I am Hollywood

[Chapter 1095: The Food Chain in the Fashion World]

After Gisele spoke, she waved her hand again to summon her makeup artist, showing no intention of continuing to bargain with Tom Corey.

Seeing the confident look on the young woman's face, Tom Corey felt a surge of frustration. He glanced around; while the other models in the tent seemed oblivious to his predicament, he could sense the air was thick with schadenfreude.

He suddenly found himself reminiscing about a decade ago, or even five years back. Back then, executives from high-profile brands like him ruled the top of the fashion food chain. Even the top supermodels wouldn't dare act so imperiously in front of them, while lesser-known models were merely prey in their eyes.

In just a few years, everything had changed. The rise of the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show had firmly cemented the concept of supermodels in the public eye. While top supermodels saw their personal incomes soar, their status and social influence within the industry skyrocketed too. Their dependence on traditional fame avenues like magazine covers and runway shows diminished significantly. Now, the tables had turned; fashion magazines needed supermodels on their covers to boost sales, and brand shows couldn't draw crowds without these superstars.

Even though the fashion world was rife with media critiques of the Victoria's Secret shows for lacking sophistication, no one could deny that the rigorous selection standards set by Eric Williams ensured that every angel in the Victoria's Secret lineup was genuinely deserving of the title "supermodel." Given their broad social recognition, even the most aloof luxury brands couldn't ignore their existence. In fact, if a high-street brand's show didn't feature a single supermodel, it would be met with skepticism regarding its influence.

As for who qualified as a supermodel, five years ago, it could be achieved through repeated promotion by fashion media. Nowadays, however, a model who couldn't make it on the Victoria's Secret runway couldn't be regarded as a supermodel; self-declaration would only elicit laughter. In recent years, not just the general public, but even fashion media, had begun to recognize this standard.

The tension lingered for a moment, but with Gisele steadfastly refusing to budge, Tom Corey had no choice but to concede. He hurriedly left the show tent and made his way to a cafe across from Bryant Park.

...

Waiting at the cafe were a man and two women. As Tom Corey entered, they stood up. The man, Paul Roland, in his fifties with messy curly hair and sunglasses, was the founder and president of WM management company.

Of the two women, one appeared to be an assistant, her looks quite ordinary, while the other was tall with a petite face and slim lips, seemingly always wearing a slight smile.

Inside the heated cafe, the woman didn't wear a coat, her fitted black wool sweater and white high-waisted pants showcased her perfect body proportions. Even though Tom Corey was used to beautiful women, he couldn't help but steal glances at the model named Carmen Kass, feeling a tinge of regret.

Once Gisele Bundchen set her sights on her, Carmen could forget about making it in the fashion world. Backed by Eric Williams, that Brazilian girl and her circle were just a pack of greedy little wolves. The three newly available endorsement slots from the Victoria's Secret team last year had the whole modeling industry in a frenzy, but now two had already gone to Gisele and her close friend, Coco Gauff, while the fate of the last one remained uncertain.

Noticing Tom Corey's glance at Carmen Kass, Paul Roland felt uneasy. He took off his sunglasses, shook hands with Tom, and eagerly asked, "Tom, how did it go?"

Tom shook his head at the waiter approaching and clearly had no intention of staying for coffee. He replied, "Sorry, Paul, I tried my best."

Disappointment washed over Paul's face, not just because of the show he had lost, but because Carmen had already missed out on most of the runway opportunities this fashion week. He had hoped to get her onto the CK finale show, thinking it might lead to a reconciliation with Gisele. But now, it was clear there was no chance for that.

Seeing Paul struggle for words, Tom glanced again at Carmen and said, "Well, I have to run; the show is about to start, so I need to get back."

...

Paul stood again and personally escorted Tom out of the cafe. He cast a sympathetic glance at Carmen, who looked mournfully back at him. He sighed internally.

The original backbone of WM was Kate Moss, but in recent years, that waif-like beauty had fallen out of fashion. WM could only be considered a second-tier modeling agency; Kate's dwindling popularity led to the company's influence plummeting.

To turn things around, Paul had discovered this Estonian girl last year and poured resources into helping her win the 'Model of the Year' title at a VH1 model competition, attempting to groom her into WM's new pillar. However, after some mishaps in promotional strategies -- let's be honest, major blunders -- his firm had foolishly compared her to the recently dominant Gisele Bundchen in a fashion magazine release, hoping to ride on her coattails.

Certainly, if they could just step on Gisele, that would be even better.

Carmen Kass possessed a figure rivaling Gisele's, and her beauty overshadowed that of the supermodel. However, while aspirations were nice, Paul realized he had severely underestimated Gisele Bundchen's impact, or more accurately, Eric Williams' affection for this Brazilian girl.

Paul was well aware of the relationship between Gisele and Eric. After six months of effort, failing to secure Carmen a place during this critical fashion season, compounded by Gisele's suppression, meant there was little hope for the future.

Now, it was time to give up on Carmen Kass.

While Paul Roland could disregard Gisele's hostility, he couldn't afford to ignore the powerful Eric Williams behind her. Even without Carmen, WM had a few other models vying for a spot in the Victoria's Secret show, but if Carmen were to provoke Gisele's powerful ally, the entire WM agency might as well kiss its future goodbye.

