Kimmara Freecss
Former Model // Mother // Scarred
- Messages
- 354
- OOC First Name
- Cole
- Blood Status
- Mixed Blood
- Relationship Status
- Married
- Age
- 11/2021
There was nothing, nothing Kimmara wanted more than to remove the revealing clothing she was wearing, and exchange them for something more comfortable. She would like to be back home, resting her brain; she'd even rather be in school than be in the office, waiting to be called in to see the manager. She had arrived an hour earlier that she needed, because she was given the wrong time by her brother, Silas. She couldn't stay mad at her brother though, as he meant well. It was just awful that she had nothing to do as se waited for the next 48 minutes to pass.
Kimmy shifted uncomfortably, hearing the familiar click of heels, of the secretary coming back from speaking with Mrs. Koma. "Kimmy, she'll see you early." The red haired woman told her. Kimmara forced a smile onto her face and nodded. The secretary was sympathetic to all of the models who were working with Koma, as the woman was consistently rude and grumpy. Kimmara's heels clicked on the tile, and she knocked lightly, before a harsh voice allowed her to enter. As Kimmy expected she wasn't even offered a seat before the woman began to not only berate her outfit, but to berate her makeup, and her performance on the runway a few weeks ago. Kimmy was silent, of course, as she had already braced herself. Her face was stone solid, in one expression; calmness. Then a noise caused her to waver, first to a frown, then surprise, as she turned her head and looked toward the door. There she saw a boy, her age, who seemed to have business; but why he wouldn't knock, was beyond her.
Kimmy shifted uncomfortably, hearing the familiar click of heels, of the secretary coming back from speaking with Mrs. Koma. "Kimmy, she'll see you early." The red haired woman told her. Kimmara forced a smile onto her face and nodded. The secretary was sympathetic to all of the models who were working with Koma, as the woman was consistently rude and grumpy. Kimmara's heels clicked on the tile, and she knocked lightly, before a harsh voice allowed her to enter. As Kimmy expected she wasn't even offered a seat before the woman began to not only berate her outfit, but to berate her makeup, and her performance on the runway a few weeks ago. Kimmy was silent, of course, as she had already braced herself. Her face was stone solid, in one expression; calmness. Then a noise caused her to waver, first to a frown, then surprise, as she turned her head and looked toward the door. There she saw a boy, her age, who seemed to have business; but why he wouldn't knock, was beyond her.