Fleur On The Runwayby rosebugChaptersChapter One - The SpotlightChapter Two - The FittingChapter Three - The RunwayChapter Four - The MirrorIntroductionChapter One - The Spotlight“Congratulations Fleur,” my publicist said at our morning meeting over breakfast. “Hoity Toity wants you to close his show during Fashion Week.” There it was: relief. This was the job I had hoped to get ever since I started to work as a fashion model. Hoity Toity was the most important designer in Equestria and most, if not all, serious models dreamed of being on his runway, let alone the star of his show. After all, his opinion went a long way in the fashion industry. Being chosen as the final model of the show was the biggest honor anypony in my career track could hope for. The model who walks down the runway along with the designer at the end of the show always wears the most glamorous outfit from the new line. Not to mention, Hoity Toity uses his Fashion Week show as a way to not only present his new collection, but also to showcase the face of said collection's campaign. And this time it was going to be my career that blossomed thanks to his show. It was a dream come true for the filly who grew up in a small town that may as well been called “Nowhere.” Nothing was near it, nopony had ever heard of it, and absolutely nothing ever happened there. For as long as I could remember, my only real dream in life had been to move somewhere more glamorous. Somewhere I could feel like I was making something of myself instead of just going through the motions. It felt like a far-fetched dream though, my dad's family had lived in this town for generations and I expected that I would too, but I always felt like I was cut from a different mold than everypony else in that town. My whole life, I always felt like other ponies could see right through me and could tell all the flaws I so desperately tried to hide with just one look. That was why I loved fashion. It was a shining beacon of hope for a filly whose life seemed so gray and monotonous. Whenever I opened up a fashion magazine, it seemed like everything and everypony in the industry seemed so colorful and full of life. The models and designers seemed to live extraordinary lives filled with colorful clothes and confident smiles. The models I saw poised in magazines seemed to exude so much confidence and beauty in the clothes they posed in that I thought there could be a bit left over for me, the filly from the middle of nowhere. I wanted to be just like them. I wanted ponies I have never met to look up to me and think of me as beautiful. More than anything, I aimed for perfection. So, as soon as I got the opportunity I moved to Manehattan to live my dream of becoming a model. I was going to be just like the models I saw in my fashion magazines. Getting started wasn't instantaneous. Several times my agent spoke to me after go-sees and told me exactly why the designer didn't like me. For some I was too short, sometimes I just didn't have the look they wanted, and for many I weighed too much. But after my first Fashion Week, my career began to gain momentum. A few important ponies who saw me walking down the runway liked me and booked me themselves and it spiraled from there, feeling like a whirlwind of opportunities that I thought would never slow down. And it didn't. Not exactly. But Manehattan's taste in models shifted, and the fresh-faced models that were coming to the scene were more in style with the demands of the designers and photographers. New personalities akin to Photo Finish's latest find, Fluttershy, were taking the scene by storm. I could feel my success slipping away. One couldn't blame me for being worried. “Yes, I am sure you are very happy, but this is an important job. Probably the most important job of your career,” my agent reminded me. I nodded along, taking a tiny bite of the fruit in front of me. My publicist had a habit of going off on tangents, and after finally having the peace of mind that I had booked my dream job, I just wanted to relax. “...and you look like you haven't exactly been pumping iron lately. Which brings me to Hoity Toity's one teeny tiny suggestion.” “Uh huh,” I responded, half paying attention. “Hoity Toity wants you to lose five pounds before his show. The dress is skin-tight and it will show any... errors in your figure.” I looked up, trying not to look as surprised as I felt. She said with such nonchalance that it seemed like she thought of it as something so minuscule, just an addition to my contract instead of a requirement. Hoity Toity had the power to make-or-break anypony's fashion career if they didn't adhere to his standards and he wouldn't hesitate to terminate my contract even if it was minutes before the show began. I have dieted to get and keep jobs before, ponies in the industry can be incredibly harsh especially towards newer models. I learned that the hard way after my first photoshoot. The mare who had worked on my make up before that first photoshoot didn't talk much, but she did put an inordinate amount of make-up on my face and made it a habit to ignore me even if I tried to make conversation with her which she often replied with a deep sigh and an eye-roll to the stallion working near her. “Models, right?” He chuckled in response. I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the photoshoot. A feat that turned out to be simple as nopony talked to me unless they were barking orders at me. “Ew, Fleur, pick up your head a little! You're holding it so low it looks like you have a double chin!” “Move that leg!” “Don't smile like that!” The amount of criticism I got during my first shoot was staggering. And, by the end of the shoot, I was ready to curl up in bed and cry, but I had to wait for my agent which meant that I had to stay and listen to a conversation that was being held between her, the designer, and the photographer on how I should stand, walk and hold myself in the future because only so much that can be fixed in post. It seemed foreign to me that my agent and the designer could stand around me and speak about nothing but my body and my waistline without ever actually saying a word to me. And yet, there I was, standing in front of a white backdrop with everypony staring at me, my eyes stinging from holding in the tears. As they spoke I couldn't help, but look down at my body in shame as I wondered why I had ever thought that I could do this in the first place when I obviously didn't have the right look and I definitely didn't have the awe-inspiring confidence all the models I looked up to, had. The day ended with the unanimous decision that I should lay off the hay fries, it would take less time manipulating the photos in the future. After that day, embarrassed by the conversation I was present for, I cut all fast food out of my diet. I hoped that by cutting those foods out I would never have to hear comments like that ever again, but even after that, I would still hear comments about my weight every now and then. And every time, the comment would cut through me like a knife. I know I'm not the only pony to face this, all models have. It is an unspoken rule in the fashion industry that you do what you have to do to look the part. If asked, you just say that you have a fast metabolism and are genetically blessed. You are never under any circumstances to ever even hint that you may have to go through some extreme measures that many models have to take every once in a while. Especially not to the media. One mention of that to the presses, and you can kiss your career goodbye. I suppose it's understandable. Brands don't want their lines to be associated with any kind of controversy since it can hurt sales. The job of the model is to help increase the sales while also giving the masses a look that ponies can aspire to. And, while the rational side of