After a moment of silence, Paul finally said to Carmen, "How about this, Carmen? You take a break for a while; skip Europe."

Carmen, who had held some expectation, swayed as if about to crumple. She stepped forward, pleading, "Paul, they haven't said they're replacing me for the Burberry opening yet, have they?"

"I'll help you handle that; let's deal with the fashion season first," Paul replied as he pulled his sunglasses back on, indifferent to Carmen's expression. He turned to her assistant and said, "Camila, take Carmen home."

"Yes, Mr. Roland," said the assistant named Camila, nodding as she watched Paul leave in his car before pulling Carmen along to the roadside.

...

Once in a Chrysler, Carmen finally lost her composure, collapsing against the seat and crying, "How can she treat me like this? How can she treat me like this? How can she treat me like this? @$%%#&!"

Camila, hearing the sounds from the back, remained silent, noting some unintelligible Estonian words mixed in with Carmen's anguish as she started the car.

Having spent considerable time in the industry, she was accustomed to the cutthroat nature of modeling, and even within the tiny WM agency, there was plenty of competition. It was expected for a renowned model to try to undermine any newcomer that could threaten her position.

Still, Camila reflected on how fortunate Gisele was to have won over Eric Williams.

Ironically, the girl before her, whom she could only consider a 'newcomer', was actually a couple of years older than Gisele, who had already been famous for three years.

By that measure, there was a five-year gap between them -- a significant span of time in the fashion world, essentially marking a complete generational shift among models.

As the car drove on, Carmen transitioned from loud sobs to quiet cries, eventually falling silent.

When Camila parked outside an apartment in Greenwich Village, Carmen seemed to have pulled herself together, her earlier despair replaced by a newfound resolve.

The car came to a halt, and Carmen promptly said, "Camila, could you do me a favor?"

Noting the change in Carmen's demeanor, Camila urged, "Carmen, I think it's best if you go home and get some rest."

Carmen appeared not to hear this advice and insisted, "Find me a gossip reporter; you should be able to dig one up."

Realizing the implications of Carmen's intent, Camila quickly warned, "Carmen, you really shouldn't do that; what about Mr. Roland..."

"You have to understand," Carmen leaned slightly forward, her tone sharp and on the edge of breaking, "I'm the one paying your salary!"

Carmen's outburst shocked Camila; hesitating for a moment, she finally nodded, "Alright, just make sure you know what you're doing."

"Ha, what else can I do?" Carmen's usual faint smile became more pronounced, yet a large tear rolled down her cheek. "What else can I do?!"

She had always been the most beautiful and proud girl among her peers, unwilling to live a mundane life in a nameless town. At fourteen, she had left Estonia alone, struggling for six long years. Only at twenty did she finally glimpse success, only to see her dreams shattered.

Paul Roland's recent comments made it all too clear; she had, in effect, been discarded by WM.

So what could she do now?

Or rather, what did she have left to lose?

...

The dazzling Manhattan lights drew many to linger in their glow. Winter soon dimmed the day, as Carmen sat alone in a bar in Greenwich Village, reflecting on the neon lights outside while tunes from the Bryant Park runway drifted faintly to her ears.

These could only be figments of her imagination.

Perhaps she would soon leave this place altogether.

Camila walked in with a lean thirty-something white male and gestured toward Carmen but didn't approach him.

When the man, partially obscured by brown-tinted sunglasses, turned to Carmen, he offered a polite smile and extended his hand. "Miss Kass, hello."

Carmen was taken aback, her displeasure evident as she noticed Camila making her exit. She had reminded Camila not to reveal her identity.

But after a brief moment of weakness, Carmen quickly regained her cold demeanor. She declined to shake hands, sitting down instead to say, "I need you to follow someone."

"Of course, that's my job, Miss Kass," the man responded unfazed by Carmen's coldness. His tone held a hint of amusement as he deliberately spoke her name again.

Camila hadn't disclosed who Carmen was, but as a seasoned paparazzo, he knew how to pick up pieces of information. The news about Gisele Bundchen suppressing a newcomer promoted by WM had simply become common knowledge in the industry.

He could even surmise Carmen's intentions for meeting him.

Carmen sensed his disdain and bit her lip, hesitating only briefly before pulling out a thick envelope from her bag, pushing it across the table. "Here's fifty thousand dollars. Follow Gisele Bundchen, and if you get something I'm satisfied with, I can give you another fifty -- no, hundred thousand dollars."

Seeing the hefty envelope, the man's condescending posture faded away, and he gasped slightly.

He had seen his share of fifty thousand dollars as a professional paparazzo, occasionally selling scandalous photos for high prices.

What struck him, though, was that this fifty thousand dollars, plus the potential future hundred thousand dollars, likely represented an entire fortune for this girl. Brand new to the industry for less than six months, she had yet to secure a single endorsement, and while she had gained name recognition, it couldn't possibly translate to substantial earnings.

To take down her rival, she was willing to stake her entire savings -- she was indeed quite vicious.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, he quickly reached into his pocket, discreetly pressing the record button on his audio device. "Miss Kass, don't you realize who stands behind Gisele Bundchen?"

*****

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