I had been mere nineteen when I had been discovered. A child, in many ways.

I was working in a cafe as a barista after I had graduated from high school, trying to figure out what the fuck to do with myself from here on out like so many others my age. My grades had been far from bad, although not excellent. Maybe, I could study English literature? Or just English? I knew Italian and had done some Russian in high school and then taught me the rest of the language myself; maybe I could add that? Go abroad to study in Russia? 

My head had been more full of hopes and dreams than it could ever had been if I had dreamed of becoming world-famous. Even so, world-fame was given to me.

The cafe I worked in was close to Central Park and not easily affordable. They had hired me because I was what people who came there searched for in life, which was young and pretty. The customers didn't only want the extravagant cakes made by the world-class pastry chef.

And one day, a model scout had come in, and... well, scouted me.

But never in a million years had I thought it possible for a model to reach the level of fame I had. I had believed, when I had first signed the contract, that I would be modelling for cheap catalogues and in-store sales signs. And to begin with, it had been a lot of that, yes. But my agent hadn't lost heart.

"There's just something oh-so-special about you. You just wait!"

Many times in my early twenties, I had stood in front of my mirror,  wondering what on earth was so special about me. I was tall and lean, yes, but I though my nose was too long, my chin too rough, my eyes too big with bags underneath them. My naturally black hair was the only part of me I felt I had control over, and I had taken to wearing it reaching past my ears with the fringe draped over one eye.

"You have that quirky appearance that speaks to the big fashion houses nowadays. It's like Eddie Redmayne had a child with Adam Driver!"

I didn't know who Eddie Redmayne or Adam Driver were, but I wasn't all that certain I was happy about being their imaginary love child.

But my manager had been right in one thing. The fashion houses soon got their eyes up for me. I walked for Fendi, for Armani, for Boss. I was asked to make not only magazine spreads but covers as well. I was immeasurably popular on social media. And I as I acted in my first music video, I was soon asked to do interviews, giving me a personality on top of my appearance, which the public apparently liked.

At first, I had loved it. Of course I had. I had been mesmerised by my own success. At twenty-three, I had a private jet, an entire floor in a New York skyscraper, which I owned to this day, and rarely woke up in the same bed for more than a week at a time as I travelled so much. The world could not get enough of me.

Then, I had slowly but steadily noticed a deterioration. I was constantly jet-lagged, and hardly ever got more than a few hours of sleep each night. I was often so tired, I was afraid I would get a seizure. That was then I had begun taken a few shots too many each week to cope. Then, at a particularly rough party, I had had to take myself aside to breathe... 

And that was when I had been introduced to cocaine.

"Take this. You will thank me."

It was a bit more complex than that, involving a lot of compliments and flirting, but I'm too ashamed to think of it in too much detail. Needless to say, I had accepted, and it had been everything that I had been promised. I felt that cocaine saved my life. Of course, it didn't.

The only thing it did was enable me to keep destroying myself. 

"There you go, Madara, there you go. Good. Turn this way. Gorgeous boy."

I was shooting an ad campaign for a brand so expensive, even I hadn't heard of it. I was wearing a suit that gathered in my waist, its shoulder pads making me feel ridiculously powerful.

We were at the ocean, the water dusky blue and the sunset opening itself up like a fruit being peeled above us. I was standing with the salty water up to my thighs, posing for this amazing and unusual photo shoot.

And I thought of him. Him him him him him him him.

I imagined him standing there on the beach, behind the world-renowned photographer, watching me do what I did best. Oh, it was something so arousing about someone seeing you in your game. In my fantasy, he was beyond impressed by me. Of course, I didn't know what he looked like, but I could still imagine his faceless self smirk at me, loosen his tie, lick his lips. I smirked back, grabbed my tie and loosened it suggestively.

"Gorgeous work, Madara. Walk towards me."

But I wasn't walking towards the photographer. I was walking towards him.

I want you to fuck me so bad. I want you to push your body into mine as I lay on my stomach in my bed. Hold your hand over my mouth so I do not scream. I am your obedient little pet, remember?

Slowly, I unbuttoned my suit jacket as I walked towards the camera, my eyes not on the lens but behind it, to where I pictured my secret online lover was standing. The photographer went berserk, apparently happy with what his camera saw. I didn't care at this point.

"Good, good."

I blinked back to reality, felt my heart spill itself out in the ocean around me when I realised the sand behind the photographer was empty.

He promised... He promised he would let me see part of him on video... If only I tell him who I am.

I was trembling now. How many hours since my last line?

"It's a wrap."