me knows that it isn't personal, the rational part of me is always overclouded by the part of me that was scared and self-conscious. So it always feels personal to me. None more so than this time. For the first time in years, I had the opportunity to spend part of my summer visiting my extended family in Prance. Summer is usually a slow time for bookings since designers are trying to get their line ready to debut at the beginning of fall. So, I jumped at the opportunity to join my parents on vacation for the first time in years. And, of course, since food is an important part of visiting family, I was prompted to eat a little more than I would have otherwise. When I returned to Manehattan, I hoped that nopony would notice that I hadn't stuck to my diet this summer, but apparently I was wrong. If Hoity Toity noticed that I gained weight, then who else noticed? What if other designers noticed? How many jobs have I lost to the new mare in town? I looked down at my plate which was still half covered in food, suddenly feeling self-conscious and pushed the remnants of my breakfast away, and mumbled under my breath that I was full. My agent just smiled and motioned for the waitress to come and take our plates. * * * As soon as I returned to my apartment, I hightailed it to the bathroom, and planted myself in front of the mirror. This summer had thrown me off my carefully planned out diet, I shouldn't have listened to my family this summer because now I was paying the price. I stared at myself in disbelief at my reflection, I didn't realize I looked like that. The mare in the mirror was bigger than I remember myself being, her pristine white coat barely seemed to have to stretch to cover the weight of her body. I almost couldn't believe this was me. How did I ever feel comfortable letting myself leave my apartment today? The mare in the mirror seemed to laugh at my pain. Oh sweetie. She sighed. Look at yourself, look at the fat hanging off you... it's disgusting, you're disgusting. I cringed. It hurt, but she was right, I was disgusting. Lucky for you, I'm here to help, she cooed. Her voice was soothing like a warm blanket surrounding me on a cold winter night, warm and inviting. So, I believed her. Chapter Two - The FittingUntil this afternoon, I hadn't actually met Fluttershy. I had heard of her through the grapevine, of course. Photographers and designers adored her because she had the look that Manehattan designers were looking for this season. Models on the other hoof were less ecstatic about the new girl in town. In a way, I could understand. Fluttershy was Photo Finish's protegé and like Hoity Toity, her word in fashion goes far which is why it is so rare for fashion photographers (or anypony else in the fashion industry who isn't an agent) to specifically endorse a model, especially one that hadn't already been working on the modeling circuit. My agent had warned me about her from the moment she stepped onto the scene, constantly reminding me that she was my biggest competition because of Photo Finish's influence. I had never even met the girl, but she cast a huge shadow that seemed like it was slowly suffocating me. “Who lumped these clothes here?!” Hoity Toity cried out, breaking the silence of the afternoon slump. I turned my attention to where he stood, the girl, who I assumed was Fluttershy based on where she was standing held her gaze directly at the floor in font of her, ignoring the piles of fabric strewn across her little changing area. The other models nickered at the “faux-pas.” I wouldn't be surprised if a few of the other jealous models did this to her in the hopes that Hoity Toity would fire her on the spot. After all, if Hoity Toity fired you, you probably wouldn't work in this town again. “Fluttershy?! You cannot do that! They must stay on the racks or on you, but never ever on the floor!” “Oh, but...” she started to protest, blinking several times, likely to stave off tears. “I tried to tell her,” one of the models said as she shook her head mockingly. “Poor thing is just not used to nice clothes. It's not her fault she doesn't know how to handle nice clothes, the little two bit town she's from isn't exactly known for its haute couture.” She was a sweet little thing, one who was out of her element especially in the cut throat fashion industry. “But I didn't mean to...” “It's fine,” he sighed, putting his hoof to his forehead in frustration. “Just don't let it happen again. Now everypony get dressed, the fitting begins in five minutes!” The group that had been watching the entire thing happen disappeared as soon as Hoity Toity did, leaving Fluttershy alone to pick up the dresses that had been haphazardly thrown about. From where I stood I could see her desperately try to keep from sobbing right then and there. You were right to be worried. She's prettier than you. But... nopony deserves to be humiliated like that. I walked up to Fluttershy and gave her a light smile before helping her to hang up the dresses. “Don't worry about it. The girls who did this are just jealous and foalish, you'll blow them out of the water on the runway.” I smiled. “Thanks,” she squeaked out. Don't feel bad for her. She has a natural grace that mares like you take years trying to perfect. She will take jobs away from you and probably already has. I gave her a wan smile then made my way over to my changing room where I would finally get to try on the dress. * * * Runway is real life, there is no retouching. They want you to be perfect so the clothes hang on you perfectly. That had been my mantra for the past week, the mare in the mirror constantly reminded me of it whenever I took a bite of food or thought about skipping out on the gym. Hoity Toity's show was important for my career and if I didn't look stunning in that final dress, I would never forgive myself. So, as I stood in the tent in my little dressing area, staring at the mirror, I tried to reason with myself that, for today, I was perfect. All the calorie cutting and exercising I had done this week worked and I was going to fit into this perfect dress my agent has been raving about since I booked the job. But the problem with mirrors is that they are unforgiving in what they show you. They reflect every part of you as you are with no regard to your feelings. For a moment, I thought that I was perfect, but the mirror showed otherwise. The dress barely fits you, you are in no way out of the hot water. The show is tomorrow and if anything goes wrong, you'll only have yourself to blame. Hoity Toity is merciless when it comes to his Fashion Shows. He demanded perfection, even if that meant running through his show over and over again until he deemed it perfect. When he finally let us go, I felt relief. Finally, I could be away from the hot spotlight that was making me dizzy. It was a miracle I didn't stumble on the runway. “Would you like to go get something to eat with me?” Fluttershy asked, intercepting me as soon as I grabbed my bag. “I'm starving and I don't really know anypony in Manehattan...” “Me? Why?” “Well... uh... you're the only pony here who has been nice to me and I noticed you don't really talk to any of the other girls...” I struggled to think of an excuse to go home. Under any other circumstances I would gladly join Fluttershy, but this was Fashion Week and I was afraid that if I went out to eat with her, I wouldn't be able to control myself. What if I ate too much and didn't fit into that dress tomorrow? I would never forgive myself. “I just thought it would be nice to get to know some ponies here... it might make this whole experience more bearable I guess.” I fidgeted. “Well, I mean I would love to, it's just that I ate before the fitting...” “Oh ok... well you don't have to eat anything, if you don't want to. I just thought it would be nice to just go out and do something