You’re modelling for Victoria’s Secret.

Not that you exactly wanted to, but nobody exactly gives you a choice.

You’re getting ready to head out of your little hotel in Japan, dusting your eyelids with eyeshadow and slipping into a old Led Zepplin jumper.

You’re starting to run, but you’re stopped when a young man suddenly bumps into you, causing you to stumble back a few steps. “Shit, I’m sorry.” A masculine voice says softly, holding a hand out to reassure you. “You okay?” You look up and you recognise the person as Jay Blankson; the model.