Your POV

You’d hurried your way through the light weathered atmosphere of the French town, moths cuddled under warm streetlights, moon shining towards reflected townhouse windows. It has been the start of fall in the mostly downtown part of France. Where most tourist places and modeling agencies took place, did I mention modeling was your specialty? You did– moving temporarily from the States to Europe to pursue it even more. You have done some big time jobs. Prada, Dior, Adidas. Did I also mention you just came from a modeling show where you received praise from hundreds of other creators, artists and actors? You were blowing up slightly on Instagram, reaching a solid million followers, getting recognized by literal icons like Alex consani (love her sm). You had photoshoots in Milan, Italy as well as Dublin, Ireland. The city of New York? Come on, you're living the dream.

What else can you ask for? You grinned and thought to yourself sheepishly those words as entering your grand hotel elevator where you didn't hear the words of a shorter brunette alongside a suited up man who was busy on his phone. You look bamboozled and she replied with a smirk. “What floor?” She repeated. You gulp and respond, “Fourth.” She replied back with a smile. “Same as me.” The elevator door shut slightly.

Ariana POV

I was in Paris for fans meet and greet and being honorably invited as a guest for a famous show, to be seated and watched. I was indeed one of the biggest rising teenage actresses of this time and it had been an honor to come. It had been amazing seeing those artworks of fashions. The person who had entered the elevator, they were awfully familiar? I knew who they were.

My eyes focused on the golden ring on their right hand. They model for the show. I remember seeing that I gasped slightly, pulling on my manager's sleeve who was busy answering calls. He looks at me. “Hm?” He asks me with a smile. I explained to him my acknowledgement of the model in a low tone. He looks up. “You think so Ariana,” he looked puzzled.