What does it feel like right before you die?
If I kept skipping meals would I feel anything before fading into oblivion? Or would the constant pangs of an empty stomach and a throbbing head be the last things I felt?
I can't remember what the last things I felt on that runway were before it all went dark. I remember looking out into the crowd and feeling on top of the world, but in my mind there was no gap between falling on the runway and waking up several hours later in the bed in my hotel room.
Cards, baskets and flowers adorned every possible free space, but otherwise it was just me alone in a large, empty hotel room. I could only imagine that after passing out on the runway in front of hundreds of important ponies that my agent had explained to everypony that I was suffering from a very bad cold and a slight case of exhaustion, but I would be better in no time.
And they would believe her. Why wouldn't they?
I pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed eager to grab a snack from one of the baskets in the room and I tried to make it a point to avoid the large mirror on the wall. I wanted to avoid looking myself in the eye because I didn't want to see her looking back at me with those judging eyes. It was bad enough I could hear her mocking me from the moment I opened my eyes, reminding me that I ruined everything.
I grabbed a small chocolate from one of the baskets, hoping it would help my headache and would take my mind off of the awful day I've had.
Put that down. You don't need sweets. There are too many calories in it.
I had hoped she wouldn't see, that if I didn't look in the mirror she wouldn't exist today, but she was always there and she always had been. She curled up inside me like a cat waiting for the right moment to pounce on me and show me the way. Sometimes she's quiet, it's her way of tricking me into thinking that I'm in control, but she always comes back and I always listen to her.
Sometimes I try to reason with her. Like now when I stand completely still in front of the basket, as I looked longingly at the food.
The chocolates are small and I haven't eaten anything all day. I do need it, I'm hungry.
You cannot be hungry for something with that many calories in it. There's plenty of fruit baskets, you could take a piece of fruit.
“I'm hungry,” I said out loud.
But one piece of chocolate will turn to two and two will turn into the entire bag. You'll get fat and you're going to need your looks if you want to revive your career after tonight.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, she was right. I didn't want to get fat. I wanted to keep my career. After all, nopony wanted to hear anything other than a fast metabolism and good genetics is what keeps models looking so good. To say otherwise is career suicide.
And I wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet.