Futuristic Model. ll Introduction. ll Chapter One.

Futuristic Model. II Introduction.

( Cassie's note ) : So, new, different, totally out of my league story I decided to write. No, I'm not blaming it on Justin Bieber. But, I do blame it on Nicholas Sparks, or Nora Roberts. My favorite authors whom write romance novels. I have no life. My day consists of many hours on the phone with Brandon, and romance novels. Though, I'm not gonna lie, been slackin' on my reading. ANYWHO. Time to introduce these characters, to this new story, I'll stick to. It's so different. I hope ya'll like it.

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Brooke srutted down the stage, hand on her hips, grinning like she just won the lottery. "This is almost over, grin and bear it," she told herself. Spinning back around on her heels, she ran into twenty-seven year old Derek Ben Sparks. He was the company's male model, the best of all. Rolling her eyes, resisting his, she brushed past him, and went and talked with the other models. "Brooke, brooke!" Anne called, putting a firm, friendly hand on Brooke's shoulder, smiled. "You should've heard what Mr. Hunk had to say about you, when you were on stage." Anne made a throaty meow with her voice, giggling. Brooke laughed, arching a brow. "Is that so? What exactly did he say, hmmm?" She asked, suddenly interested. "He said something about your legs, about the way your hips swung side to side when you walked, and oh, don't forget that .... moan, when you sent a wink towards the judges." Anne revealed, craning her neck to watch Derek rip his shirt off, and toss it in the crowd. Anne enthusiastically licked her lips, just for Brooke to push her shoulder playfully. "Now, now, kitty. Down. He's just like a teenage boy, full of horomones. Nothing he said, was true. He just probably hasn't gotten any lately." Brooke winked, turning on her heels, to make way towards her dressing room. The sound of whistles, and 'You so sexy''s being thrown from girls who has no self-compostion. Rolling her eyes, she sat down in her chair, and began taking her hair down from it's neat pony tail, and ran her fingers through it.

"Having a nice time, there?" Derek asked, leaning aginst the door jamb. She looked up at him in her mirror, cocking her head slightly to the side, giving him a 'kiss my ass' grin. "Damn right, you?" He winked. "Hell yeah. Who wouldn't be?" Grunting, disgusted with him, she laughed. "Get out of here, so I can change, and go home." Derek ran his tan fingers through his golden, sun streaked mane. "If you so badly wanna go home, you're gonna have to change infront of me, because I'm not leaving." Grazing her tongue over her straight, white teeth, she stood up, pushed him out of the door way, shut the door and locked it. "Whoops," Brooke said sarcastically, laughing. "Damn you!" Derek whined, leaning his forehead aginst Brooke's door. "Damn me, indeed." She agreed, stripping out of her white, too tight dress, shimmying into sweat pants, putting her hair over her shoulders, slipping into a white v-neck tshirt. Opening the door, Derek was still there. His gaze slid down to her bare feet. "No shoes?"He asked, lightly scratching the back of his neck. She shook her head, her heels she wore for the performance, dangling from her manicured fingers. "After wearing these for four hours? No. Infact, hell no." Walking past him, she pushed the main door open, stepping outside into what sunshine was left from the hot day. Following Brooke, he laughed, amused she kept him on his toes all the time. "Have a good night, Brooke." Brooke paused, felt her stomach flip, and turned around, looking into his eyes. "No... 'Hey, let's go to my house and make love' or ... 'Let's have dinner, just you and me..' tonight?" Derek shrugged, pursing his lips. "Not tonight. I'm tired of getting rejected." Brooke smiled, crossing her arms over her breasts. "Finally. Now then. Good night, Derek. I'll see you Monday." Croutching down slightly, she climbed into her corvet, put the top down, and span away. "What a woman." Derek whispered, grinning. "My woman, soon enough."