"My God, Bambi, are you okay?" The short and hurried words revealed the tension and vulnerability in her heart. Even with the distance between them, I could imagine the worry and concern on her face. After just a brief mont, the voice on the other end of the line ca again, "Bambi?"
"Candy, I'm fine." I chuckled, but I still cleared my throat and gave a definite answer.
The text ssage was from Candice Swanepoel. Her English na is Candice, so "Candy" beca her nickna, just like "Bambi" beca mine.
"Are you sure?" Candice sighed in relief, but her tension wasn't completely gone. "Those hits during the ga looked really vicious. Did you get checked out by a doctor? I think you should get a full checkup to make sure you're okay."
I leaned against the locker, my muscles relaxing a little. A small smile appeared on the corner of my mouth, and a hint of a smile flickered in my eyes. "Trust , I'll take care of myself."
"Yes, you have to take care of yourself," Candice sighed, her voice still a little worried. "For us, no one cares about us but ourselves. We have to take care of ourselves. Only then can we keep going, and only then can our dreams have a chance to co true."
They were both striving in a foreign country, trying to make a living in a competitive workplace, and surviving in a bustling city. They faced greater challenges and more opportunities, and they could gain more, but they also had to give more. But the premise of all of it was that they had to learn to take care of themselves, because on the road to chasing their dreams, they were all alone, walking alone, and it was tough going.
She was the sa, and so was I. It was lucky to be able to et a companion to walk alongside.
Candice raised her right hand, ran it through her hair, and then scratched her head in frustration. "Bambi, I know it's impossible not to get hurt in competitive sports, but promise
that if your body really protests, don't force it. Rest well and relax. You were the one who told
that if you want to be fully prepared for battle, you have to get your weapon ready."
To do a good job, you must first sharpen your tools.
I was the one who had told Candice that.
For models, they need to adjust and control their diet. At the sa ti, they also need to keep training to hone their muscles. The glamorous appearance under the spotlight is also the result of countless hours of sweat and hard work.
During her ti in Los Angeles, Candice's career never really took off. The competition for models was too fierce. Not only did they have to be skinny, but they also had to have beautiful muscle lines. The muscles couldn't be too strong or too loose.
The reason why Gisele Bündchen beca the number-one supermodel in the world and stayed on that throne for over twenty years wasn't because she was so beautiful and gorgeous. It was because her body was perfect. She was skinny where she needed to be and curvy where she needed to be. Her muscles were firm and elastic, and her body proportions and lines were a miracle of creation.
For other models, catching up to Gisele was almost an impossible task.
To increase her competitiveness, Candice trained relentlessly with high intensity, which caused her body to send out a warning. She fainted from dehydration. If I hadn't finished my run and noticed that Candice hadn't shown up that day, and then stopped by her house to check on her, I wouldn't have found her in ti, and who knows what the consequences would have been.
At that ti, I told Candice that haste makes waste and that sharpening the ax doesn't delay the work of cutting wood. The body is the foundation and the capital. Their efforts needed to be more organized and planned.
Years later, the situation had been reversed. It was Candice telling
to take it easy.
The smile on my face lingered for a mont, and a hint of understanding flashed in my eyes. I nodded in agreent. "Okay, I know." It wasn't a grandiose promise, but it was enough to show my sincerity. Then, I changed the subject and said in a light tone, "Did you watch the ga live today? I thought you had work."
"I'm at a photo shoot now, getting ready to take pictures. But, I can watch the ga live in the gaps between work. Luckily, there are no Bengals fans at the shoot today," Candice joked after her emotions had cald down a little. "However, I'm in Miami today. They were originally going to watch the Miami Dolphins vs. the Cleveland Browns ga, but it's clear that the ga wasn't as exciting as this one, 'The Number Fourteen Showdown'!"
"A photo shoot? Watching football? That's... a very interesting combination. Are you sure about that? How do you maintain your shooting state after watching a ga and getting all fired up?" I pictured the scene in my head—a group of models wearing trendy clothes, posing in all sorts of ways while watching the NFL. It was so weird that I couldn't help but laugh.
