In my youth, I’d pose for whatever would keep the lights on—sleazy shoots, low-ball gigs, anything with clothes on that paid. I was just a scrappy kid in a city that didn’t give a damn if I made it or not. Modeling wasn’t exactly a choice; it was survival. Half the time, I didn’t even know what I’d signed up for until the lights were on and I was striking some ridiculous pose for a creep with a camera. But somehow, I always knew how to work the lens, knew how to make people look twice, even in those low-rent shoots. Funny thing is, when I finally started making a name for myself, it just clicked. The camera didn’t intimidate me—if anything, I felt right at home. I learned to enjoy it, like it was this strange, twisted performance art. And yeah, maybe I even liked the attention, the control of owning every shot, turning heads on my own terms. Modeling? It came as naturally as breathing. What started as survival turned into power. These days, I pick the shots, the looks, the story I want to tell. No more low-ball gigs… unless I feel like it. Doing Essence was one thing, and Rolling Bone was its own beast... but Discharge? Let’s just say things got a little hazy. I might’ve had a drink—or three—and, well… clothes were optional. Discharge was… a moment. A blurry, reckless night that taught me exactly what I didn’t want to be. And after that, I made damn sure no one else got to decide how the world saw me. Maybe it’s a surprise to see me on the cover of Essence, all polished up for the high-society types who usually wouldn’t touch my world with a ten-foot pole. So why do it? Let’s be real—it was a bit of an ego trip. Seeing my face plastered on their glossy pages? It was satisfying in a way I didn’t expect. When you’ve scraped your way up from the gutter, a moment in the spotlight doesn’t feel too bad. But it’s more than that. This is me playing chess, not checkers. I didn’t just do this for the hell of it. Being in Essence is a step—a way to push my ambitions further. They want to call me the ‘face of rebellion,’ put a label on me to sell magazines? Fine. I’ll use that label to push boundaries they don’t even know are there. Not everyone in my crew saw it that way. Some thought I’d sold out, that I was playing right into the system’s hands. And maybe there’s some truth to that. But if I’m going to lead this fight, sometimes I need to shake things up, even if it means ruffling a few feathers. For every page they turn, someone new sees what I’m about, what we’re fighting for. So, yeah, I’ll take their spotlight and use it. Not just for the fame—though I’m not gonna lie, that has its perks—but to light a fire under this city’s cold, dead heart. This world may be twisted, but ambition? