CHAPTER 36

~A furious mind is the primal source of regrets~

~Mina.

SERAPHINA'S POV

"Baby you might need a seatbelt when I'm riding;

Imma leave it open like a door come inside it;

Even though I'm wifey you can hit it like a side chick".

I groaned and flung my arm to the right, tossing the ringing phone to the floor. The aggravating device won't let me sleep. I felt about the ground for the phone and picked it up, swiping the receive tag.

"What." I snapped into the receiver. Not a delectable morning greeting but whatever. I'm not a morning person either.

"Hello to you too. Naomi Campbell is three minutes from the studio." Peyton informed before the line went dead.

oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. The Naomi Campbell will be conducting my interview and I'm yet to even shower. Well done girl. Now, where do I start?

I jumped off the bed, but my feet tangled in the sheets, sending me butt planting on the mat. With a hand pressed on my sore glutes, I dashed to the bathroom and took a quick shower before rampaging my closet. Not having enough time to choose a perfect outfit, I randomly threw on a double-layered, high waisted pencil bodycon cotton long skirt and a pair of white toe-out heels.

I hopped into my freshly painted white hybrid and leapt onto the road. My phone abruptly vibrated on my lap, startling me. I checked the caller's ID and cursed when Peyton's name popped up.

"Give me a break, I'm stuck in private."

"Can't you take a shortcut? Naomi is here."  Damn it.

"I can't, there's a blockage."

"Whatever. Get me a doughnut when coming."

"I'll get you an assnut." I hung up and squeezed my way in between cars until I leapt onto an expressway. Freedom at last. I accelerated to the maximum speed and pulled up to the grand storey in seconds. I took the emergency stairs two at a go seeing as the elevator was packed and wouldn't be reaching the last floor anytime soon. I briefly waved at Susan and strode to my mom's office, not bothering to knock before barging inside.

"What in the name of Nazareth?" She hissed.

"Sorry for the tardiness, I.. I...the." I tried explaining but it only came out in short breaths. Mom cocked her head to the side and looked from me to Peyton in confusion. Peyton bit her lips and looked away.

"Tardy for what?" Mom raised a perfectly waxed brow. I blinked several times and moved closer, hoping I heard right.

"Isn't Naomi Campbell my guide?"

"Yes, but she wouldn't be here until after two hours. Her flight is yet to land."

"But Peyton...she." The bitch cackled, falling back on the couch. She offered me an apologetic smile, which I returned with a death glare.

"I don't know whatever's between you and Peyton, but Naomi lands in two hours. And what the fuck are you wearing?" And people wonder why Tiffany curses at such a tender age.

"Clothes."

She rolled her eyes and walked over to the spare closet beside the restroom. I couldn't help but take in her gliding form. Even the way she walks screamed iconic. She opened the closet and threw a black cloth at me.

"This is Naomi Campbell we're talking about, an international supermodel. I didn't expect you to show up looking like a sausage wrapped in duck tape. Disastrous for a first impression. " She disregarded, eying my outfit with distaste.

I spread out the one she gave me and cringed at the style. It was an off-shoulder, button-design black bodycon dress.

"I don't want this." I threw it back at her.

"Just test it already. No matter how bad it turns out to be, it would never beat this eh, what do I call it? butcher's uniform." Mom snorted.

Snickering vented behind me and I turned to the person with a murderous look. Peyton cooked this entire mess. I stripped out of my clothes and slipped on the dress.

"Oooh, will you look at that? Del Varian genes don't lie, I swear to God." Peyton nodded in approval.

I turned to the full-length mirror and I've got to admit, I looked hot. The dress hugged my body at the right places and ended just above my knee.

"This is what we call chic." Aurelia gushed, closing the door behind her.

"Aunt Camille, do you ado...

"No, Aurelia. I'm not adopting anyone"  Aurelia pouted and flopped down beside Peyton.

"You've put on weight." Not this again.

"Mom, I've shredded twenty pounds on my keto diet."

"You shredded twenty pounds and still look like that?" Peyton accused.

"Mind your business." I retorted.

"She's right. You've been going bad haven't you?"

"C'mon, she's two sizes smaller than the typical supermodel." Thank you, Aurelia.

Mom's sharp gaze shifted to Aurelia.

"That rule doesn't apply here Aurelia. We're not comparing her to anyone. If anything, she's doing this for herself." She addressed curtly. I have indeed been eating unhealthy for some time, blame it on the vacation to the Gambia.

"Naomi will approve her though." Peyton shrugged.

"I don't care about her ordeal with Naomi. This is possibly a lifetime career we're talking about." Nothing satisfies this woman.

"Back to you. Listen, you're getting back on your diet effective from tomorrow." She ordered with a strict finger pointed at me. My mouth hung open, about to argue until a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," Mom ordered. The door creaked open and a man peeked his head in.

