I’m about to see Josh take Heath Mason’s slammer of a cock in his asshole, nopuppy dogin sight. I’ll happily drink to that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The next few weeks pass by in the blink of an eye, and with every passing minute, and every incoming proposal, another part of me steps into the spotlight – of my own inner world, not the outside.
There are always different degrees to being yourself, that’s what I’ve been discovering this year, little by little. So many onion layers to peel away to get to your core. Exposing that core to the world would have felt so intimidating in my previous versions of Ella Edwards, but as Christmas calls, I feel nothing but the festive joy. Proud and free.
Wow, how my life has changed in the past twelve months. It’s unreal to think how quickly and dramatically things turned around for me when I needed it most.
I was a nobody, living a minimum wage lifestyle with everything I had to give. I had nothing but huge debt to my name, trying to help a selfish asshole of a boyfriend achieve his dreams and having none of my own.
I was so devoted to him, I never even thought of mine.
Connor got his shot, and he blew it. Vinnie Hampton was right. Connor has become a total outcast in the US music scene by now, despised by almost everyone he’s come into contactwith. They haven’t been quiet about it, either. Social media is rife with the backlash.
I thought I had it bad when I was ousted as thehooker who broke his heart, but that was fuck all compared to the hate he gets online.
Since his latest round of coke fuelled ranting and middle fingers, the whole world seems to have risen up in defiance. He’s been dropped by his agent and preyed on by the press for the right reasons. The whole industry is chantingConnor Preston is a cunt.
But who cares? Certainly not me. He really is a jackass that deserves it.
Some might say it’s karma that his dreams went down the drain, but I don’t hold grudges that way. I’d like to imagine he’s going through the exact same process I’ve been going through. Onion layers peeling away to the core… and exposed so the world can see. I only pray that when and if I am truly exposed to the world, I don’t suffer the consequences of having a rotten, selfish core. But I doubt I will.
I’m anything but rotten and selfish.
I’m asweet curvawith a heart of gold.
I’m proud of the woman I greet in the mirror every morning and say goodnight to every evening in the mirror before I go to bed. I’m proud of thegoodheart within my chest. That’s what will move clients as much as my extremely filthy nature and black-market notoriety.Me.
Me, myself and Ella Edwards.
The proposals have been coming in thick and fast, just as Vinnie said they would. Last week I clicked accept on two, for the week following New Year. Two five-hour proposals with some music industry A-listers on tour in the UK. It was obvious from the description which band the members are from. I’ve checked out their tour list to be sure.
I’ll make over three hundred grand from those sessions. Three hundred grand in one single week, and that’s just the beginning.
The highest proposal value in my inbox currently sits at five hundred and seventy-five thousand. It involves a first-class flight to New York. Luxury accommodation for three days, so I can see the sights, then one single night with an actor who has starred in over twenty-seven action movie classics.
I watched three of them in a row the other night with a grin on my face.
February can’t come quickly enough for that kind of thing, and it leads to further mind wandering.
Belgravia is far greater and luxurious than I would have ever imagined, but there is a big world out there, with grand manors and statues lit up in neon lights, and penthouse apartments all over the globe.
And Heath’s place.
London as well as Cannes.
Yachts, and hotels around the world, and, and, and…
The list goes on and on.
The luxury of Belgravia may well be blowing up to a whole new scale. Christmas has a magic to it greater than I could have ever imagined.
Man, how I love catching up with Eb and Tiff on the weekend. Our girly trio is always so much fun. These two are my staple besties now, and my self blooms easily around them. I’ve nothing to hide from within anymore, even if I keep my mouth shut on the outside. The secrets I keep are purely work based, but I’m used to that by now. I have to keep my filthy cards close to my chest, for my clients, not for me. I’ve learnt that talent since first signing up to The Agency.
People deserve their privacy, even when I’m beginning to shed mine. And my clients are getting… bigger. They certainly won’t be staples appearing in Agency forum chats.
It would be so satisfying to squeal and let the girls in on my good fortune. I’d love to sit with them for a lunchtime glass of fizz with the Christmas tunes jingling in the background, squealing with delight in the festivities of a London bar. But I can’t do that. Not about the celebrities coming my way, and definitely not about Heath.
