Bab 88: First class

As I stepped into the grand entrance hall of the modeling school, my heart pounded in my chest. The place was bustling with activity, students and staff moving with purpose. The walls were adorned with large photographs of past graduates who had made it big in the industry, adding to the intimidating atmosphere.

I approached the reception desk, where a poised woman with short, sleek black hair and striking green eyes sat. She wore a stylish, fitted blazer and had an air of efficiency about her.

"Good morning," she said, her voice crisp and professional. "Welcome to the school. How can I help you?"

"Good morning," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm Elena Vargas. I'm supposed to start today."

She typed something into her computer, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. After a moment, she looked up and smiled.