"Ma'am, Campbell is around."

"Send her in."

Breath, breath, breath. You'd think I was being dramatic but trust me when you hear Naomi Campbell, the next word that follows is intimidation. Being the world's top model, it's no surprise she emanates an aura of sophistication. 

"You look like you'll pee any minute." Aurelia mocked. Mom left shortly after, leaving me behind with the two girls.

"Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God." I paced back and forth, a total nervous wreck.

"Seraphina!" Peyton's sharp voice startled me, bringing me back to reality.

"Look at me. I understand what you're going through and trust me I know being interviewed by a top model isn't the easiest of tasks, but you've got to focus. No one's going to judge you because we've all been in your shoe before."

"I'm scared. What if I get rejected? what if I don't convince her enough? I'll never forgive myself." I blabbered.

"Breath, just breath." I did as advised but nothing. I couldn't shake the nerves.

"Aunt Camille just texted. They're here," Aurelia announced.

"What's your advice for me? Please_ just anything."

"I have nothing to tell you except to be yourself. Remember, Naomi likes unique."  Peyton smiled. The door opened and mom walked in, followed by the fashion diva herself.

"You didn't tell me it was three of them." Came in her British accent.

"Those are my employees. She's the only one."

"Alright then, shall we?" She gestured with her head towards the door and mom, together with Peyton and Aurelia left the room. She sat on mom's office desk and gave me a once over. Her blank expression was eating me up, but I still managed to muster a genuine smile regardless.

"Describe your personality in a sentence."

What. How am I...

"You've got five seconds, and your time starts now."

"Confident but humble." Is that even a sentence or a phrase? what did Mr Johnson say is the difference between a sentence and a phrase?

She scribbled something down on a notepad before dropping the pen and folding her arms on the table.

"Who are you wearing?" whoosh, easy one.

"Camille Donna Del Varia. " I answered in one breath.

"Tell me the different forms of models?"

I almost bit my nails but then remembered Peyton warned me to maintain my position and to avoid too much fidgeting, as it irritates Naomi.

"Fashion model, runway model, swimsuit model, commercial model..um how many should I list?"

"I don't know. Don't ask me." She calmly let out, darting her eyes around the office. How rude.

"Okay. Fitness model, parts model, promotional model, glamour model, print model and fit model."  I hope that's all about it.

"You done?"

I pursed my lips and nodded in response.

"I want to believe your mother didn't give me a dumb to interview. So are you done?" Bitch.

"Yes, I am."

"And is that all?" She raised a quizzical brow with a hint of mockery underlying her tone.

I clenched my thighs in anxiety and ransacked my brain for ideas.

"Uh, no. Sorry, I meant yes. That's all." Way to go Seraphina.

"Are you sure?"  Why does she sound shocked?

"Yes," I affirmed. If I was going to fail, then I'd rather it be with celebration and confidence.

"Alright, and under which category or categories do you classify yourself?"

"Fashion and runway model."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tall and slender, a perfect definition of those two categories. " Girl you're muah. It's funny how I fucked up most of the questions and still hype myself for answering the basic ones. Whatever, it's called self-appreciation.

"mmm, let's get personal now. Why do you choose to model?

"I aspire to maintain my mother's legacy and hopefully someday be a great fashion inspiration."

She stared at me intently, her heated gaze piercing my soul. Naomi's intimidating, and she knows it.

I felt very exposed and threatened. She's scaring my ass and enjoying every second of it.

"You never wanted to become a model. It's written all over your face." There was no trace of doubt in her statement. Although factual, the revelation still hit hard. I contemplated between lying to save my ass and telling her the truth. But after serious thinking, I decided to suck it up and opt for the latter.

"No, I never did." I know my mom's going to kill me but I don't care. It was now or never.

"Then what brought you here?"

"My mom. It's been hard trying to get used to everything and at some point, I wanted to quit but I didn't want to come off as a disappointment. It's the motive that kept me going all this time. I want to please my mom, and mostly prove her assumptions of me wrong. I want her to believe that I can be her Peyton or Aurelia. That she could trust La Donna with me without having to look back."

I've bottled this for so long it started haunting me. However, letting it out now, and the relief I felt, made me realise how hard and unforgiving I'd been on myself. My eyes pooled but I forced myself not to cry. If I was going to be rejected, my weakness won't play a role in it. Naomi smirked and stood up, closing the notepad.

"Wishing you all the best, Miss Del Varia. " She tapped my left shoulder and left.

What did I do? what do I tell my mom, Peyton, oh my God? All the training, the late-night meditations. How do I face the employees outside? My legs gave out on me and I collapsed on the floor, my heart palpitating.

The door flew open, revealing my mother.