I had been walking around the mall mindlessly for a couple of hours now. I was just trying to get my mind off of the modeling agency interview I had just been to. They hadn’t said one way or the other, but I could tell by the way the lady chewed her face, that I wouldn’t be signing with them.
It was so frustrating! I sighed, deciding to take a load off and formulate my next plan of attack....after I relaxed a little.
So that’s how I found myself sitting in the food court at the mall, sipping my drink and people-watching mindlessly. I was bored out of my mind, so I decided to entertain myself.
I shifted and crossed my shapely legs negligently, noting the way the hottie leaning against the far wall glued his gaze to them as my mid-thigh length skirt rode up a little farther. I threw him a smirk to let him know I was aware that he had been watching.
I smiled to myself. I was a snacc. I knew this....and he was too, actually. I returned his gaze, running my eyes over his form. He was tall and muscular with sandy hair just long enough to fall in his eyes. He was definitely Ivy League, the category I reserved for men so hot I might let them fuck me more than once. Right now he was looking at me like he wanted to eat me.
Let’s do this.
I saw the unknown hottie push off of the wall he had been leaning against, presumable to come talk to me, and I inwardly congratulated myself on another successful shopping trip. I straightened my baby-doll T-shirt that stopped about an inch shy of where my skirt started, and absently ran my fingers through my jet black hair, feeling it brush the exposed skin of my lower back.
I may not be getting anywhere with my modeling contract, but at least men were still easy.
I watched as the hottie approached me and sat down at the little table across from me. “I’m Ivy” I purred, offering my well manicured hand to him. He shook it and grinned at me.
“Actually, I already know who you are.” He leaned over to rifle through a briefcase I hadn’t noticed before and came out with a file, setting it on the table and reading through it.
“Your nam is Ivy Monroe. You are an only child. Your parents passed away when you were attending Excellsior School of Modeling, from which you graduated recently, correct?” He finished, looking back up at me.
Ok.....this was getting weird now. I was honestly a little freaked that this man knew so much about me. I raised a brow delicately and sent him an inquisitive look.
“Who are you? What’s the deal? Are you some kind of stalker or something...?”
He chuckled and shook his head.
“Actually, you’re partly right.” My eyes widened, and I was about to get up and quit wasting my time, when he quickly continued.
“I’m a talent scout for BigHit Entertainment. Have you heard of them?”
I nodded my head. They were huge and had launched the careers of many successful models and musicians. I wanted desperately to sign with them, but had not even been given an interview, when I applied.
“So you’re scouting me right now?” I asked, becoming excited at the possibility, but trying not to get my hopes up.
“Yes, but there are....special circumstances that are attached to the modeling contract we want to extend to you....” he trailed off and handed me a legal document, which I took and began reading through.
“This contract guarantees you a place within BigHit as a model and personal assistant to our most popular idol group, BTS.” He explained as he searched for a pen in his briefcase.
“BigHit is prepared to offer you, upon your signing of the contract in front of you, lodging within the BTS dorm, above average promotion and preferential booking of jobs, and a salary that you will find highlighted near the bottom of page 5.”
I skimmed ahead to page 5 and my eyes glazed over at the sight of all the zeros in the number printed there. I swallowed thickly.
“What exactly are the expectations of this personal assistant role?” I questioned. There must be a catch somewhere. My salary would easily be three times what even most experienced models made.
He nodded, seeing my skepticism, and smirked appreciatively.
“You’re smart to ask. In addition to the usual duties, you will be responsible for light cleaning -a maid service comes twice a week for the heavy duty stuff-, and assisting with their needs in any way they request.” He paused and eyed me intensely.
“Are you a virgin, Ivy?” I snorted and a giggle escaped me.
Smarty-pants here, didn’t know me as well as he thought!!
He shot me a questioning look.
“Um...no. Im not. Not even a little bit.” I said, shaking my head. He nodded.
“Ok then, should you sign with us, we will make you an appointment with our staff doctor to get you screened for STDs and started on birth control-”
“I’ve got that part handled,” I said, showing him my inner arm, where my implant was slightly visible. I raised a brow.
“But why all the reproductive questions? Am I supposed to sleep with these guys or something?” I joked.
“If they so choose, then yes.” He replied, giving me a direct look, so I would understand that he wasn’t kidding.
“BTS consists of seven young men who, I’m sure you understand, have needs that can’t easily be satisfied between time demands and worries over publicity issues. Part of your role is to provide them with female companionship...sexual or otherwise.”
Well ok then....
I nodded my head and looked down at the contract. I bit my lip.
Should I do this? What if I wasn’t attracted to them? It would feel like rape every time they touched me....
But then I thought about the huge salary and cushy modeling contract attached to this deal...it was beyond my wildest dreams.
I picked up the pen and signed.