The Beginning

                                    

                                          
By now I'd heard it over and over again. Every type of rejection, in every single form. Before, it used to be that you got rejected in person, with them looking into your eyes and having to tell you that you weren't good enough. They had to think of a legible reason to actually reject you. But nowadays, in the era of the Internet, rejections come to you in even more impersonal ways. 
                          
I'd even gotten emails from agencies simply stating a "no" or a "send more pictures", or if I was lucky, "come see us". Most of the time, though? It was a form rejection letter. When I was given a reason, it didn't sting any less. 
                          
I, apparently, didn't have the right 'look' for most of the companies (apparently being a brunette with green eyes, 5'11'' and under 110 pounds wasn't good enough). I lacked experience (hello? If I had experience why would I be coming to you?) and others just simply said no. I'd gone to other agencies, agencies known for being reputable but not top-of-the-line. One of my last hopes was a small but respected agency, known for actually getting work for their models. The problem was that they hardly ever took on new models; they were that selective. 
                          
My confidence was knocked from rejection after rejection, but I thought I might as well give it a shot. I'd gone to their open call but there had been so many models loitering around, downing coffee and chattering, that the receptionist had told me that they couldn't possibly get through all of them today and there was no point in me hanging around. I'd sighed and thanked her and she'd asked me if I had any pictures with me. I had and she promised to pass them onto the agents. Two weeks later went by and no word came. By this time, I was frustrated and sick of feeling kicked aside and unwanted. By talking to some of the other girls, I'd learned the name of one of the talent scouts at the agency: Lara. I could see that this was my chance, and I grabbed it with both hands. 
                          
I walked into the agency with my head held high. "I've got a meeting with Lara," I told the receptionist. She was on the phone and making notes, so she just raised an eyebrow and waved at me to sit down. I felt myself flushing; what if she realizes I'm lying? Will she kick me out? Half an hour of sitting, and she didn't pay much attention to me. This was my moment.
                          
	"Excuse me, but I've been here for half an hour waiting for my meeting. This is really unprofessional. I have other calls to go to today. Is Lara even here?" I demanded of the receptionist, trying hard to keep up the act. "Like, hello? What kind of a place is this?" 
                          
The receptionist stared at me for a second then asked my name. She picked up her receiver and, still maintaining eye contact, muttered something to the person on the other line. I could tell she was being told off, but she ended it with "Okay" and slammed the phone back down.
                          
	"She'll be with you in a moment." She said, smiling sweetly, while her eyes remained black as coffee. "Have a seat."
                          
"Finally. Thank you." I refrained from rolling my eyes. My heart was racing, and my mouth was dry. I couldn't believe that this might work. I kind of felt ashamed of myself. I'd never considered myself an angry person or a liar. I wasn't a nobody who was full of attitude for no reason. I was just an ordinary girl looking for a break. Suddenly I heard my name. I looked up to see a girl, about 20-something, nearly six feet tall with stick-straight blonde hair and baby blues. She was the poster child of an all-American-girl. 
                          
	"Yes?" I asked nervously. 
                          
What if she was here to kick me out because I don't have an appointment?
                          
"Lara?" I said.
                          
"No." The girl said. "Alicia. Lara's assistant."
                          
"Oh. Of course."
                          
"Come this way."
                          
As I followed her I realized how stupid I was to think that she was Lara. No way would a girl in her 20's be a reputable agent. Unless she started at age six, maybe.