Candice recalled the photo shoot this morning. She was distracted and restless, and she couldn't fully concentrate. The work that could have been finished in three hours was still not done after five hours. It wasn't just her; the photographers, staff, and other models were also the sa.
The image in her mind and my words confird each other. Candice couldn't help but smile and chuckle. "If you ever get the chance, you're welco to co to a shoot and feel the atmosphere."
"A photo shoot? Describe what's around you now." I said, laughing.
Candice looked back at the busy photo studio behind her. "I think you should probably go see the team doctor now and get so relaxing treatnt."
"Sixty seconds. For the sake of our friendship, I'll give you another sixty seconds," I said, although it was my own curiosity, I pretended to be very generous, which was quite funny. "So, is that how a photo shoot works? Is it a bunch of beautiful models swarming in, and then the photographer looks for all sorts of inspiration to get the shots?"
"Bambi, are you more curious about the photo studio or the beautiful won?" Candice bit her lip gently, her eyebrows raised in a playful expression.
I spread my hands, claiming my innocence. "I'm just curious. In exchange, I can describe the situation in the locker room to you. For example, next to
is a burly man weighing 350 pounds. His bald head looks like a freshly peeled boiled egg, and his arms are covered in tattoos, with a dragon on the left and a tiger on the right..."
Before I could finish my vivid description, Candice shook her head repeatedly. "The visual! The visual is too strong. I can't handle it." Then she raised her hands to cover her eyes, as if she were really in the locker room. This made
laugh out loud on the other end of the phone.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Candice said, turning around and starting to look at the photo studio. But words and descriptions weren't her strong suit, and it was a little difficult. She didn't even know where to start. "We're, um, we're in an abandoned warehouse. The space is huge, almost as big as a football field..."
Her words were a little clumsy and fragnted, but Candice continued. "There's a row of windows on the right. The Miami sun hasn't reached its peak yet, so the sunlight can pass through the windows and fall down, covering half the warehouse..." She looked up and froze. She had been in the photo studio the whole ti, but she had never noticed such a beautiful sight.
"Now, countless dust particles are floating and dancing in the beams of light, as if thousands of fireflies are flying around," Candice said, unconsciously raising her right hand and gently touching the sunlight, feeling its lazy warmth. Then, she opened her palm, feeling the fragnts of sunlight lingering in her hand. "Now, everyone is covered in a layer of golden light, even more vast than the ocean and wider than the sky, it's like..."
Candice's words trailed off. For the first ti, she truly and deeply realized how pale her words were. The words and sentences couldn't capture even a fraction of the beauty in front of her.
"It's like ti has stopped, and space has started to expand infinitely," my voice ca through the phone, ringing in her ears. The smile on Candice's face suddenly blood. "Yes, exactly. How did you know?"
On instinct, Candice turned around to look. The golden light was beautiful to behold, and then she realized: I was in Cincinnati, so it was impossible for
to be in Miami. After realizing this, Candice smiled even more brightly.
"Because I'm seeing the sa beam of sunlight right now." I looked up and could see that bright and brilliant sunlight. It passed through the window of the locker room, fell down grandly, outlining the blurry figures and hot sweat. The dust particles floating in it were dancing wildly, as if stars were falling from the sky.
Breaking the constraints of space and passing through the gap in ti, it was as if we were standing side-by-side, right next to each other.
I curled my fingers, as if to keep the faint warmth in my palm. "Sixty seconds are up. I need to go and relax." My voice brought both of them back to reality. The close distance was instantly pulled far apart again, returning to Cincinnati and Miami, with a vast distance between them. "By the way, how did the interview for the fashion show at the end of the year go?"
It was the interview for the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. Every year, all models have to participate in a re-audition to win the right to walk on the runway again, ensuring that every model is still in top condition for the new year's show.
Of course, a top model like Gisele Bündchen wouldn't need to, but Candice had only officially signed last year, so she had to participate in this year's interview.
"I passed and won the right to walk in the show!" Candice said, bringing good news. "But the specific position and outfit still need to be decided in the final round of auditions. I'll tell you as soon as everything is finalized!"
"Then, good luck!"
"You, too. Good luck!"
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