Beautiful(21)
“I can’t do it, Stephanie. I’m done. Not even for you. It’s not possible.”
“Careers can end very quickly, and you can’t revive them. You’ll regret this. Don’t be foolish. The designers and the magazines will be pissed,” she said in a taut voice, and Véronique wanted to get off the phone. Her threats were pointless. The terrorists had ended her career much faster than any designer could have, or even Stephanie. But she didn’t want to be all over the tabloids with the truth, and become a tragic figure to be pitied. She had to live with the face she had now, and the consequences, for the rest of her life, and wanted to make her exit quietly, with dignity.
“The decision isn’t reversible. I’m retiring, Stephanie. I want to leave on a high. It’s not negotiable. I’m grateful for everything you did for me. It was fabulous, but I’m done.”
“All you girls make such damn stupid decisions. You can’t rewind the movie once you’re out. Although with your face, you probably could. But you’re taking a tremendous chance. Careers like yours don’t happen often, and they can end overnight.” The bombs had ended hers in seconds.
“I know that. They were the four best years of my life. I’m going to leave it at that. I’m still recovering from the trauma.” She thought that might work better.
“The best way to do that is get back to work. I’m sure it was awful. But you’ll just get depressed if you sit around and brood about it. I’ll get you out of it this time. But you’ve already been gone for six months. Don’t push your luck.” She was fighting to keep one of the biggest models they’d ever had, and one of the best. She had never balked at work before, but Stephanie had no clue what Véronique was dealing with, or what she was asking. It would have been the shock of her life if she saw her.
“I do mean it. I’m done.”
“Get some therapy, finish your surgeries, and stay in touch. I’ll do what I can but I can’t keep everyone at bay forever. There’s always a new face that comes along and they fall in love with. You can become a piece of history in the blink of an eye. No one is irreplaceable.”
“I know that. Thank you for calling. I’m sorry I can’t do it for you. I would if I could.” She tried to sound businesslike and firm, despite the knot in her stomach.
“Don’t lose sight of what’s important,” Stephanie warned her. “Your career and your face on the cover of Vogue is who you are. Without that, you’re nothing,” she said harshly, but Véronique knew she believed it. She hung up then, and Véronique sat staring into space for a minute, thinking about what she’d said. That without her career, and her face on every magazine cover, she was nothing. If that was true, then she was nothing now, and she didn’t want to believe that. Modeling careers didn’t last forever, sometimes only for a year or two, or five or ten at best. So what happened to those women after that? They ceased to exist and became nothing? From her four years in the business, she knew that many models believed that they didn’t even exist unless they were photographed and walked in the shows during Fashion Week.
Véronique’s career had ended sooner than planned, but she didn’t intend to stop existing because of it. She was still a person, a human being, and being beautiful was not the only thing she was capable of. There had to be more to life than that, whatever Stephanie thought. The value system was seriously flawed, and women believed it, that if they weren’t beautiful, they didn’t count. When their beauty faded, their life would be over. It was a myth that had women chasing the fountain of youth, spending fortunes to defy time and age, or desperate when they lost their looks. Véronique had lost hers brutally, violently, in less than an instant, but she could not allow her face to define her life, or her value as a human being. Being a model was every young girl’s dream. It meant she was beautiful and validated her, and for the rest of time she would be chasing that validation to reassure herself that she mattered and was alive.
Suddenly, it didn’t seem good enough. It wasn’t enough to throw away all your values for. What about less attractive women? Didn’t they have a right to be valid too, or did only the beautiful count in the game of life? Suddenly everything about it seemed wrong to Véronique. She wanted to prove Stephanie wrong. She hated everything those values represented, and didn’t want to be a part of it. She had to find another way to validate herself, and live a life to be proud of. It was a turning point for her. Suddenly she needed air and wanted to get out of the apartment. She grabbed her mother’s navy blue jacket, put it on, picked up her keys, and shoved her surgical mask in her pocket. She didn’t want to wear it. She shouldn’t have to. She didn’t want to upset anyone with her damaged face, but she didn’t want to be forced into hiding either.
There was no one coming in or out of the building when she left, and she turned down the street, and went for a walk, thinking about what Stephanie had said. All that mattered to her were the beauties. It was her business. But there were so many beautiful women in the world who didn’t have pretty faces. Some of them shone from the inside, which seemed more important to Véronique now. Some people had a light that shone so brightly from within, you didn’t even see their faces. Véronique wanted to be one of them, not be a model. She missed her face the way it had been, but maybe she could learn to live without it. Even without her lost beauty, she was a human being.