that isn't this... I mean if you don't mind.” “Sure... I know a place.” * * * I wasn't in the mood to deal with photographers and reporters, who thrived on reporting about models during Fashion Week. So Fluttershy and I donned large sun hats and glasses as we made our way through the tourist-ridden parts of the city to a tiny diner I knew. There was no such thing as a bad meal in Manehattan, especially for somepony who has never really been around Manehattan before. Even the diners offer some of the best food around and they don't judge if you spend over an hour staring at the large portion in front of you as you slowly pick and choose the parts of it you'll eat. I could tell choosing a tiny, near empty diner was the perfect spot for her too. She didn't seem to like the fanfare that had followed her around since Photo Finish first discovered her. I can't say I blame her, it's bad enough hearing from agents and photographers what's wrong with how you look, why bring the rest of Equestria into it? I glanced over the menu, mentally calculating how many calories I would be putting in my body with every order. Fluttershy eagerly put the menu down within minutes claiming she wanted a hayburger. Isn't it sad that she can eat anything she wants and still look gorgeous? I could eat anything I wanted, I reasoned. Probably not a hayburger, I didn't want to put over three hundred calories in my body because I would just spend the rest of the night exercising to make up for my moment of weakness. I skimmed the menu, looking for something, anything I could at least nibble on without feeling guilty. She never said you had to eat something. I didn't want Fluttershy to have to eat alone, that's rude. Everything was going to be at least three hundred calories, but perhaps some ice water would suffice? After all, ice cuts down on cravings maybe I could trick my stomach into thinking it's full. Ponies will get suspicious if you just get water. They will think there is something wrong with you. There isn't anything wrong with me. Try explaining that to them. When the waitress came to take our order I smiled and went with a green tea, after assuring myself it didn't have many calories and it would make my headache dissipate and assuring Fluttershy that yes, this was all I wanted because I ate earlier and I felt a cold coming on. “Thanks so much for coming here with me. These past few weeks have been kind of difficult for me,” Fluttershy said after she handed the waitress our menus. “I guess I'm still kind of surprised by all the commotion around me.” “Of course.” I smiled. “Anytime. And don't worry about the commotion, it will slow down after Fashion Week is over. It's really one of the few times of the year that ponies care about what models are doing.” “Thanks. I just hope it all ends soon. I would really prefer to be back home with my friends and my pets.” You're just a stand-in, she doesn't really want to be friends with you. And why would she? Nopony else does. We spent the time waiting for our orders, talking about our lives and where we were from. It was the most conversation I've had with anypony in a long time that wasn't about work and it was amazing, but when her food and my tea came down she looked at me pityingly. “Are you sure that's all you want?” She asked, pushing her plate slightly towards me. “Of course, I had a huge lunch earlier and I'm still full from it.” “Oh okay, well would you like one of my hay fries?” I hesitated, I didn't need one, but I wanted to be polite, so I nodded and picked out the smallest fry I could find. Are you really going to eat that? Just one wouldn't hurt, I reasoned, besides it was too late to put it down at this point. Fluttershy was watching me. I popped the fry in my mouth, the grease permeating my taste buds. I tried to tell myself it was just one small fry, it couldn't have had many calories in it, but the damage was done. At least the hunger pain subsided slightly. Chapter Three - The RunwayHoity Toity's clothes under the glare of those runway lights are unforgiving. The mare in the mirror reminded me. You had better hope that you are as perfect on the runway as you think you look in here. There was a flutter of activity as the seamstresses tried to make sure that the dress was runway ready. Tonight was the night that I would show that Fleur de Lis is still a name to be reckoned with in the fashion industry. If this went well, Hoity Toity would have to hire me as the face of his new line. “Fleur, that gown looks stunning on you,” Hoity Toity said. “Absolutely stunning!” I gazed into the mirror as well, a rush of pride flowed through me as I looked at myself in this gown. For a moment, the pride suppressed the voice of the mare in the mirror, but only for a moment. Yes, it is the most beautiful gown you have ever worn, but it is also the most important show you will ever walk. Don't ruin it. As soon as this show is over, I will never have to worry about another model taking my spotlight ever again. “Now, I expect you to stay absolutely in sync with me at all times. If you miss a cue I will make sure you regret it,” Hoity Toity reminded me as he circled the pedestal several times. Every once in a while he stopped to fix how the dress was hanging or a hem, but even though he wasn't looking at me, his words still had the same impact. “Of course,” I replied. “You don't have to worry about me.” “Glad to hear it.” He stopped and looked at me through the mirror, a small smile finding his way through his usually stoic face. “Now, what do you think of the dress?” “I love it,” I whispered. “Duh,” Hoity Toity replied smugly. “This dress is the culmination of my entire line. I want buyers will be chomping at the bit for it, so make it look good.” Right. It's all about the dress. Of course it is, why should anypony pay attention to you? The dress is on display, not you. You are just a glorified clothes hanger. Perhaps if you'd worked harder to better yourself, you would command more attention. He spent several more minutes with me to make sure that the dress was perfect before he disappeared back into the crowd of ponies buzzing around the tent to get ready for the show. I was left completely alone in my dressing area. I smiled at my reflection and she smiled back, and for a moment despite the pain I felt, I looked beautiful. “Wow, that's a really pretty dress.” In the corner of the mirror, I could see Fluttershy standing in the corner of my area already dressed in her first change of clothes. “Thanks, you look really nice in that outfit too!” “Thanks,” she squeaked out. Behind her I could see the crowds of ponies running around trying to get everything ready before the show started. