If You're a Mate, How else?
About My Work

Happiness is simple.

Said this guy.

But I said, happiness is a struggle. No lie.

Rejecting back to walking exercises so that becoming a professional catwalk model is not easy. Seriously.

Standing up has to be a technique. Turn your left foot at a 45-degree angle. The right foot to the straight face. After that bend the right knee slightly above the left knee line. Let what try? Yes, of course to be balanced plus look slimmer. That said.

Not to mention I have to learn poker face. Can't smile at all. That smile is worship? But as I took a turn, I had to look straight ahead with a haughty face. Not arrogant you know, but he said let people focus on the clothes we show instead of our personal ones that they pay attention to.

I swear, at first it was hard to learn all this. I who incidentally haphazard, standing all the way dewe', whiny, seneng guyon (joking) should cry because of this standing and flat-faced exercise. Especially what I fought until this, if not for the sake of being a professional model.

That's new smile-resistant exercise and stand-up exercises doang . Not yet road exercises, acting classes, makeup, hairdressing, choreography and much more. Really in push let multitalenta.

Nothing yet, I gave up first. Frustration is like this pressure. The wrong way just a little, my ass was blocked using a long stick. It doesn't hurt, it's just upset. I was like a baby who was doing standing and walking exercises. Carefully looked at without even a hint. The difference, if the baby is given a cheerful spirit of joy. Lha me? diomeli while in plaques.

And every time I grumble, Mama at the end of the training ground, glaring with her mouth twitching as if to swallow me alive.

What else can I do other than hide? Wanted to fight fear of quality. Although in the heart misuh-misuh annoyed to accidentally lips in the front of Mama, but Mama is Mama. Pretend I don't see that I'm angry. Nyebelin emang Kanjeng Ratu's.

However, soon I'm the same Mama, honestly I don't dare to argue Mama. This mama is. Which birthed me. My paradise is still under his feet. Although the soles of his feet are rough, but my paradise has not moved to someone else.

Although bring bin nagging, Mama is also willing to pijitin my feet every night. He said, if you want to succeed, you need a struggle. I'm just a mangut-mangut. Khatam with his advice on that one. Quite yes - yes what Mama said. As long as Mama is happy, my skin is also not a pengang.

Eh but seriously, at first I was not interested in the world of modeling. If it wasn't my mother's compulsion - which of course could incite my sister-in-law, I'd be a model. Not thinking at all.

Mother-in-law Mbak Gita shit-I mean Mbak Gita my sister-in-law who is super duper quantiiikk. Former magazine model torn, joked. Former professional models who turned into mothers with a negligent, following the sale of negligee using his own brand. Because of his incitement, gradually I became really like this modeling world. Maybe I was afraid because I hated and had to. But now love is dead. Until I'm mocked by my mother.

"Eat him don't hate anything, know the taste right now. Love as hate is different. From sebel, sprains, don't like, hate too, but it's still a big grimy, right? It used to be like going to Masmu. From hate, kelas even more thought. It's finally love." That said. That is menggeledek all confhat colongan that is not kelar-kelar. What does the model world have to do with the same love that it tries?

Although Mbak Gita often menggeledek, so he supports my system number wahid. From the time I was dating Masku, she was my only fan. Every meeting of his work commends me. Either because I want to be accepted in my family or indeed praise me sincerely and sincerely. He used to say that my face was ugly. Ahah, it's like a trading man.

Ma'am Gita often say that I am ayu, beautiful, geulis. Very typical Indonesian women. Light yellow skin, black hair, thick, long, straight. Original without rebonding, smoothing, or something-something. If the word ad, only use shampoo.

Not to mention that if I smile, my cheek has a dimple. White teeth clean, neatly lined. Anyway, cuco meow is not barking.

That's why I'm so proud of myself. Thanks to my struggle until the blisters bleed, even sprained and must be sorted, I can be like now. There was no drama crying because of the practice of standing up. Now the road while remaking heels 12 centi is also saturated. The result is a medal lined up at home from this gentle race. Who originally participated in the RW-level race, until the last was a finalist of the National model contest.

Even from there, I can sign a contract here and there. So the calendar model of the jewelry store subscription Mama, the negligent model Mbakku, until penetrated into the stars of advertising. Wesss. Although only hold the medicine reject the wind while smiling pretty five fingers, but I throw it away. Not everyone can get just hold of the wind, right? Watching in Indonesia. How proud not to try?

I am also an influencer as well. Not influenza, though. But influencers. And it turns out it's faster to move from there. The impression of rich people, wong once review the product in the instagram story already dapet hundreds of thousands to tens of millions. Crazy right? Just one product, what if a day can get dozens of products?

I only a day can only endorse a maximum of ten products, until my instagram story points, lined up, made a sticky pegel, but the results are more than I took off on the catwalk. Really not expecting. Work is relaxed. No more feeling of work.

Maddened. Maddened. Maddened.

It's really my hockey. Until my stomach mules wrapped around so read his offer to become a brand ambassador for this smartphone. Brand Ambassador. Unmitigated.

The vow. Still not expecting to sign a contract with this Brand. Many top artists are beautiful, sexy, classy. But they called me instead.

I'm.

The crumban rengginang but still rauk-krauk when eaten.

I don't know what they saw from me? Is it because of that advertising of wind-rejecting herbs that makes them smitten with my five-fingered smile? Or because I became an influencer? Ah, mbuhlah. Anyway I'm super happy. Still not expecting. Like this dream, if not in the tabok Ma'am Retno - my beloved manager, maybe I will not realize that this is real.

So in fact, my heart is beating fast at this time after being asked to come to Oke.com for life streaming to introduce the features of this smartphone which he said is very suitable with my beautiful soul, looks simple but elegant. Is it yes? I don't feel like it, but if you say so, auto fly my nose.

"Hallo Yang, long wait?" sapa Mas Andi — Chief Creative Officer HPEC. Super handsome mass whose charisma makes the heart dag dig dug serrr. Different yes, if the work in the field of money. The outfit he uses is like the same as I ngendorse a month. Even every time he walked, his shoes the sound of "money money" is the horror.

Mas Andi stretched out his hand, continued to pull me to make chips. Viihi... Wanginyaaaa... perfume from money also times huh? Sticking in my nose. Very different from the perfume on display on the march-march racks that I often buy in the past before becoming a model. Now, even though my perfume has gone up in class, it is different from what Mas Andi wears. His money he feels.

"Dnnnn!" scold someone beside Mas Andi. I haven't had time to answer Mas Andi's question, I was made to gawk at that guy.

This sumpaaaahhhh is more guanteeeenggggggg buseetttt.

From his face it was clear, he was like a crossbreed. But his gaze was so cold that it was right to look at me. Is it just my feeling?

"Elah Bro, chipika-cipiki. Can't time? Is it not Yang?" asked Mas Andi to me while playing with his eyebrows up and down like a flirty Mas-Mas.

Wait a minute, he's Mas Andi anyway? How come Mas Andi can't chipika-cipiki like me?

.

Mantemaann... Long time no two. Forgive me who just nongol again even with a new story, instead of continuing the story of the Sambal (Living Friends)

After what dong, after being sick yesterday, so let's get in the mood for their story. And even the spirit of making this novel. It's okay, huh? Later I continue the story of Sambal if the mood has returned again.

But don't worry about this novel going mangkrak, because I've written almost finished. So it won't hang like Sambal. Hiz...

Moga you like...

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Thank you, you,

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