I stumbled towards the hotel and my backpack, where I hid my stash in a secret pocket. I did a line, then took two shots of Vodka on top. Slowly, I came back to my normal self.

Or as normal as I could be.

Secret online doctor lover: Hi, M.

Me: Hi, H.

Secret online doctor lover: <3

Me: <33

Secret online doctor lover: I was thinking about you <333

Me: Just now?

Secret online doctor lover: All day, in fact. All night as well. God, you're getting under my skin. 

Me: Actually, I was just about to write you when you wrote me. But I'm glad you got there first. It makes me feel hard to catch ;)

Secret online doctor lover: You tease :* How was your day? 

Me: I thought about you while I worked.

Secret online doctor lover: Tell me more?

Secret online doctor lover: Not about your work, of course. I know you're private about that. But about your thoughts.

Me: You were just... watching. Watching me do what I'm good at. You were smirking at me. I have never felt so in control, yet so out of it. I did very well. 

Secret online doctor lover: Good boy.

Me: God, when you call me that...

Secret online doctor lover: Can't wait until I can whisper it in your ear...

Me: It's going to happen, isn't it?

Secret online doctor lover: The more I speak to you, the more certain I become. I cannot imagine leaving this life without having met you. 

Me: I like you more and more every day. How was your day?

Secret online doctor lover: Good. Surprisingly low number of casualties today, so I helped out in the ER. It's a nice change of pace. 

Me: What if I collapsed in the street or something and was taken to ER and it happened to be in the New York hospital where you work and you took care of me and we just didn't know?

Secret online doctor lover: Oh, M, please, don't say it like that. I would much rather meet you in softer circumstances.

Me: Sorry. 

Secret online doctor lover: Don't apologise, lovely. Honestly, if anything, God forbid, happened to you, I'd rather it be me taking care of you than someone else. I would like to have all control. 

Me: Do you think... Do you think you would know? It was me?

Secret online doctor lover: I wouldn't be surprised.

Me: Me neither <3

Secret online doctor lover: May I ask you something? <3

Me: Anything, H.

Secret online doctor lover: In your fantasy... When I saw you work... What did I look like?

Me: You didn't have a face or body. I could still see your smirk, but you were more of a presence. Since I don't know what you look like. Why? 

Secret online doctor lover: Sometimes, I'm afraid you won't like what I look like.

Me: Don't you think I worry about the same?

Secret online doctor lover: You don't need to.

Me: Same about you. 

Secret online doctor lover: How can you miss someone you never met?

Me: I've been asking myself the same thing ever since we started talking. 

Secret inline doctor lover: I have been thinking... About my promise to you.

Me: !!!

Secret online doctor lover: It was a bit manipulative of me, I know, to bribe you like that. But truth is... Ever since I suggested it, I really, really want to show myself on video to you. Not all of me to begin with, but... You know... My torso. The way we spoke of. I consider offering it to you without you having to do anything in return. 

I was tapping my foot on the floor, scratching my forearms absent-mindedly with my short nails. Why? Why was it so hard? I just had to write one little sentence in my phone and press send. I'm a world-famous fashion model. Why was it so hard for me?

I stood up from my couch and walked to my panoramic window, looking out at the skyscrapers and streets below and before me; New York in all its might. I had told H that he wouldn't believe me if I told him, but that wasn't the real reason why I didn't want to tell him who I was; of course he would believe me. The real reason was, I was ashamed. He was a trauma surgeon, saving lives for a living. I was making people wish they looked like me and bought expensive shit they didn't need in exchange for money. Not to even mention my alcohol and cocaine addiction. How dare I complain about jet lag when this man was operating for hours into the nights? 

But I had been so, so close of telling him, just to see him in video. And now, he had offered himself on a silver plate to me.

What if I said yes? What if I said yes, and he just called me with his camera on, just like that? That could be us, a minute from now. At the same time, the thought of it didn't only make me excited; it filled me with a sense of disappointment as well. Why?

Because you want to tell him.

I went into my pantry, did a line. The white magic went up to my brain immediately. I opened the fridge but had no alcohol there, so I called the portier downstairs and asked him to buy me some Absolute that I knew would arrive within ten minutes. 

You desire to tell him... Not only about your profession, but also about your addiction.

I sat down, tapped my foot again, thinking. There was a call on the intercom and my Vodka arrived. I thanked the portier, poured a glass which I mixed with lemon juice and sugar and chugged. Then, I made another glass which I drank more slowly.

I took a deep breath, took my phone. 

Me: Actually, H...

Secret online doctor lover: M...