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Emmie felt on top of the world, in all honesty. With Kat, she really felt free. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted, even things like this that would be deemed incredibly inappropriate to anyone else. She giggled again as Kat slapped her lightly, her hair tumbling forward as she pecked her lips one more time. 

Moving off of the other girl, she jumped down off the bar and waited for Kat to get off too. It was her turn. Quickly she pulled her dress up and over her head, thankful she'd chosen to wear the matching pair of black lingerie she'd received as a gift from a designer. As much as she'd loved licking the salt off of her best friend's skin, she was even more excited for this. She longed to feel the other girl's tongue on her skin again, feeling like she hadn't in ages when really it hadn't been all that long actually. 

This is How We Do || Kemmi

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Em continued to lick the salt off of her best friend. She couldn't get over how great it was to have someone like Kat in her life. Someone who didn't give a fuck what other people thought about her, just like Emmie. She'd never think of doing this with any of her other friends, knowing they'd be too worried about what people would think to even consider it, even if they weren't famous. But with Kat it was the opposite, people would think it was odd if they didn't do it. 

That was why she was with Kat so much, it was just natural. When she was finished with the salt, she looked up, and the bartender handed her her shot. She downed it without hesitation, smiling at the burning sensation it gave down her throat. People in the crowd watching cheered and that encouraged her even more. 

This is How We Do || Kemmi

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i dont need a boyfriend to keep me warm this winter i need a givenchy aw13 black velvet jacket with leather shoulder detailing

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vintage 1950s prom dress by elsa billgren

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{Let's pretend this is instrumental because i couldn't find an actual track} 

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over-the-fashion-style:

street style and fashion blog xx

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The world is watching || 001

Emiline splashed water on her face lightly, trying to calm herself down. She was nervous, her heart beating nearly out of her chest. She had everything to loose with this, and she knew it. Everyone knew it. She'd been in photo shoots of course, that was nothing new. She knew how to model. But runway was a different story completely. Fashion week was something she'd always wanted to be a part of, ever since she was a kid. And now here was her chance. 

She turned off the faucet, making her way from the bathrooms to the open area back stage where the other models were being worked on. Hair and makeup mostly, and any last minute adjustments to the clothes of course. The blonde sat in front of one of the makeup stations, waiting for one of the artists to be available. Her head was a mess of thoughts as she sat there, makeup being applied to her pretty face. 

What if she wasn't good enough? What if she fell? The sixteen year old was young for runway, and especially young to be the main event. She'd barely been in the professional world for a few months, and already she had a job like this, which was insane. Some people worked runway for years and never got to be the main event. Or at least, wearing it. But she was. The girl who'd been a timid fifteen year old less than a year before, was the one chosen to showcase the most superfluous, outstanding piece of clothing in the show's entire collection. If that was her, then she thought maybe someone had to see something good enough about her. 

Emiline stood when her hair and make up was finished, and was ushered over to the rack of clothes that she would be showing, ending with the glittering masterpiece. Her first outfit was simple, a white sheer blouse and tight black pants, as the show started off simply. After that would be the slightly more intimidating black number that she was sure she might trip on, but hadn't in the rehearsals. 

~

Dressed and ready, she stood at the front of the line back stage, feeling her heart stutter as the lights dimmed and the music started up. Putting on her best blank face, the petite girl stepped forward, and into the light. She was surprised that she didn't fumble or loose her footing, but she didn't let her shock show on her face. The designer had specifically prepped them for this, telling them that they were to look blank, walk robotically, and not acknowledge the crowd. That, contrasting with the music, would make for a breath taking show. 

As Emiline continued forward, she had to agree that Nico, their designer, had been entirely right. She barely noticed the the awed crowd far below her. It might have had something to do with the bright lights beaming down on the tall runway, and the absolute pitch black of the seating, but Em decided she'd thank her confidence for part of it.

She came to the first turn, moving flawlessly with not a single misstep. The runway had three parts, the first walk, which was about fifty feet, a ninety degree turn which only lasted about ten feet, and then another turn going back in the direction she'd come. It seemed simple, and really it was if you weren't over thinking. The floor beneath her was lit with fairy lights spanning the entire walk, like a small guide as to which way to go. 

By the time she was off the runway, it was almost time to get back on, most of the girls already having started their first walks. She nearly sprinted in her nine inch heels towards her station, not letting the flurry of hands helping her undress bother her. She knew she'd have to get used to it. As she slipped into the black dress, she tried to clear her head and remember how she'd just done that. It hadn't been so hard out there, but now she was nervous all over again. 

Her second walk was one that surprised her even more than the first. As she walked cooly down the runway, this time she was met with welcoming applause, startling her little as her last walk had been nearly silent save for the deafening music. She fought hard to keep a smile for slipping easily onto her face, knowing that composure was the most important thing in that moment. The clapping was unnerving, mostly because she couldn't see it's source. 

~ 

Backstage was even more hectic than before when she got there, with people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. "EM!" Called one of the stylists that had been helping her with her previous outfits. "You need to hurry you have a hair change too." This was news to Emiline, who was positive she was staying in her braided updo for the duration of the show.

Still she went along with it, stepping quickly into the gorgeous dress and shivering at the feeling of the metallic feeling lining. She let her hair quickly be yanked down, fighting the urge to complain about the feeling for the pins harshly pulled from her scalp. She was surprised when the stylist didn't do anything else with her dishevelled hair aside from spray it with hair spray, leaving it tumbling messily around her face. 

For the final walk, she wouldn't be walking alone, she knew. The designer, Nico, often walked with his best piece at the end, accepting his applause and credits then and there, in the spotlight with the models. She smiled brightly as the handsome man in his twenties made his way over to her. "I want you to smile at the end." He told her, which also hadn't been in the plans. She was supposed to remain neutral as they stood at the ten foot stretch, allowing everyone to see the piece and take in it's effect. "Trust me Emmie, we'll dazzle them." He promised, and she nodded, taking his word for it. 

She'd never been called anything but Em or Emiline before, and this new nick name suited her she thought. Not that it would catch on. She kept her face neutral while thinking through this her walk even and reassured with Nico's arm looped in hers. She wasn't nervous anymore, knowing she'd rocked those first two looks, and that she would rock this one. At the end of the walk, she stood perfectly still, letting loose the smile she'd been fighting all night finally. The invisible crowd in front of her, who she knew were gawking up at her dress, cheered even louder than they had before, and didn't stop until Nico began his brief thanks. 

Her breath caught in her throat as she heard him specially thank her, using the new nick name. Normally, models were props, and never thanked. Usually it was all about the clothes and not the girls in them. She felt proud of herself, in that moment. And as the moment ended, she still continued to feel as if she was walking on air as she floated back down the run way and back stage where people were already celebrating how well the show had gone. 

Emiline decided that this would be it. This had worked for her, better than she could have ever hoped for. So this was who she would be from now on. Not shy or nervous, but confident in herself, and in her ability to work just as hard as anyone else in the biz, no matter how young and inexperienced she was. She wasn't the shy girl from Brooklyn. She was Emmie Roux, fucking supermodel. 

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