✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐙𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐒' newly released song "Whole Lotta Love" plays on the radio system of the store loudly.

1969 has been a lovely year, new music from Led Zeppelin, the Jackson 5, and the Rolling stones. The Beatles preformed on the roof of Apple Records, and the first man to walk on the moon happened back in July.

I throw down a pair of dark wash jeans on top of a pile of the other hundred that I've tediously folded. I bob my head to the music and blow a bubble with my gum.

"I'm out, Sav." My coworker, Kadence, speaks from behind me as I fold the last pair of pants. Kadence is a lovely eighteen year old girl that has been working here for about eight months now.

"Alright lovely, " The piece of bubblegum I've been chewing moves to the side of my mouth as I speak. "Walk safe, please." I lean my forearm on the stack of jeans and rest my other sore arm on my hip. She nods in response with that sweet smile that's always plastered on her face as she heads for the glass door. Her blonde pin straight hair flows across her back and her brown and white knee high boots scuff the tile floor.

We've been hanging up beautiful new pieces and stocking our shelves all day. Our shipment was late and so the shelves and racks of the store have been quite bare for a couple weeks.

Kadence has been my only good friend for a while. Before her it's safe to say I didn't have a close friend. I have a few acquaintances who will stop buy sometimes to buy a nice outfit to go to their collage parties in or wear on their five-star dates, and maybe I'll see them around town, but other than that I never have plans with anyone.

BiBa is the name of the shop I work at. I've been working here since I was first able to get a job and I love it. It's very fashionable clothing for a price that doesn't wipe out your whole debit card Especially when you work retail, you deal with ridiculous people for a paycheck that disappoints. But it is so worth it. The atmosphere of this store is insane. So many people with the best style come in and pick up more unique items to add to their closet. The shop is always busy, so there's never a dull moment.

The black and white checkered flooring, the dark red coloured drapes on the dressing rooms, and the overall hippie feel the store has-it never gets old.

I finish putting everything away and tossing the empty cardboard boxes in a dumpster that sits in the alleyway behind BiBa. I hum an aimless tune as I jog back inside, locking the door behind me. I go into the pale lighted office in the back and look at the tiny analog clock on the cream coloured phone sitting on the desk. 10:03, it reads.

I close up the store, doing everything I'm told to do. I grab my white coat and purse on the way out. I fumble in my bags to find my keys and pull them out to lock the rusted silver knob. I walk down the pavement stairs with my arms crossed as the stinging cold wind crashes into my face.

It's always weird walking home alone, but my town has a low crime rate, so I'm never too worried. Chatter from an affectionate couple arm in arm echo across the street. My shiny mary janes scuff the pavement, as it's too cold to even walk normally. I flatten my long skirt to my thighs hoping it will help insulate them. The tights underneath them cling to it. I approach the coffee shop a few blocks down to see if I could stop in for a hot latte, but the neon green and yellow OPEN sign isn't flashing.

I continue my walk all the way home to my flat looking at the posters of models pasted on the street walls.

I've done a few modeling jobs myself. My fathers friend, Suzanne, holds a modeling agency and back during my junior year of high school she thought I held potential to be a model. The biggest job I had was during my senior year; I got to model some colorful skirts for Mary Quaint and the pictures were featured in a Mademoiselle magazine. I've also obviously modeled for Biba and I'm hung up in the store above shelves of shoes.

Im standing behind a bright yellow backdrop with knee high GoGo boots on, a brown miniskirt, a orange sweater and my hair is styled with a white headband. I hate looking at the picture so I'm sure to never glance in it's direction.

I walk up the concrete slab stairs and open the door, trying to be quiet, because my neighbors love to complain about noise late at night.

I throw my coat across the side of a bench sitting beside the entrance.

I rub my hands together and blow my breath between them, trying to thaw them out. I continue blowing on the as I walk down the hall to my room.

I flick the light switch on as I enter my bedroom. I throw my bag down on my desk.

I dial my moms number on my rotary phone, hoping she's still awake. The dial tone keeps ringing until her voicemail tone speaks. I sigh and hang the phone up. Laying my body down on my soft bed.

...

Suzanne suggested she would to take me out to lunch, which I agreed to-knowing even though she said it was about a modeling opportunity she'd blab about something else.

"So, Savannah, darling how have you been?" Suzanne asks sipping her hot lunch tea from a paper cup.

"Well, I'm making it." I let out an awkward chuckle, stabbing a strawberry onto my fork-I eat so many strawberries I'm surprised I don't taste like one. "Work's been painfully busy with the holiday season coming up and-"

"I was going to ask you about this job I've got to offer you, but if you been quite so busy let's have this lunch over another topic." She shrugs her petite shoulders, her salt and pepper hair being as short as her earlobe.

"No, Suzanne I'd love to hear about this opportunity, I'm thinking about attending collage late in the next few years and I'm willing to do anything to reach that financial goal, ma'am."

"Right, " She takes a pausing moment and shuffles her fork around her plate. "so let me tell you about this opportunity, it's something bigger that may kickstart more.."

...

I agreed to it.

I agreed to this modeling job and now I'm stuck here forced in the most outlandish poses in black fishnets and a halter-top dress that's a size too small. The weirdest band is in the middle of us doing jive dancing and shimming while they bang and strum on their instruments. A fellow model with a wild afro looks at me in bewilderment when the director yells cut. I give her the same look back, considering what they are putting us through.

I was a theatre kid in high school-not a contortionist.

At least I'm getting a decent paycheck.

...

Since the music video came out, all my aunts and distant family have been watching it and hitting me up on the phone saying 'Sav ya' look so beautiful up here on this screen, you gotta' boyfriend?'

I had one boyfriend back during my sophomore year of high school-I never felt like he was fully committed, and I always had a gut feeling he was cheating. Although, I never had true proof. But recently, the thought of having to keep up with one person and devoting all my time around them is just unsettling to me. Sure, I do buy cheap lingerie, but it's not to please anyone but my low self esteem. I was never the thinnest growing up and my grandmother nearly body shamed me until I considered eating the fat off my body just so she could accept one part of me, but I learned to not listen to her as I got older.

It all still sits deep within me.