Laura, her PA, was rude, arrogant, and clearly annoyed with her job.
"Come with me," she said, her face pinched in displeasure. She selected a dress, matching heels, and jewelry. I looked in the mirror and gasped.
"She wasn't that bad after all… just her attitude," I murmured.
I barely recognized myself. I looked beautiful, stunning, and elegant, a figure ready for the runway.
"Now that's what I'm talking about," Madam Catherine's voice came from behind. She smiled, approaching.
"I'm never wrong in my judgment," she muttered to herself.
"Now I'm fully convinced you're meant for this," she said, standing beside me as I admired myself in the large mirror.
It hadn't been an easy journey, or so I thought.
We learned what to eat, how to stay in shape, maintain the perfect body size, what hairstyles to wear, where to be seen, and much more.
Many girls I started with quit because they couldn't cope. You had to be ready whenever Madam Catherine needed you. The income encouraged me to persevere.
Still, my main motivation remained: Mr. Edward owed me an apology.
"Tina, you'll be with Mr. Frank for the whole week," Madam Catherine said as I picked up the call.
The modeling agency was a front. It fetched money but not enough to sustain Madam Catherine's lifestyle. She picked her finest models, those adored and sought after by wealthy men who needed companionship. At the end, she took 30% of whatever we earned.
It was tiring and exhausting. No one could say no to her. You either quit and fled or paid everything you had earned.
As usual, we had a launch. During my three-year stay, I made sure to improve, learn, and save diligently.
"Yeah, go girl! She's so good at what she does!" the crowd cheered as I walked with my chin up, composed, confident.
The time had come, so I booked an appointment with the finest plastic surgeon in the city.
"Hello, good morning. Please have a seat," Dr. Evans said.
"I've received your forms, and you're very popular. Why would you want to ruin your career by changing your entire look?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.
I had always wanted this, a new face and body, unrecognizable as me.
"This is what I want," I said, exhaling deeply.
He studied my eyes, trying to understand my resolve. I was ready.
"All right, we'll begin this weekend," Dr. Evans said.
"I need a favor," I added, maintaining a straight face. "While at it, can you help change my name and every detail needed to create a new identity?"
"Yes, of course," he replied, understanding the seriousness of my request.
This would not only aid my revenge, but Madam Catherine would never find me. I planned a fake funeral for my old self, completely erasing the old me.
It was time. My heart raced; I was nervous yet ready.
"It is time, Tina. It is," I whispered to myself as I gazed into the mirror, the well-known model who had achieved recognition.
"I can do this. I need to," I said one last time.
"Ma'am, we are ready for you," a nurse called. I followed, falling asleep through the procedure, feeling nothing.
Days dragged on as I dealt with the soreness from the surgery and the nervous uncertainty about how I'd look. Would I really be prettier, or would I end up disappointed? My mind wouldn't stop racing, jumping from one thought to another, tangled between hope and worry.
"You can now look into the mirror," Dr Evans said. Sixty days had passed since the procedure.
I exhaled deeply as I saw her: more beautiful, elegant, and commanding. A face no man could resist. My body was flawless, hips even, butt rounded, and breasts standing perfectly.
I was ecstatic.
"Thank you, Dr. Evans. You did well," I smiled in acknowledgment.
"This is between us and should always remain so," I added, leaving the office.