No one knows how much helpless I always felt behind my glamour.
I am currently one of the hottest models in the entertainment industry. I am beautiful, and I have tens of millions of fans on my facebook, but all this seems to be meaningless in the eyes of my husband.
"Perfect!" While I was lost in thought between commercial shoots, my manager, Azy's voice brought me back to reality.
I straightened my back, put on a professional and confident smile, and soon the shoot was completed without incident.
"Oh my gosh! You're really a definition of perfection, Jazzie," Azy came over to me, as usual, he always compliments me generously, using all the nice words on me.
I smiled and didn't respond to him. I just wanted to pack up and go home now.
Before the shooting, my husband sent me a message saying that his assistant was coming to pick me up. I didn't dare to make any delays, I was afraid he would be unhappy with my lateness. Yes, even though we have been married for three years, I still live a careful life. I tried hard to please him and win his heart.
But every day in the next room, I could hear the sound of his lovemaking with another woman, then I knew that I was doing everything in vain. But what should I do since I still love him? Love can be blind, and as long as he is still around me, nothing else matters.
I walked towards the dressing room and tiredly sat in front of a vanity mirror, my three PAs immediately approached me to put some retouch powder here, lipstick there, a typical scene for me as a model.
"Gorgeous, sexy, rich and other traits that are truly admired by most of the men," he continued while still pointing at my whole being.
I rolled my eyes at him on the mirror and let out a deep breath. Yeah, most of the men except for my husband. "Stop it, Azy. You knew how much I hate it," I uttered, talking about the compliments he gave.
He rolled his eyes at me and flipped his imaginary long hair. "My God! Jazzie. I don't know if you're just being humble or you hate the truth. Alas! If I had that face and body, I wouldn't just do that on the catwalk, but also in the kitchen, living room or even in the restroom," he said and giggled with laughter at last.
"You're pure nonsense, Azy Angelo," I muttered.
Quickly, his face changed then. "Oh my gosh! My ear, oh my gosh!" he acted while covering his ear with his finger.
I laughed sparingly and then picked up my phone that was currently ringing over the vanity mirror.
My face became emotionless when I saw the name on the screen. I lazily swiped up the answer button and put the phone to my ear.
"Are you done?" a cold baritone voice spoke on the line.
"Yeah," I simply answered and signaled my PAs to stop.
They moved away from me and let me sort my things out on my own.
"Jaime's already at the gate," he said and then the line ended.
Without a single word showing his concern, I took a deep breath and hid my phone in my bag. It's always been like this, hasn't it, Jazzie? You should have gotten used to it a long time ago, shouldn't you?
"Do I have a schedule this week?" I asked and looked at Azy in the mirror.
He pouted. "You actually have a project in Paris, but obviously, it seems like you don't want to receive an international photo shoot," he sounded sulky and displeased.
It's not that I don't like it. I was just worried that once I was out of my husband's sight, he would soon forget about me. Perhaps, you may say I love him so humbly, and actually I also tried to find a way to avoid such love, but when his face appears, I can endure all the grievance.
"You have so many offers abroad but you don't want to accept any of them. You are losing so much opportunity, Jazzie," he reminded me.
I forced a smile and zipped up my bag. I walked toward her then gently touched her shoulder.
"I'm really fine here in the Philippines, Azy."
He stared at me and then heaved a sigh. "If that's your decision, I can't do anything else. Your schedule this week is vacant as you requested," he said.
I grimaced again and thanked before finally saying goodbye. Five body guards immediately surrounded me as soon as I exited the building, I was in. A few more cameras flashed instantly as I walked towards the car that had sent by the person I was talking earlier.
I was so shocked when I saw an unexpected person inside the car as I got myself in the back seat. I cleared my throat and composed myself while leaning against the seat.
"You really like cameras, huh?" the man beside me spoke.
I avoided rolling my eyes and just looked out of the window where I could see the three paparazzi who had been watching me earlier. Apparently, they can’t see us now because the car window was tinted.
"I'm a model, Valjerome. It's natural," I reasoned out.
As if you didn't know how much I wanted to be a model since then.
You just forget.
He did not say a word and signaled the driver to start driving. I could feel him leaning back in his seat. I didn't bother to look back at him because I gradually felt tired after two hours of facing the camera earlier.
I was about to close my eyes and took some rest when he spoke again.
"You've got an offer in Paris?" he asked coldly.
I sighed and then he idly turned around, he immediately met my eyes.
I no longer wonder how he found out. Knowing him and his connections, nothing is really surprising. I would be even more surprised if he knew nothing about the offers that were given to me.
"Don't worry, I turned down the offer," I replied bitterly.
"Good," he simply said and went back to his position.
I just shook my head and continued what I was about to do earlier take a nap.
"Just stay here, you're not leaving. You're not going away," I heard him whispered before I drifted into oblivion.