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how many ponies it took to make sure this day went off without a hitch. How many ponies would I have let down if I didn't fit into this dress? “Are you excited for your first Fashion Week show?” I asked, shaking off the negative thoughts that had started to creep into my head. She looked up at me with a nervous smile and gave me a curt nod. “I suppose.” “You will love it. Once you get out there, you just feel... special and important. I know I do.” “I'm just not comfortable with being the center of attention, even if it is only for a few seconds...” Stage fright, it had plagued me as well when I was younger. That was an easy worry to remedy. I turned around to face her, but I stumbled as I turned, my vision blurred for a few moments as Fluttershy flew over to me and grabbed hold of me to help keep me balanced. For a few pregnant seconds, neither of us said anything as I slowly waited for my vision to return to normal. “Are you okay?” She asked. My headache returned, but I didn't want to tell her that. “Of course I am. I feel wonderful.” Mostly wonderful. “Oh okay.” “It's just this dress. It's beautiful, but very heavy. I must have turned to quickly.” I smiled. She didn't share my faux enthusiasm. “You look a little pale, how's your cold?” “Oh it's fine, hopefully the sniffles will subside until after I get off the runway.” “Well, if you need a good soup recipe, or anything at all really, I'm here.” “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I watched as she walked away from my dressing area. I felt a tad bit guilty about lying to Fluttershy especially since she has been the only pony who even ask about me, but it was necessary. Right? Why do you feel guilty? You haven't doing anything wrong, you are just trying to better yourself. It still felt wrong though. Don't be stupid, you know she won't understand. Nopony would understand. Nopony but me. Why don't you understand that I'm all you have? * * * “This is it, are you ready?” Hoity Toity asked me just as the last model walked back behind the curtain. The music swelled and I took a deep breath to steady myself, my headache had returned in full force from the loud music and harsh lights, but I was ready. This was my time to shine. Hoity Toity and I stepped onto the stage perfectly in sync and I could hear the crowd cheering at the sight of the dress. It was becoming harder to keep a blank expression on my face when really all I wanted to do was smile. How could I not? This was amazing experience and I was finally living my fillyhood dream. We stopped at the end of the runway, the roar of the audience was the only thing I could hear and the flashing of bulbs were the only thing I could see. They loved this dress, they loved Hoity Toity's show and maybe, just maybe they loved me too. We posed for the audience and gave them the chance to see the dress in all it's glory before Hoity Toity and I turned around in sync just like we practiced. It should have been fine. I practiced it hundreds of times yesterday, but this time I could feel the temperature increasing with every step I took. The heat just served to make the headache I had so desperately been trying to get rid of, come back in full force. The room began to sway and with one more step instead of seeing flashing cameras of the photographers along the runway, all I could see were the harsh stage lights swirling above my head as the ground disappeared from beneath me. And then it all went dark. Chapter Four - The MirrorWhat does it feel like right before you die? If I kept skipping meals would I feel anything before fading into oblivion? Or would the constant pangs of an empty stomach and a throbbing head be the last things I felt? I can't remember what the last things I felt on that runway were before it all went dark. I remember looking out into the crowd and feeling on top of the world, but in my mind there was no gap between falling on the runway and waking up several hours later in the bed in my hotel room. Cards, baskets and flowers adorned every possible free space, but otherwise it was just me alone in a large, empty hotel room. I could only imagine that after passing out on the runway in front of hundreds of important ponies that my agent had explained to everypony that I was suffering from a very bad cold and a slight case of exhaustion, but I would be better in no time. And they would believe her. Why wouldn't they? I pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed eager to grab a snack from one of the baskets in the room and I tried to make it a point to avoid the large mirror on the wall. I wanted to avoid looking myself in the eye because I didn't want to see her looking back at me with those judging eyes. It was bad enough I could hear her mocking me from the moment I opened my eyes, reminding me that I ruined everything. I grabbed a small chocolate from one of the baskets, hoping it would help my headache and would take my mind off of the awful day I've had. Put that down. You don't need sweets. There are too many calories in it. I had hoped she wouldn't see, that if I didn't look in the mirror she wouldn't exist today, but she was always there and she always had been. She curled up inside me like a cat waiting for the right moment to pounce on me and show me the way. Sometimes she's quiet, it's her way of tricking me into thinking that I'm in control, but she always comes back and I always listen to her. Sometimes I try to reason with her. Like now when I stand completely still in front of the basket, as I looked longingly at the food. The chocolates are small and I haven't eaten anything all day. I do need it, I'm hungry. You cannot be hungry for something with that many calories in it. There's plenty of fruit baskets, you could take a piece of fruit. “I'm hungry,” I said out loud. But one piece of chocolate will turn to two and two will turn into the entire bag. You'll get fat and you're going to need your looks if you want to revive your career after tonight. I glanced at myself in the mirror, she was right. I didn't want to get fat. I wanted to keep my career. After all, nopony wanted to hear anything other than a fast metabolism and good genetics is what keeps models looking so good. To say otherwise is career suicide. And I wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet. Author's Note I want to remind people of National Eating Disorder Awareness page: http://nedawareness.org/ because millions of people suffer from an eating disorder at some point in their life and oftentimes they and those around them don't see the signs until it is too late. And let me know if I missed any glaring spelling and grammar errors. IntroductionIt was the waiting that was more painful than the pangs in my empty stomach. I tried to stand as still as possible as the seamstress made any final adjustments to the closing gown for the show tomorrow. My publicist had reminded me many times already of how important this show was for my career. I was chosen to close the show. Hoity Toity's show. It was one of the biggest honors in the modeling world. Hoity Toity was the most important fashion designer in Equestria and he was incredibly picky about what models walked in his shows, and especially picky about which model would do the final walk down the runway with him at the end of the show. “Hoity wanted to let you know that he would like for you to lose five pounds to wear the dress,” my publicist told me just as the initial excitement for booking the spot ceased. “It is a one of a kind gown. You must design yourself to fit into the dress, not the other way around.” So, in anticipation of having to wear a one of a kind dress that was designed for somebody five pounds smaller than I was, I cut down on my consumption of food drastically. I would be lying if I said that it was the first time I had to do this. The day of fittings was the worst. I hadn't eaten breakfast, I refused to go near anypony for fear of their bad breath latching onto me since I refused to brush my teeth that morning. What if I accidentally swallowed some water? How would that affect my weight? Despite my ravaging thoughts, I stood completely still. The seamstress poked and prodded me with pins along the bottom of the dress. No mention of my weight so far today, but I didn't feel like I was in the clear just yet and the lack of communication from the seamstress did little to calm my nerves. She was taking her sweet time making the adjustments, dragging out this experience longer than it should have been. Finally, she looked up at me and smiled. “Perfect!” She announced. I admired my reflection in the mirror, the metallic gold dress appeared to have been poured onto my body like liquid gold and melting into a fan around my hind legs. It was a stunning effect and at the show tomorrow, once my hair and makeup were done to cover up all of my other flaws, it would look even better. Hoity Toity would be pleased. I let out a sigh of relief. I had done it. My career was safe once more and for the time being, I was perfect.
