cover up his grimace.

-o-

Looks like the only girl in Bishop Nequet's life these days is his new puppy. While she is adorable we have to wonder why our party boy went cold turkey. Maybe there's more to this break up than we thought . . .

-o-

Barry looked disgruntled as I walked into his office the next morning. I immediately handed him his cup of coffee before sitting down.

"What's up?" I asked as I contorted my body to fit comfortably in the chair. "Why did you call me in?"

"We need to talk about your career Devi." Barry rubbed his face tiredly. "I know you aren't particularly interested in modeling anymore, and if that is truly the case then we need to act now, before the opportunity I have lined up for you passes by."

"Wait, back up." I shook my head and tried to contain the joy that I was feeling. There was a way out, thank god. "You found a way for me to get out of this?"

Barry nodded gravely. "Yes, but it's not without a price."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"I'm sure you're aware of who Bishop Nequet is. Am I correct?"

I nodded. Everyone who had access to modern day technology knew who Bishop was. Three years ago, following in his older brother's footsteps, he had been recruited as the number one draft pick to the NBA. Sports Illustrated had declared him the next Lebron James, this generation's Larry Bird. He was supposed to save the NBA's crumbling image, be the golden boy to pull them out of their slump.

Fate had something else in store.

Bishop became was known for his temperamental antics on the court. He led the league in technical fouls, and caused a number of brawls within the past two years. He had been traded five times in his short career. The only thing keeping him afloat was his endless amount of talent. Every once and a while that boy that had been promised to the NBA would show up, scoring fifty plus points and posting a triple double.

While the NBA had wanted him to be the next Kobe Bryant, Bishop became more of a Rasheed Wallace. Shying away from the responsibility at whatever chance he got.

Despite the amount of drama that surrounded him on the court, it didn't even begin to compare to his life off it. He was a known partier, pictures in tabloids showing him club hopping the night before a big game. And while it had gotten him kicked off his first two teams it seemed that management turned a blind eye towards his antics now.

The media of course loved him. It had been ages since they had had a bad boy athlete to cover in the press, and the storm around Bishop began to brew even more once he started to date Hollywood bad girl Tanya Fetters. The couple's public spats made daily national headlines and became a fixation of the media. It came to a climax this past summer when they had broken up. Tanya claiming that Bishop had emotionally and physically abused her.

I was both disgusted and amused by the whole situation.

"I recently spoke to Bishop's mother, who acts as his manager, and she has proposed an idea that I believe will work for your situation."

"Stop beating around the bush Barry and just spit it out." I snapped.

He sent me a cold glare before continuing. "Bishop is in need of a girlfriend. One that will help restore his public image."

It took a minute before I caught on. "And she wants me to fill in?"

Barry nodded.

"You're shitting me? Right?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No Dev, I'm not. Mrs. Nequet should be here any second to explain everything to you."

As if on cue someone knocked on Barry's door. Before either him or I could answer the door opened to reveal a statuesque blond woman.

"Sorry I'm late." She directed at Barry. "Who knew it would be so hard to find a Taxi at the airport." She sat down and sent a brief glance at me. "Are we ready to get started?"

"Yes." Barry replied, speaking for the both of us.

"Right then." The woman turned on me and grasped my hand in a firm handshake. "You must be Devi." Her eyes roamed over me. "You're exactly what I ordered."

The woman, whom I assumed was Bishop's mother, made me slightly uncomfortable. It had something to do with how she looked at me. As if she was examining a prized racehorse for any flaws, checking to see if there was anything wrong with her purchase."

"Who are you?" I asked once I found my voice.

"Oh Barry!" The woman laughed, the sound was high and tinkling. "You didn't mention what a firecracker this one was. I definitely have to have her now. She's absolutely perfect." She sent me a broad smile. "I'm Bishop's mother, Nancy. Your future employer if everything goes smoothly today." She turned to Barry. "I assume you've explained everything to her already."

"I was getting to it." Barry replied sending her a tight smile. "But I'll let you continue where I left off."

"Great!" She smiled before turning to me. "I'm sure you've heard about my son's recent break up with Miss Fetters."

I nodded and waited for her to continue.

"As you know the whole affair has tarnished his once spotless reputation." I watched her face with great interest as she spoke. Noting how it contorted slightly and her voice filled with ice as she talked about her son's former girlfriend.

I wanted to snort. Bishop Nequet had anything but a spotless reputation. The boy had been a notorious partier since he was drafted. Still, Nancy had a point, while dating Hollywood bad girl Tanya Fetters his public image had taken even more of a beating. Bishop had been laying low ever since. Where as Tanya was soaking up as much attention as she could get.

Her voice snapped me back to attention. "And although Bishop doesn't need a girlfriend I believe that it would help his image if he did."

"You want me to pretend to be his girlfriend?" I asked bluntly.

"Precisely." Nancy beamed.

I sent her a cool look. "Why?"

"This way Bishop can concentrate on his game, rebuild his reputation, and not have to worry about the press going after someone he cares about." She replied breezily. "We'll pay you of course. All you two will really have to do is pretend to like each other, and even then it will just be while you're out. Let the paparazzi get their shot, and then your work will be done."

"And how does this get me out of modeling?" I asked. Curious to know how she and Barry had solved my small dilemma.

"Bishop stays in Denver for the regular season, and as a supportive girlfriend you'll be expected to be there for all of his games." She answered seeming to anticipate my question. "You'll be too far away for any serious jobs. You won't have to worry about work because we'll be paying you, and all your accommodations will be provided for."

"And how long will this. . " I paused trying to think of an appropriate term. "agreement last?"

"Just one year." Nancy replied with a smile.

One year was too long. I couldn't imagine giving up one year of my life for someone I didn't know. Sure the job was appealing. All I would really have to do is babysit an attractive A-lister and pretend to like him. More importantly I would get the freedom from modeling that I had been longing for. As if sensing my hesitation Nancy spoke up.

"We'll pay you three million dollars for the whole year."

Three. Million. Dollars. I had to hold onto the base of my seat to stop myself from collapsing in shock. Nancy smiled at me, knowing that she had won me over.

"And an extra million if you can restore Bishop's reputation." She stated out of courtesy. We both knew I would except the deal easily now.

"When do I start?" I asked, sending her a smile that had gotten me a Crest toothpaste add.

-o-

Spotted! A very glammed up Devi Aurora exiting hot spot Tonic minutes after Bishop Nequet. Do we sense a new couple in the making?

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