There were many opportunities given to a person in life. When going to school, I'm given the opportunity to work hard and be anything I wanted to be in life. A world—class surgeon, a well—known movie director, a lawyer, or, even something more along the fine arts section. I made the risky decision of modelling. I took the opportunity with modelling that could either sore in life or give the career of rich or fame or it couldn't go more than a local commercial. My name's Clover Thompson, but to the world, I'm Lucky.
My mother named me after a four—leaf clover she found while walking inside. Apparently, when she bent down to pick it up it was in that exact moment her water broke. As she was giving birth she held onto the small green clover and when the time came and I popped out, she decided to share the name with me, naming me Clover Thompson. Thompson, being our family name of course. I got the name Lucky when my career went sky rocketing up after my first magazine appearance. It wasn't something that happened at such a young age which is why they called me Lucky, plus a four—leaf clover is supposed to be lucky. Either way, the name has stuck ever since.
And, speaking of my mother, she wasn't my biggest fan, but I was grateful for the fact that she was the one who started me in the modeling business when I was two years old.
Yes, in case you were wondering, you can find pictures of me today in your local Babies R Us catalog.
Now, I know I'm being a little nonchalant about this whole model business thing but it's because I've done this whole thing for sixteen years all starting in this exact city in Long Beach, California. That is why it didn't take long for me to become Victoria's Secret's number one angel.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I jumped in my chair as my rather annoying alarm went off for the billionth time. Yeah, I'm not what you would call a morning person. I set, at the least, ten alarms a morning because I have a bad habit of sleeping through them like a groundhog sleeps through winter.
Nah, I don't think I'm that bad.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Okay, maybe I'm just a little bad.
But in my defense, I'm technically still a teenager. We like our sleep but today was one of my better days. It's two months into school, so at this point I'm used to the five—thirty wake—up call.
I turned off the rest of my alarms and continued with my usual morning routine. I made sure my fake, latex nose piece that I added on only for school was perfectly on my face before I started French braiding my blond, slightly shower—wet hair to the back. Once the two braids were done, I twisted them together and pinned them up into a bun, a special trick my stylist taught me a few years ago. I put on a new wig cap, slightly wincing at the tightness of it since it's never been worn. After a minute of getting used to the feeling, I added on a long brown messy wig.
I guess I should explain that my life as a model isn't your most typical lifestyle. One of the perks of being the number one Victoria's Secret's Model is that everyone would kill to have you model for them as well as pay you quite a bit for just one photo shoot. One of the downsides, is that your life isn't exactly normal. I was followed from time to time. The paparazzi thoroughly enjoyed trying to find some story that could ruin my perfect image.
They never succeeded though.
Why? Well, simply because they didn't see me outside of my model life. In school, I'm known as Clover Thompson, my legal name. My modeling name is Lucky. It was an easy thing, really, since the world didn't know me by anything else besides Lucky. Now, how does the whole thing work? Outside of school, I dress normally and go on with my life as I usually do. In school, I dress down and change my appearance completely, hence the fake nose.
I know it's a strange thing, going undercover in high school. Who would want to go to school? Well, when you live your life with private tutors, it kind of sucks. That's why I decided to start the undercover in high school thing as soon as I was old enough to attend. It probably all seemed like a lonely life, but I had my best friend, Tori. She's just like me, a model who attends high school, but since she's new to Victoria's Secret, she doesn't get much recognition in school.
I glanced at the clock and knew it was time to start picking up the pace a bit. I stood up from my chair in front of my vanity mirror and went over to my closet. I opened the white doors and stepped into the humongous closet filled with tons of outfits. I walked into the back where my school clothes were located and slipped on a plain, olive—colored t—shirt over my embroidered, black bra and then a warm, oversized hoodie. I then slid on a pair of flared jeans that fit perfectly, completely covering my black lace panties before I pulled on a pair of ankle socks and some Converse to finish off my outfit.
Ding.
I glanced at my iPhone that laid on my vanity, plugged into the charger. I slid my finger across the phone, quickly putting in the passcode and easily unlocking it before going to the messages.
Hey, babe. I'm coming up, Tori had texted and I smiled. Tori was the only one I trusted everything with, from my secret to the key to my house. She was one of those friends you could trust with your life if it came down to a life or death situation. She was like the sister I didn't get the opportunity to grow up with.
Like the one I could only imagine since she was gone too soon.
Besides that, Tori and I were extremely close and found it easier to take turns driving to school every day. The car I usually use for school is an old, beige—colored Cavalier but the one I prefer to use outside of school is my black Audi R8 coupe. In other words, my life. That car is the one thing I couldn't live without.
Tori lightly tapped on the door before coming in. "Hey, you almost ready?" She handed me my usual drink from Starbucks, a caramel espresso grande. Heaven in a cup.
"Yeah, I just need to remember where I put my glasses yesterday," I said, moving my makeup around on my dresser and opening drawers as I tried to find the square frames.
"You truly show that you're a natural blonde," Tori said, chuckling as she handed me the glasses.
I scowled. "Where'd you find them?"
She rolled her eyes at me. "You left them on the kitchen table."
I sent her a sheepish smile. Of course, I did. Ha, I totally knew that.
Well, I would've known that... eventually.
I slid on the fake glasses and gave myself a quick look in my full body mirror on the wall. "Sexy as ever." I winked and Tori snorted.
"Yeah, the boys will truly be drooling," she said dryly before ushering me out of my room. We headed down the stairs to the living room where I grabbed my gray and black book bag off the plush, white couch.
"You know, I'm starting to think you have some secret boyfriend or something. No teenager on earth is as wide awake as you and in such a hurry to go to school. I mean, it's six—thirty in the morning," I said, dragging my feet behind her as we exited the house, locking the door behind us.
I didn't bother to yell a goodbye, since the house was empty. My parents weren't around very often. I know what you're thinking, wow, another teenager with some oh—so—sad life with parents who weren't around and didn't care. But my life wasn't like that. I mean, sure, my dad didn't care much, but my mother definitely cared when it came to my career. They were both busy—my mom with her fashion companies all around the world and my dad with his full—time job as a surgeon. Trust me, though, it wasn't as bad as it seemed. I mean, I'm used to it.
"You know, life would be good if I had a boyfriend to take me to school. Then I wouldn't have to constantly nag you on not taking forever," she said.
"Please, you truly love me," I said, as we got into Tori's silver jeep, being careful not to spill our drinks on the leather seats. She glanced at her phone, sending a quick text before starting up the car.
I sighed dramatically. "C'mon, Tori. Hurry up and drive before we're late. We don't want to ruin my perfect attendance record, and we don't want your boyfriend to think you got in an accident or something," I said teasingly.
She snorted. "You know I don't have a boyfriend," she chided for the billionth time as she finally pulled out of the driveway and started the not—too—long drive to school.
"You will as soon as next week's catalogue comes out," I said, sending her a wink.
Instead of responding, she turned up the music, letting the top song of the week blast through the speakers.
"I absolutely love Drake," I said with a dreamy sigh. "I can't wait till we go see him in concert next fall," I said, lightly tapping my fingers on my jeans to the beat.
"Yeah, I still can't believe we won tickets to that," Tori said, with an excited grin.
"I know!" I exclaimed matching her excitement.
"I would literally give that man my life savings for a hug." She sighed dreamily.
I couldn't help but chuckle.
That's how I feel about Zayn Malik.
