Keep Me Where The Light Is

There are quite a few words I could use to accurately describe my line of business growing up: unconventional, unique, demanding, unheard of, selective, shocking, the list goes on. If you weren't raised in the culture surrounding what I do, you would probably associate my job with something along the lines of an online ship-yourself-a-bride-from-China type thing; which I can assure you, it's nothing like that. We're much more valuable. Kidding. Kind of.
My job, to put it in the simplest terms I can manage, is to hang out with rich people. Ever since I was two years old, my picture, and a lengthy summary of who I am, has been posted on the wall of an office building in New York, along with thousands of other 'models.' Don't ask me where the building is, or even what it looks like, because I couldn't tell you. I don't know. I get all of my 'assignments' through my agent, who doesn't talk about anything but work. I don't know how you get into the business, how I was picked out of the thousands of kids from my orphanage in Russia to be shipped to the US as a infant and raised to be a perfect fake date, or fake best friend, or fake family member, I just don't know.
Admittedly, it isn't nearly as scary, or as illegal, as it sounds. I wasn't actually 'shipped' to the US specifically to become an "escort" to the rich and famous, I wasn't even meant to be in the agency at all. My life was supposed to be extraordinarily mundane. I was adopted by two spectacular parents who were approached by the agency a little later in my life. It was an offer they couldn't refuse, mainly because it financially and physically secured my future for the rest of my life. I'm lucky, extremely lucky, in that sense.
To get into specifics, the agency, referred to only ever as "the agency," I've never heard its actual name, provides dates to those rich and famous enough to afford us, and believe me, I may not know much about what goes on, but I do know that buying a date for the night is extremely expensive. The term "date" isn't always used in a romantic sense, sometimes 'dates' have to pretend to be the best friend or cousin to the buyer. That's how I was able to enter the agency so young, I guess they were getting more and more requests for smaller children available for play-dates out in the public eye, and I fit the mold perfectly: mild tempered, healthy, pretty in a vaguely unique sense, and, probably more important of all, unknown.
The profile posted of me in the agency's office looks something like this: a picture of my face, a picture of my full body, a description of what I look like, including a monthly checkup with a general health doctor as well as a psychologist and dermatologist, an in depth report of every assignment with anyone that I've ever been on, and an extremely detailed report on my personality, including major characteristics, acting skills, grades, my zodiac sign, and anything else that you could possibly think of. Anything that you could possibly know about a person is complied in a folder, and if you enough influence and money, you can get your hands on it.
Thankfully, I'm what is refereed to as a 'high priority model,' meaning that contradictory to what I said earlier, not everyone can have me as a date, due to the fact that when I go out, I keep my identity. Most girls, and boys, when going out on a date usually change their name, memorize some fake background story, and when the night is over they never see their date again. This is because that usually the date that clients request is extremely specific, i.e.: Marissa Brown, blonde shoulder length hair with eyebrows that match said color, brown eyes, 5'4-5'6 in height, small feet, must be in average weight scale for their height, plain features.
So, the agency creates said "Marissa Brown." They find a model that meets the height, weight, and feature requirements and fix everything else: cutting and dying hair, colored contacts, create a false background and name. Then, after the event, "Marissa Brown" disappears, unless the public latches onto the client for some reason, and they are requested again.
Usually, this happens for one or two models a year, and they become a "Marissa Brown" for the rest of their agency career, which varies in length. Nobody really chooses to leave the agency, it's easy and glamorous work with a high paycheck, but sometimes girls are forced to leave because of public scandals or something of the like. I've seen the agency pay for facial reconstructive surgery for a girl who was caught in the middle of some super star's scandal, just so she could lead a normal life again.
There are probably less than one hundred models at the agency who are allowed to "keep" their identities when going out on dates, it's practically unheard of. I was lucky to join the agency when they were still allowing the majority of models to use their real names, instead of when they consistently started assigning models fake names, and so when I was designated to keep my identity, I was using my real name. Unfortunately, others weren't so lucky, and for the rest of their lives are forced to live, at least in the public eye, with names that aren't theirs. And a few of the names are horrible. There's an older model whose had to answer to the name "Bertha Chickcorn" for over thirty years.
