Alex was discovering he didn't really like to model very much. It was a fucking superficial way to live and, as superficial as Alex was, he drew the line at being called a mannequin by clients. Not to mention not being able to eat his favorite foods.
But it was a good job that allowed Alex to study more than being an EMT allowed. It also paid nicely so Alex held his tongue, a difficult thing to do for him.
Alex was walking out of his agency's office after a meeting that included telling young people to stop screwing each other and focus on their work, with the second agenda focusing on good hygiene and diet practices. To Alex's dismay, it meant sandwiches from his favorite deli were scratched now. As he walked, he heard a girl swear and saw papers blowing in the wind.
Smoothly, Alex caught a few sheets, then leaned down to grab up some more. His gaze lifted to the girl who looked familiar. He thought she was part of the performing arts in the same building. "Nice French," he complimented.