LOGINThe weeks turned into months. Time moved differently in Switzerland. It was no longer measured by lonely nights or sleepless mornings. It was measured by fittings, campaign deadlines, rehearsals, flights, castings, interviews, and production schedules that rarely allowed more than a few hours of uninterrupted rest. Zurich had warned her during orientation. "If you become successful here, your calendar will no longer belong to you." At the time, Ena thought it had sounded dramatic. Every day started before sunrise. Hair. Skin preparation. Workout. Breakfast with nutritionist. Wardrobe fitting. Meetings. Shoots. Media appearances. Brand consultations. Sometimes I wouldn't return to my apartment until midnight, only to wake up four hours later and repeat everything again. It was exhausting. Yet strangely... I welcomed it. Because exhaustion left little room for memories. ... I had learned to speak slower. Walk straighter. Smile only when necessary. Every movemen
The days quickly found a rhythm of their own. By the end of my first week at Zurich International, I realized there was no such thing as an ordinary day. Every morning began before sunrise. At five-thirty, my alarm would pull me from sleep. By six, I was already inside the private fitness studio located on the twenty-fourth floor of the headquarters, stretching alongside other talents under the supervision of Zurich's performance coaches. The sessions were never about becoming thinner. They focused on endurance, posture, flexibility, and injury prevention. Every movement had a purpose. "Runway work demands balance more than strength," Coach Emilia reminded us almost every morning. "The audience only sees elegance. They never see the discipline behind it." After training came breakfast, usually prepared by the nutrition team. Meals were carefully planned according to each model's physical assessment. Fresh fruits, eggs, whole grains, lean protein, and enough carbohydrates to
The first morning in Switzerland didn't feel real. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of my apartment, a mug of untouched coffee warming my hands as I looked out at the city below. Zürich was already awake. Trams glided through clean streets with effortless precision, cyclists moved along designated lanes, and people walked with a quiet confidence that somehow matched the calm atmosphere surrounding them. Everything here felt... organized, peaceful, and different. I glanced at the digital clock on the kitchen counter. 7:12 A.M. My orientation started at eight. I took one last look outside before setting my coffee down. The reflection staring back at me from the glass looked familiar yet distant. I was really here. Thousands of miles away from home. Thousands of miles away from everything I once called mine. For a brief second, my thoughts wandered. Was Xavier having coffee already? Had he gone to work? ...And Aria? I wondered if she had finally opened h
Entering my parents house makes me feel a mixture of longing and thrill. It's been a while. I have long turned my backs on them. Back in our province, I decided to leave everything behind. Including them. For my modeling career. Now, I am here. In front of them, in the city where they decided to leave after I left. Waiting for me to thank them for bringing back the offer I once throw for love. My mom smirked, showing that "I told you" look. Proud. While my dad looked at me with longing. Maybe missing me too, just how I missed seeing him this close. It has been 7 years since I distanced my self to them. "I'm glad you changed your mind, Ena. This is for your own good," my mother started. I sighed and nodded. "I realized, it's better for me to chase for that dream first." She waved her hand elegantly as if she's shoo-ing the idea of "chase for that dream first". "You chase that dream of yours and never repeat your mistake. Enjoy your life there and look for a
I closed my eyes and felt everything slowly shattering on me. This love... I thought would thrive no matter how hard things can get but seeing Aria being kissed by someone else, I don't know. I just know that I can't look at her anymore. Her explanation isn't needed anymore. And I regret choosing to stay with her. My tears continued to flaw as memories of us flash back in my mind. I wonder if any of that was true? If she ever loved me? Or if all this time, she was just proving something to me? Maybe she doesn't really love me. Maybe she just wanted to show me that she can control me. Foolish me. I believed every lie she uttered. - "Ena... please, you need to rest." I shook my head and wiped the tears on my face. "I can't rest until I leave. I want to leave, Xavier." My voice sounded too firm than it should. My brother looked at me confused. I closed my eyes firmly and took a deep breath before looking at him again, calmer. "Can you still find a way to contact
The door slammed behind me, but I didn’t hear it. Or maybe I did—and my mind just refused to register it. Everything felt… muted. Like the world had been wrapped in something thick and suffocating, dulling every sound except the one thing that wouldn’t stop echoing inside my head. That image. Him. Her. I walked blindly. I didn’t even remember grabbing my keys. I didn’t remember stepping outside. The only thing I was aware of was the way my chest felt like it was being torn open, breath by breath. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process. I couldn’t even cry properly. It was like my body didn’t know how to react to that kind of pain. My phone buzzed in my hand. Xavier. I stared at the screen for a second before answering. “Hello?” My voice came out uneven, barely there. “Ena? Where are you?” His tone shifted immediately. “You don’t sound okay.” I laughed weakly, but it broke halfway through. “I’m… driving.” There was a pause. “Driving where?” “I don’t know,” I admitted.
Time didn’t rush anymore. It didn’t drag either. It simply moved—steady, deliberate, almost kind. Months passed without me noticing the exact moment when chaos stopped defining my days. I only realized it one quiet morning, standing in the kitchen with sunlight warming the counter, when Aria humme
I didn’t realize how tired I was until I closed the door behind me. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt heavier than usual, like my body finally understood that I was safe enough to let go. My shoulders sagged, and for a moment, I just stood there in the entryway, breathing. The lights
The apartment smelled like brewed coffee and faint antiseptic—the kind Aria always carried home with her after long days of meetings and consultations. I liked that scent now. It meant she was building something again, not just for others, but for herself. She was sitting at the dining table when
The morning felt heavier than usual. Not in a bad way—just charged. Like something important was about to happen, even if nothing outwardly dramatic was planned. I stood in front of the mirror longer than necessary, fixing my hair, then undoing it, then fixing it again. I changed tops twice befor