Chapter One - The Spotlight“Congratulations Fleur,” my publicist said at our morning meeting over breakfast. “Hoity Toity wants you to close his show during Fashion Week.” There it was: relief. This was the job I had hoped to get ever since I started to work as a fashion model. Hoity Toity was the most important designer in Equestria and most, if not all, serious models dreamed of being on his runway, let alone the star of his show. After all, his opinion went a long way in the fashion industry. Being chosen as the final model of the show was the biggest honor anypony in my career track could hope for. The model who walks down the runway along with the designer at the end of the show always wears the most glamorous outfit from the new line. Not to mention, Hoity Toity uses his Fashion Week show as a way to not only present his new collection, but also to showcase the face of said collection's campaign. And this time it was going to be my career that blossomed thanks to his show. It was a dream come true for the filly who grew up in a small town that may as well been called “Nowhere.” Nothing was near it, nopony had ever heard of it, and absolutely nothing ever happened there. For as long as I could remember, my only real dream in life had been to move somewhere more glamorous. Somewhere I could feel like I was making something of myself instead of just going through the motions. It felt like a far-fetched dream though, my dad's family had lived in this town for generations and I expected that I would too, but I always felt like I was cut from a different mold than everypony else in that town. My whole life, I always felt like other ponies could see right through me and could tell all the flaws I so desperately tried to hide with just one look. That was why I loved fashion. It was a shining beacon of hope for a filly whose life seemed so gray and monotonous. Whenever I opened up a fashion magazine, it seemed like everything and everypony in the industry seemed so colorful and full of life. The models and designers seemed to live extraordinary lives filled with colorful clothes and confident smiles. The models I saw poised in magazines seemed to exude so much confidence and beauty in the clothes they posed in that I thought there could be a bit left over for me, the filly from the middle of nowhere. I wanted to be just like them. I wanted ponies I have never met to look up to me and think of me as beautiful. More than anything, I aimed for perfection. So, as soon as I got the opportunity I moved to Manehattan to live my dream of becoming a model. I was going to be just like the models I saw in my fashion magazines. Getting started wasn't instantaneous. Several times my agent spoke to me after go-sees and told me exactly why the designer didn't like me. For some I was too short, sometimes I just didn't have the look they wanted, and for many I weighed too much. But after my first Fashion Week, my career began to gain momentum. A few important ponies who saw me walking down the runway liked me and booked me themselves and it spiraled from there, feeling like a whirlwind of opportunities that I thought would never slow down. And it didn't. Not exactly. But Manehattan's taste in models shifted, and the fresh-faced models that were coming to the scene were more in style with the demands of the designers and photographers. New personalities akin to Photo Finish's latest find, Fluttershy, were taking the scene by storm. I could feel my success slipping away. One couldn't blame me for being worried. “Yes, I am sure you are very happy, but this is an important job. Probably the most important job of your career,” my agent reminded me. I nodded along, taking a tiny bite of the fruit in front of me. My publicist had a habit of going off on tangents, and after finally having the peace of mind that I had booked my dream job, I just wanted to relax. “...and you look like you haven't exactly been pumping iron lately. Which brings me to Hoity Toity's one teeny tiny suggestion.” “Uh huh,” I responded, half paying attention. “Hoity Toity wants you to lose five pounds before his show. The dress is skin-tight and it will show any... errors in your figure.” I looked up, trying not to look as surprised as I felt. She said with such nonchalance that it seemed like she thought of it as something so minuscule, just an addition to my contract instead of a requirement. Hoity Toity had the power to make-or-break anypony's fashion career if they didn't adhere to his standards and he wouldn't hesitate to terminate my contract even if it was minutes before the show began. I have dieted to get and keep jobs before, ponies in the industry can be incredibly harsh especially towards newer models. I learned that the hard way after my first photoshoot. The mare who had worked on my make up before that first photoshoot didn't talk much, but she did put an inordinate amount of make-up on my face and made it a habit to ignore me even if I tried to make conversation with her which she often replied with a deep sigh and an eye-roll to the stallion working near her. “Models, right?” He chuckled in response. I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the photoshoot. A feat that turned out to be simple as nopony talked to me unless they were barking orders at me. “Ew, Fleur, pick up your head a little! You're holding it so low it looks like you have a double chin!” “Move that leg!” “Don't smile like that!” The amount of criticism I got during my first shoot was staggering. And, by the end of the shoot, I was ready to curl up in bed and cry, but I had to wait for my agent which meant that I had to stay and listen to a conversation that was being held between her, the designer, and the photographer on how I should stand, walk and hold myself in the future because only so much that can be fixed in post. It seemed foreign to me that my agent and the designer could stand around me and speak about nothing but my body and my waistline without ever actually saying a word to me. And yet, there I was, standing in front of a white backdrop with everypony staring at me, my eyes stinging from holding in the tears. As they spoke I couldn't help, but look down at my body in shame as I wondered why I had ever thought that I could do this in the first place when I obviously didn't have the right look and I definitely didn't have the awe-inspiring confidence all the models I looked up to, had. The day ended with the unanimous decision that I should lay off the hay fries, it would take less time manipulating the photos in the future. After that day, embarrassed by the conversation I was present for, I cut all fast food out of my diet. I hoped that by cutting those foods out I would never have to hear comments like that ever again, but even after that, I would still hear comments about my weight every now and then. And every time, the comment would cut through me like a knife. I know I'm not the only pony to face this, all models have. It is an unspoken rule in the fashion industry that you do what you have to do to look the part. If asked, you just say that you have a fast metabolism and are genetically blessed. You are never under any circumstances to ever even hint that you may have to go through some extreme measures that many models have to take every once in a while. Especially not to the media. One mention of that to the presses, and you can kiss your career goodbye. I suppose it's understandable. Brands don't want their lines to be associated with any kind of controversy since it can hurt sales. The job of the model is to help increase the sales while also giving the masses a look that ponies can aspire to. And, while the rational side of me knows that it isn't personal, the rational part of me is always overclouded