It’s not nice when someone’s staring at you and you have no idea why. It’s much more unnerving when you have no idea who this person is. Oh yeah! I’ve had to stare at her out the corner of my eye because of course; you can’t help not staring at someone when they’re staring at you. This woman is no different than other women like her around – she blends in perfectly which is probably why she thinks I wouldn’t notice her staring at me. She’s still doing it just sitting there, unmoving like if she stares at me long enough, she would solve some kind of mystery. Or maybe she’s not staring at me but simply staring into space like I usually do before realising I'm staring at someone random.
But, no! She picked up a video-call just now and she STILL stared at me. And now she’s moved on from staring at me to comparing me. There’s something on her phone which she continues to study before looking up at me and each time, just as if this is the first time she’s discovered something secret and hidden, she starts. What could she possible be comparing me to? I’ve heard of models being discovered by some random scout finding them in normal places like malls or coffee shops like this. But this is different. Surely if she was a scout, she would have come up to me by now? This woman seems reluctant to even make big movements where she’s sitting – as if any change she brings unto herself would make me fade into tiny pixels like I see on old sci-fi programmes.
I swallow the last of my coffee and pay while formulating a plan in my head. See, as much as she’s been discovering me, I’ve been watching her too and now I must find out what is on that phone. The next face for a clothing brand perhaps? I can’t possibly think of what else it might be. Slowly, to prevent from frightening her with my actions, I place my purse in my rucksack and hitch it over my right then left arm like I usually do. I stand up aiming to walk to the left, turn at right angles and then finally know what is so interesting about me but then, without completely processing my thoughts, I act and do a 180 (degree) turn. She drinks me in, completely forgetting about her phone and by now, I'm openly staring at her too wondering if I know her from somewhere but my mind comes up blank. And then she does something a model scout would never do – she begins to cry. Not loud racking attention-seeking sobs but gentle, sincere tears that I want to comfort her and wrap my arms around her like I’ve seen people do in those old soap-operas I watch on DT.
There's more btw but I cut it short.
But, no! She picked up a video-call just now and she STILL stared at me. And now she’s moved on from staring at me to comparing me. There’s something on her phone which she continues to study before looking up at me and each time, just as if this is the first time she’s discovered something secret and hidden, she starts. What could she possible be comparing me to? I’ve heard of models being discovered by some random scout finding them in normal places like malls or coffee shops like this. But this is different. Surely if she was a scout, she would have come up to me by now? This woman seems reluctant to even make big movements where she’s sitting – as if any change she brings unto herself would make me fade into tiny pixels like I see on old sci-fi programmes.
I swallow the last of my coffee and pay while formulating a plan in my head. See, as much as she’s been discovering me, I’ve been watching her too and now I must find out what is on that phone. The next face for a clothing brand perhaps? I can’t possibly think of what else it might be. Slowly, to prevent from frightening her with my actions, I place my purse in my rucksack and hitch it over my right then left arm like I usually do. I stand up aiming to walk to the left, turn at right angles and then finally know what is so interesting about me but then, without completely processing my thoughts, I act and do a 180 (degree) turn. She drinks me in, completely forgetting about her phone and by now, I'm openly staring at her too wondering if I know her from somewhere but my mind comes up blank. And then she does something a model scout would never do – she begins to cry. Not loud racking attention-seeking sobs but gentle, sincere tears that I want to comfort her and wrap my arms around her like I’ve seen people do in those old soap-operas I watch on DT.
There's more btw but I cut it short.