Our girl

Chapter 3

Emma Rossi narrating:

It's been three days since I've been living in New York, and now I'm heading towards my agency.

Giulia left early in the morning because she had to do makeup and fix her hair for a photo shoot. She's a model from my agency, and a very famous clothing brand became interested in her. They hired her to be the brand's model, and I was very happy for her.

After a few minutes, I finally parked my car in front of the agency and got out. I walked towards the elevator when a blonde from the pharmacy stopped me and wouldn't let me go up.

— Do you have an appointment? — the cheeky girl asked.

— No — I replied.

— Then you can't come in — she said, chewing gum, making me want to punch her in the mouth.

— Sweetheart, I don't have an appointment because I'm the owner — I said.

— I'll call security — she said and called them, but they already knew me and didn't budge.

A very beautiful red-haired woman approached and stood by my side.

— Sorry, ma'am, she just started working today and probably doesn't know you — she said, very friendly.

— It's okay — I said.

— What's your name, sweetheart? — I asked the cheeky girl.

— Tiffany — she replied.

— Alright, dear, look at my photo right there — I pointed to a wall where there was a photo of me, and I saw her turn pale, — take a good look at it and also take a look at your resignation letter.

I entered the elevator and went up to the top floor where my office was. I sat at my desk, leaned back in my chair, and let out a tired sigh.

I ran my hand through my hair and observed it until I noticed a strand that was slightly thicker and darker in color.

I reached for it and pulled it out, wrapped it around my finger, and watched it until I realized what I was doing, then threw it in the trash.

Not again! I have trichotillomania, but I hadn't had this hair-pulling habit for a long time.

Since childhood, I have been under a lot of pressure for being the sole heiress of Rossi's Model. Some people don't see a problem with it, but many do. The higher your social status, the more people expect from you. Since I was a child, people have been saying that I have to be better than my father or my mother, and I swear I try, but each day it gets harder, because when I make a mistake, everyone talks about it, but when I succeed, people say it's my duty and never congratulate me for my success, except for my family who supports me in everything.

And then there are those damn paparazzi who surround me like vultures. Almost every week I end up on gossip sites with stories they make up about me.

They try to make a name for themselves at my expense and create a personality for me that doesn't exist. I know I'm not a saint, and I don't think anyone is, but they invent so many lies. At first, it was very difficult to deal with the criticisms and lies they created, and I was always very stressed because of it. I had to find a way to relieve that stress, and I developed this habit and couldn't stop. When my parents found out, they took me to a psychologist and I started therapy. I improved a lot, and it's been over three years since I pulled out any hair, but with all the stress of living in another country, I think it's coming back, and I have to make it stop.

I tried to forget everything and focused on work, which was no small task.

I signed several contracts, and among all the paperwork, there was an invitation to a fashion event that will take place in a month. I put it in the drawer to look at it later and continued with my work.