by the part of me that was scared and self-conscious. So it always feels personal to me. None more so than this time. For the first time in years, I had the opportunity to spend part of my summer visiting my extended family in Prance. Summer is usually a slow time for bookings since designers are trying to get their line ready to debut at the beginning of fall. So, I jumped at the opportunity to join my parents on vacation for the first time in years. And, of course, since food is an important part of visiting family, I was prompted to eat a little more than I would have otherwise. When I returned to Manehattan, I hoped that nopony would notice that I hadn't stuck to my diet this summer, but apparently I was wrong. If Hoity Toity noticed that I gained weight, then who else noticed? What if other designers noticed? How many jobs have I lost to the new mare in town? I looked down at my plate which was still half covered in food, suddenly feeling self-conscious and pushed the remnants of my breakfast away, and mumbled under my breath that I was full. My agent just smiled and motioned for the waitress to come and take our plates. * * * As soon as I returned to my apartment, I hightailed it to the bathroom, and planted myself in front of the mirror. This summer had thrown me off my carefully planned out diet, I shouldn't have listened to my family this summer because now I was paying the price. I stared at myself in disbelief at my reflection, I didn't realize I looked like that. The mare in the mirror was bigger than I remember myself being, her pristine white coat barely seemed to have to stretch to cover the weight of her body. I almost couldn't believe this was me. How did I ever feel comfortable letting myself leave my apartment today? The mare in the mirror seemed to laugh at my pain. Oh sweetie. She sighed. Look at yourself, look at the fat hanging off you... it's disgusting, you're disgusting. I cringed. It hurt, but she was right, I was disgusting. Lucky for you, I'm here to help, she cooed. Her voice was soothing like a warm blanket surrounding me on a cold winter night, warm and inviting. So, I believed her.
Chapter Two - The FittingUntil this afternoon, I hadn't actually met Fluttershy. I had heard of her through the grapevine, of course. Photographers and designers adored her because she had the look that Manehattan designers were looking for this season. Models on the other hoof were less ecstatic about the new girl in town. In a way, I could understand. Fluttershy was Photo Finish's protegé and like Hoity Toity, her word in fashion goes far which is why it is so rare for fashion photographers (or anypony else in the fashion industry who isn't an agent) to specifically endorse a model, especially one that hadn't already been working on the modeling circuit. My agent had warned me about her from the moment she stepped onto the scene, constantly reminding me that she was my biggest competition because of Photo Finish's influence. I had never even met the girl, but she cast a huge shadow that seemed like it was slowly suffocating me. “Who lumped these clothes here?!” Hoity Toity cried out, breaking the silence of the afternoon slump. I turned my attention to where he stood, the girl, who I assumed was Fluttershy based on where she was standing held her gaze directly at the floor in font of her, ignoring the piles of fabric strewn across her little changing area. The other models nickered at the “faux-pas.” I wouldn't be surprised if a few of the other jealous models did this to her in the hopes that Hoity Toity would fire her on the spot. After all, if Hoity Toity fired you, you probably wouldn't work in this town again. “Fluttershy?! You cannot do that! They must stay on the racks or on you, but never ever on the floor!” “Oh, but...” she started to protest, blinking several times, likely to stave off tears. “I tried to tell her,” one of the models said as she shook her head mockingly. “Poor thing is just not used to nice clothes. It's not her fault she doesn't know how to handle nice clothes, the little two bit town she's from isn't exactly known for its haute couture.” She was a sweet little thing, one who was out of her element especially in the cut throat fashion industry. “But I didn't mean to...” “It's fine,” he sighed, putting his hoof to his forehead in frustration. “Just don't let it happen again. Now everypony get dressed, the fitting begins in five minutes!” The group that had been watching the entire thing happen disappeared as soon as Hoity Toity did, leaving Fluttershy alone to pick up the dresses that had been haphazardly thrown about. From where I stood I could see her desperately try to keep from sobbing right then and there. You were right to be worried. She's prettier than you. But... nopony deserves to be humiliated like that. I walked up to Fluttershy and gave her a light smile before helping her to hang up the dresses. “Don't worry about it. The girls who did this are just jealous and foalish, you'll blow them out of the water on the runway.” I smiled. “Thanks,” she squeaked out. Don't feel bad for her. She has a natural grace that mares like you take years trying to perfect. She will take jobs away from you and probably already has. I gave her a wan smile then made my way over to my changing room where I would finally get to try on the dress. * * * Runway is real life, there is no retouching. They want you to be perfect so the clothes hang on you perfectly. That had been my mantra for the past week, the mare in the mirror constantly reminded me of it whenever I took a bite of food or thought about skipping out on the gym. Hoity Toity's show was important for my career and if I didn't look stunning in that final dress, I would never forgive myself. So, as I stood in the tent in my little dressing area, staring at the mirror, I tried to reason with myself that, for today, I was perfect. All the calorie cutting and exercising I had done this week worked and I was going to fit into this perfect dress my agent has been raving about since I booked the job. But the problem with mirrors is that they are unforgiving in what they show you. They reflect every part of you as you are with no regard to your feelings. For a moment, I thought that I was perfect, but the mirror showed otherwise. The dress barely fits you, you are in no way out of the hot water. The show is tomorrow and if anything goes wrong, you'll only have yourself to blame. Hoity Toity is merciless when it comes to his Fashion Shows. He demanded perfection, even if that meant running through his show over and over again until he deemed it perfect. When he finally let us go, I felt relief. Finally, I could be away from the hot spotlight that was making me dizzy. It was a miracle I didn't stumble on the runway. “Would you like to go get something to eat with me?” Fluttershy asked, intercepting me as soon as I grabbed my bag. “I'm starving and I don't really know anypony in Manehattan...” “Me? Why?” “Well... uh... you're the only pony here who has been nice to me and I noticed you don't really talk to any of the other girls...” I struggled to think of an excuse to go home. Under any other circumstances I would gladly join Fluttershy, but this was Fashion Week and I was afraid that if I went out to eat with her, I wouldn't be able to control myself. What if I ate too much and didn't fit into that dress tomorrow? I would never forgive myself. “I just thought it would be nice to get to know some ponies here... it might make this whole experience more bearable I guess.” I fidgeted. “Well, I mean I would love to, it's just that I ate before the fitting...” “Oh ok... well you don't have to eat anything, if you don't want to. I just thought it would be nice to just go out and do something that isn't this... I mean if you don't mind.” “Sure... I know a place.” * * * I