I have no idea why the public latched onto me like they did. Out of the blue one day when I was two I was featured on a page in USA Today, my picture appeared on the 'Stylish Celebrity Babies' spread, and a week later in People in an article titled 'The Correct Way to Raise a Child Star in NYC.' I certainly wasn't a child star, I had been on a few high profile play-dates but that was it, but I was branded for life in the agency's eyes. I guess a lot of requests for me to go on dates with their kids came rolling in, and that was when I was labeled 'high priority.' On the positive side of things, that year alone I made more than both of my parents, combined. Negatively, I was now on constant watch, even as a baby. Every tantrum I threw, every word I said, every clump of dirt I ate was monitored. It's toned down a bit more recently, but when other children were playing in the park with their friends, I was playing a permanent game of dress up and please the agency.
Now, I go on around one assignment every week. The rest of the time I'm generally allowed to go out with who I please, but "who I please" directly translates to "other models." Indirectly, that's the agency's fault, because I'm never around anyone else but other models. I go to NYC Academy and Preparatory School, for the privileged as the models call it, since no student who goes here makes less than a six figure income. And yes, I meant student, because it's all models for our agency and actual runway models, along with actors and actresses. NYC Academy and Prep is where all models for the agency go, unless you want to go to online school, which is an option.
Classes are based on intellectual ability and your schedule for work, and since all the models are given the same time frame for classes from the agency, the ratio of agency models to other students is generally about 20/1. Therefore, there isn't generally a lot of new friend making to be had. I've made some friends while on assignments, but having to keep all the secrets about the agency all while answering question like 'you went out with WHO?' and 'how in the world did you get into that party?' gets mildly exhausting after a while. It's worse for low-profile models, who aren't allowed to make friends while on assignment because once the night is over, the dye is washed out of their hair, their name is given back, and they're not the same person who just attended an event, so my situation doesn't seem that bad.
I'm also lucky, because my assignments are chosen based on previous assignment, and if it seems logical that I could go from one date to another. Basically, I'm lucky to not be forced to attend week long golf tournaments in Peru or go to an opening of an oil drilling company in the Alaskan cold. My assignments are all based in big cities where other celebrities inhibit: the New York City and Manhattan area, Hollywood, Nashville, and the like. I've had a few assignments over seas, but only for an important event, and I'm back the next day. My specialty is red carpet events, movie releases, private celeb parties/dinners, and so forth, because I've learned how to handle a lot of publicity and camera time. Sometimes I go on one-on-one dates with the client, but always in a place where the paparazzi can "conveniently" be called by a source to take pictures.
The usual client is a musician or actor age 18 to 28, who needs a romantic date for a publicity event, who either doesn't have a girlfriend and romantic other, or who has a girlfriend or romantic other whom the client's agent doesn't approve of. The client doesn't really know how I came to be their date, has no clue about the agency, and just assumes that a favor was pulled somewhere along the line so I would hangout with him for the night. They assume they're doing me a favor by inviting me to an event, and I'm doing them a favor by pretending to be their date. I have no idea what would happen if I told the secret of our agency, maybe I would get fired, if that even happens, but I'm certain it wouldn't be good, and I'm certain I don't want to find out.
The system isn't perfect, but it's probably as close as it gets. The agency knows how to cover its tracks, how to keep a secret right in the public eye, literally. It's an industry that 99.999 percent of the world doesn't know about, and will probably never know about. A company created to solve a problem that nobody knows exists, and for the majority of the world, doesn't. I guess all that's left to say is: you're welcome.

Notes

Okay, I can totally see why someone would think this is a "One Direction buying someone" story, but I promise you it isn't. Anyway, enjoy.