• “Work it, Baby, work it!” a blond guy at the other side of the bar shouted. Delphine Grier groaned. She knew all too well that they were talking about her. She picked up her tray and walked – scratch that – strutted towards his table. Some of the guys around her whistled as they got a glimpse of her light blue panties. She tried to keep that grimace off her face as she walked pass. One key point of her job was to entertain the customers, so no negative expressions like annoyance. Always keep a smile on your face. This was a runway. You're the model.

    And so she strutted her stuff down the little catwalk. Delphine worked at Devastating Runway, a bar that had their ladies walk the runway with different fashion each time they came down. The owner, Kevin Terrell, was an international trillionaire. This was his first big bar he had opened, and he had decided to open it in Crystalline, one of Golden Valley's big cities. Ever since he opened it, Devastating Runway has become a huge success. Not only this, but after a few months, Devastating Runway was turned into a nightclub with a bar on the second floor. The upgrade brought it more success. Because of its success, Delphine – known to the customers as Blue Miracle – became an overnight sensation. She had modeling agencies blowing up her phone. Only problem was that Terrell was her manager, and he was the one who decided which gigs she would do, which was none.

    “You are my star, and I want to keep you my star, exclusively,” he had told her. Though she hadn't liked it one bit, she went along with it. She was slowly getting rich off this, so she might as well continue it.

    “Hey! No cameras!” a security guard snapped at one of the customers before snatching his digital camera from him. Pictures of Delphine were extremely rare. There was only one true picture of her that was given to the media, and that was a picture of her on Devastating Runway's opening day. Because of this, the media was becoming increasingly annoying. Seeing this as an opportunity, Terrell was willing to allow big agencies to take professional pictures of her for a fee. Of course, Delphine got a cut of this, but not as big as Terrell's.

    “No kiss?” the blond guy from before questioned. Delphine managed to pull her face into a sexy smirk instead of the intended death glare. Always show a positive expression. Nothing negative, she thought to herself.

    Training herself to not show any irritation and annoyance in her voice, Delphine leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Sorry, but I'm not allowed to. Me doing this is against the rules as well.” She stood up, smiled, and strutted back down the runway.

    Once behind the door that separated the dressing rooms from the bar, Delphine sighed with relief. “Would anyone believe me if I told them that I was tired of my job?” she exhaled. One model snorted at her with a disgusted look her face.

    “You've got a lot of nerve,” she snapped. “You? Tired of this job? Ha! That's laughable! The way you whispered into that guy's ear back there, you looked like you enjoyed it, you little slut.” Delphine glared at her.

    “Do you not pay attention to the mandatory rules of this job, Cicily?” she questioned. “If you did, then you would know that it is mandatory to always, ALWAYS, have a positive expression on while you're on the runway. ALWAYS. It's easier to smile than to keep a neutral expression for me. Anyway, neutral is also considered cold, a negative expression.

    “Also, I was telling that blond pervert that I could kiss him because it was strictly forbidden to show affection towards a customer,” she continued. “I wanted to smack him, but I've been doing this job long enough to know better. Anyway, if I got fired, I wouldn't get paid.”

    “You have modeling agencies calling you twenty-four seven,” Cicily snapped. “You expect me to believe that you wouldn't be able to get a new job within minutes?”

    “I'm not allowed to get jobs from other agencies without a manager,” Delphine told her softly. “If I was fired, I'd lose Terrell as a manager. I could always get a new manager, but I'd prefer not to. I don't want to waste my life modeling. I want to do something better.”

    “There's nothing better than fashion!” Cicily shouted. Delphine sent her look of pure pity.

    “Then you are an idiot.” She set the tray down on the counter and went to change into her next outfit.