wasn't in the mood to deal with photographers and reporters, who thrived on reporting about models during Fashion Week. So Fluttershy and I donned large sun hats and glasses as we made our way through the tourist-ridden parts of the city to a tiny diner I knew. There was no such thing as a bad meal in Manehattan, especially for somepony who has never really been around Manehattan before. Even the diners offer some of the best food around and they don't judge if you spend over an hour staring at the large portion in front of you as you slowly pick and choose the parts of it you'll eat. I could tell choosing a tiny, near empty diner was the perfect spot for her too. She didn't seem to like the fanfare that had followed her around since Photo Finish first discovered her. I can't say I blame her, it's bad enough hearing from agents and photographers what's wrong with how you look, why bring the rest of Equestria into it? I glanced over the menu, mentally calculating how many calories I would be putting in my body with every order. Fluttershy eagerly put the menu down within minutes claiming she wanted a hayburger. Isn't it sad that she can eat anything she wants and still look gorgeous? I could eat anything I wanted, I reasoned. Probably not a hayburger, I didn't want to put over three hundred calories in my body because I would just spend the rest of the night exercising to make up for my moment of weakness. I skimmed the menu, looking for something, anything I could at least nibble on without feeling guilty. She never said you had to eat something. I didn't want Fluttershy to have to eat alone, that's rude. Everything was going to be at least three hundred calories, but perhaps some ice water would suffice? After all, ice cuts down on cravings maybe I could trick my stomach into thinking it's full. Ponies will get suspicious if you just get water. They will think there is something wrong with you. There isn't anything wrong with me. Try explaining that to them. When the waitress came to take our order I smiled and went with a green tea, after assuring myself it didn't have many calories and it would make my headache dissipate and assuring Fluttershy that yes, this was all I wanted because I ate earlier and I felt a cold coming on. “Thanks so much for coming here with me. These past few weeks have been kind of difficult for me,” Fluttershy said after she handed the waitress our menus. “I guess I'm still kind of surprised by all the commotion around me.” “Of course.” I smiled. “Anytime. And don't worry about the commotion, it will slow down after Fashion Week is over. It's really one of the few times of the year that ponies care about what models are doing.” “Thanks. I just hope it all ends soon. I would really prefer to be back home with my friends and my pets.” You're just a stand-in, she doesn't really want to be friends with you. And why would she? Nopony else does. We spent the time waiting for our orders, talking about our lives and where we were from. It was the most conversation I've had with anypony in a long time that wasn't about work and it was amazing, but when her food and my tea came down she looked at me pityingly. “Are you sure that's all you want?” She asked, pushing her plate slightly towards me. “Of course, I had a huge lunch earlier and I'm still full from it.” “Oh okay, well would you like one of my hay fries?” I hesitated, I didn't need one, but I wanted to be polite, so I nodded and picked out the smallest fry I could find. Are you really going to eat that? Just one wouldn't hurt, I reasoned, besides it was too late to put it down at this point. Fluttershy was watching me. I popped the fry in my mouth, the grease permeating my taste buds. I tried to tell myself it was just one small fry, it couldn't have had many calories in it, but the damage was done. At least the hunger pain subsided slightly.
Chapter Three - The RunwayHoity Toity's clothes under the glare of those runway lights are unforgiving. The mare in the mirror reminded me. You had better hope that you are as perfect on the runway as you think you look in here. There was a flutter of activity as the seamstresses tried to make sure that the dress was runway ready. Tonight was the night that I would show that Fleur de Lis is still a name to be reckoned with in the fashion industry. If this went well, Hoity Toity would have to hire me as the face of his new line. “Fleur, that gown looks stunning on you,” Hoity Toity said. “Absolutely stunning!” I gazed into the mirror as well, a rush of pride flowed through me as I looked at myself in this gown. For a moment, the pride suppressed the voice of the mare in the mirror, but only for a moment. Yes, it is the most beautiful gown you have ever worn, but it is also the most important show you will ever walk. Don't ruin it. As soon as this show is over, I will never have to worry about another model taking my spotlight ever again. “Now, I expect you to stay absolutely in sync with me at all times. If you miss a cue I will make sure you regret it,” Hoity Toity reminded me as he circled the pedestal several times. Every once in a while he stopped to fix how the dress was hanging or a hem, but even though he wasn't looking at me, his words still had the same impact. “Of course,” I replied. “You don't have to worry about me.” “Glad to hear it.” He stopped and looked at me through the mirror, a small smile finding his way through his usually stoic face. “Now, what do you think of the dress?” “I love it,” I whispered. “Duh,” Hoity Toity replied smugly. “This dress is the culmination of my entire line. I want buyers will be chomping at the bit for it, so make it look good.” Right. It's all about the dress. Of course it is, why should anypony pay attention to you? The dress is on display, not you. You are just a glorified clothes hanger. Perhaps if you'd worked harder to better yourself, you would command more attention. He spent several more minutes with me to make sure that the dress was perfect before he disappeared back into the crowd of ponies buzzing around the tent to get ready for the show. I was left completely alone in my dressing area. I smiled at my reflection and she smiled back, and for a moment despite the pain I felt, I looked beautiful. “Wow, that's a really pretty dress.” In the corner of the mirror, I could see Fluttershy standing in the corner of my area already dressed in her first change of clothes. “Thanks, you look really nice in that outfit too!” “Thanks,” she squeaked out. Behind her I could see the crowds of ponies running around trying to get everything ready before the show started. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how many ponies it took to make sure this day went off without a hitch. How many ponies would I have let down if I didn't fit into this dress? “Are you excited for your first Fashion Week show?” I asked, shaking off the negative thoughts that had started to creep into my head. She looked up at me with a nervous smile and gave me a curt nod. “I suppose.” “You will love it. Once you get out there, you just feel... special and important. I know I do.” “I'm just not comfortable with being the center of attention, even if it is only for a few seconds...” Stage fright, it had plagued me as well when I was younger. That was an easy worry to remedy. I turned around to face her, but I stumbled as I turned, my vision blurred for a few moments as Fluttershy flew over to me and grabbed hold of me to help keep me balanced. For a few pregnant seconds, neither of us said anything as I slowly waited for my vision to return to normal. “Are you okay?” She asked. My headache returned, but I didn't want to tell her that. “Of course I am. I feel wonderful.” Mostly wonderful. “Oh okay.” “It's just this dress. It's beautiful, but very heavy. I must have turned to quickly.” I smiled. She didn't