I was beside myself with excitement when I signed a one-time contract with a leading athletics company in the country. The company was looking for a model to advertise their athletics merchandise for them on social media; someone who was beautiful had a large social media following and was extremely passionate and good at their job. I was flattered when they decided that I was the best fit for the role and contacted my manager Marcus to discuss the specifications of the deal. However, the cause of the excitement was not how big the deal was or how much money they would be paying for the contract: what appealed to me the most was the location they had chosen for the shoot.

Only my diary knows about my dirty little secret. Nobody else in the world, not even my best friends, my manager, my creative team, or my fans spread out worldwide had an idea of what it was. Behind this innocent-looking and pretty face, there was a guilty unrevealed indulgence, and only my diary beheld this truth. Maybe one day I

I briskly descended the flight of stairs, still sleepy and groggy from all the work that I had done that week. It had been an extremely busy week at work and I was glad the weekend was here. I had woken up just a few minutes ago, and the cold shower had done little to refresh my senses. I was