The Heart Does Go On

Coming back from spring break felt like going back into reality. Spring break was a good escape from everything school related. Although I had a lot of homework (which I did except for English…oops) the pressure was off. I didn’t have to worry about studying for tests or completing any assignments.

Now, I had 2 tests next week, and a lot of homework and assignments to do daily. Dammit!

Not only that, but the end of year exams were only 3 months away. This meant that teachers were beginning to stress out to the students, which was in return stressing out the students.

Spring break got me away from all that and was truly a vacation. Now the other end of the tunnel was after high school was over, and it seemed too far away.

It was nice to catch up with my friends though, considering the majority of my holidays was spent working with Seto at Kaiba Corp.

***

I was working with Seto in his office, when Emma announced over the intercom that Seto had a strange call, regarding me. He growled and picked up his phone, obviously not being in the mood to take a random call towards the end of the day.

He put the phone on loudspeaker so I’d be able to hear; after all it was a call about me.

“Hi, Mr. Kaiba. My name is Mike Reynolds and I’m the editor for CPD, a men’s magazine.” The caller stated.

Seto immediately let an even louder growl out, but I was unsure why.

“We ran a poll in our magazine last month about which famous person’s non famous girlfriend the readers would like to see in a bikini shoot, and as you can tell by my call the readers want your girlfriend, Ella.” This Mike guy said, sounding very confident.

I gave a look of horror to Seto, I was only just recently okay with wearing a bikini out in public, there was NO WAY I was going to wear a bikini for a photo shoot for a men’s magazine.

Besides, even though it wasn’t technically a nude photo, those sorts of photos can still come back and haunt you. Especially for the business career which I wanted to enter after high school.

“I see, and what will your readers do if Miss Campbell were to decline?” Seto snickered, playing with his prey.

“I’m very sure Miss Campbell will not decline our offer. She may choose any clothing she would like and feels comfortable in, to make sure the photo shoot builds up her reputation and image in the public eye, instead of damaging it. She’ll also be compensated very generously.” Mike said, still sounding confident.

“As much as I hate that my intelligent and respectful girlfriend will not be appearing half naked in a men’s magazine for other men to gawk at, I must inform you that my girlfriend already is contracted to model for another entity, and it would go against her contract to do so.” Seto said sarcastically.

What’s he on about? I’m no model; I guess it’s just to get this guy to leave me alone. No one will touch me with a ten-foot pole now they know legal issues come into this.

“Who is she with? We can contact them and buy her contract” Mike asked, not ready to give this up.

“Mr. Reynolds that’s classified information.” Seto snapped, and hung up the phone.

He then turned to me, a big grin on his face.

“Seems like you’re wanted by the people, Miss Campbell.” Seto said playfully towards me.

I just sent a weak smile back at him.

However, Seto went to his intercom and told Emma to send in the current project manager from marketing.

Oh dear, if he’s planning what I think he’s planning then this will not end well.

***

I can’t believe I agreed to this!

Here I was, standing in Kaiba Land on a Friday afternoon after school, with it completely shut, ready to ‘model’ for a new advertising campaign.

I was absolutely FREEZING! My hair and make-up had been all done up, and all I was wearing was a halter-neck blue sundress, that came down to my knees. Even though it was spring, it was still cold!

I had to have a little chuckle to myself though. I never thought I’d be a model. Even after I lost all my childhood weight, I wasn’t a size 0.

I was glad I was only working for Seto, and it was (most likely) only a one-off thing. Back in L.A. I had a few models as friends, who did work for big employers such as Calvin Klein and Tiffany and Co. Whilst they did have a lot of glamour in their lives (such as getting to keep expensive clothing/items, jet setting around the world, going to top events and just every other perk a model gets) the bad stereotypes also existed.

The girls I knew that were models were fairly unintelligent; who you couldn’t hold a proper conversation with. They couldn’t discuss politics, or anything else going on around them. To add to this, they were all forced to drop out of school due to conflicts with shoots and school as well as schoolwork. Not only that, but they had to actually stay thin. One of my friends in particular was a stick insect, probably a US size 2. However her manager always picked on her, and told her to lose weight or she wouldn’t get work. So my friend always starved herself, and when she wasn’t starving herself she’d only eat rice cakes and drink water. Bad stuff…

So I’m glad this was just going to be a one-time thing, and not my career choice.

“Okay Ella, to begin with I want you to go over to the merry-go-round ride. Jump on one of the duel monsters, preferably a blue eyes white dragon.” The professional photographer said.

Seto was watching intently. He insisted on abandoning Kaiba Corp in order to supervise this event. He said as a paying customer he wanted to supervise to get what he paid for, but I could tell he also wanted to supervise so that I wouldn’t have to do anything I wouldn’t feel comfortable with, or to be more precise he didn’t want the photographer to take any photos of me that could be used against either of us.

I hopped onto the merry-go-round, and did as the photographer asked. Just before the photographer asked me to pose, Seto spoke up.

“I don’t think that’s a very good pose, her sitting on the ride like that. Her dress is riding up, and you might be able to see her panties!” Seto piped up.

I had to roll my eyes. This was going to be a long photo shoot.