share my faux enthusiasm. “You look a little pale, how's your cold?” “Oh it's fine, hopefully the sniffles will subside until after I get off the runway.” “Well, if you need a good soup recipe, or anything at all really, I'm here.” “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I watched as she walked away from my dressing area. I felt a tad bit guilty about lying to Fluttershy especially since she has been the only pony who even ask about me, but it was necessary. Right? Why do you feel guilty? You haven't doing anything wrong, you are just trying to better yourself. It still felt wrong though. Don't be stupid, you know she won't understand. Nopony would understand. Nopony but me. Why don't you understand that I'm all you have? * * * “This is it, are you ready?” Hoity Toity asked me just as the last model walked back behind the curtain. The music swelled and I took a deep breath to steady myself, my headache had returned in full force from the loud music and harsh lights, but I was ready. This was my time to shine. Hoity Toity and I stepped onto the stage perfectly in sync and I could hear the crowd cheering at the sight of the dress. It was becoming harder to keep a blank expression on my face when really all I wanted to do was smile. How could I not? This was amazing experience and I was finally living my fillyhood dream. We stopped at the end of the runway, the roar of the audience was the only thing I could hear and the flashing of bulbs were the only thing I could see. They loved this dress, they loved Hoity Toity's show and maybe, just maybe they loved me too. We posed for the audience and gave them the chance to see the dress in all it's glory before Hoity Toity and I turned around in sync just like we practiced. It should have been fine. I practiced it hundreds of times yesterday, but this time I could feel the temperature increasing with every step I took. The heat just served to make the headache I had so desperately been trying to get rid of, come back in full force. The room began to sway and with one more step instead of seeing flashing cameras of the photographers along the runway, all I could see were the harsh stage lights swirling above my head as the ground disappeared from beneath me. And then it all went dark.
Chapter Four - The MirrorWhat does it feel like right before you die? If I kept skipping meals would I feel anything before fading into oblivion? Or would the constant pangs of an empty stomach and a throbbing head be the last things I felt? I can't remember what the last things I felt on that runway were before it all went dark. I remember looking out into the crowd and feeling on top of the world, but in my mind there was no gap between falling on the runway and waking up several hours later in the bed in my hotel room. Cards, baskets and flowers adorned every possible free space, but otherwise it was just me alone in a large, empty hotel room. I could only imagine that after passing out on the runway in front of hundreds of important ponies that my agent had explained to everypony that I was suffering from a very bad cold and a slight case of exhaustion, but I would be better in no time. And they would believe her. Why wouldn't they? I pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed eager to grab a snack from one of the baskets in the room and I tried to make it a point to avoid the large mirror on the wall. I wanted to avoid looking myself in the eye because I didn't want to see her looking back at me with those judging eyes. It was bad enough I could hear her mocking me from the moment I opened my eyes, reminding me that I ruined everything. I grabbed a small chocolate from one of the baskets, hoping it would help my headache and would take my mind off of the awful day I've had. Put that down. You don't need sweets. There are too many calories in it. I had hoped she wouldn't see, that if I didn't look in the mirror she wouldn't exist today, but she was always there and she always had been. She curled up inside me like a cat waiting for the right moment to pounce on me and show me the way. Sometimes she's quiet, it's her way of tricking me into thinking that I'm in control, but she always comes back and I always listen to her. Sometimes I try to reason with her. Like now when I stand completely still in front of the basket, as I looked longingly at the food. The chocolates are small and I haven't eaten anything all day. I do need it, I'm hungry. You cannot be hungry for something with that many calories in it. There's plenty of fruit baskets, you could take a piece of fruit. “I'm hungry,” I said out loud. But one piece of chocolate will turn to two and two will turn into the entire bag. You'll get fat and you're going to need your looks if you want to revive your career after tonight. I glanced at myself in the mirror, she was right. I didn't want to get fat. I wanted to keep my career. After all, nopony wanted to hear anything other than a fast metabolism and good genetics is what keeps models looking so good. To say otherwise is career suicide. And I wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet. Author's Note I want to remind people of National Eating Disorder Awareness page: http://nedawareness.org/ because millions of people suffer from an eating disorder at some point in their life and oftentimes they and those around them don't see the signs until it is too late. And let me know if I missed any glaring spelling and grammar errors.
IntroductionIt was the waiting that was more painful than the pangs in my empty stomach. I tried to stand as still as possible as the seamstress made any final adjustments to the closing gown for the show tomorrow. My publicist had reminded me many times already of how important this show was for my career. I was chosen to close the show. Hoity Toity's show. It was one of the biggest honors in the modeling world. Hoity Toity was the most important fashion designer in Equestria and he was incredibly picky about what models walked in his shows, and especially picky about which model would do the final walk down the runway with him at the end of the show. “Hoity wanted to let you know that he would like for you to lose five pounds to wear the dress,” my publicist told me just as the initial excitement for booking the spot ceased. “It is a one of a kind gown. You must design yourself to fit into the dress, not the other way around.” So, in anticipation of having to wear a one of a kind dress that was designed for somebody five pounds smaller than I was, I cut down on my consumption of food drastically. I would be lying if I said that it was the first time I had to do this. The day of fittings was the worst. I hadn't eaten breakfast, I refused to go near anypony for fear of their bad breath latching onto me since I refused to brush my teeth that morning. What if I accidentally swallowed some water? How would that affect my weight? Despite my ravaging thoughts, I stood completely still. The seamstress poked and prodded me with pins along the bottom of the dress. No mention of my weight so far today, but I didn't feel like I was in the clear just yet and the lack of communication from the seamstress did little to calm my nerves. She was taking her sweet time making the adjustments, dragging out this experience longer than it should have been. Finally, she looked up at me and smiled. “Perfect!” She announced. I admired my reflection in the mirror, the metallic gold dress appeared to have been poured onto my body like liquid gold and melting into a fan around my hind legs. It was a stunning effect and at the show tomorrow, once my hair and makeup were done to cover up all of my other flaws, it would look even better. Hoity Toity would be pleased. I let out a sigh of relief. I had done it. My career was safe once more and for the time being, I was perfect.
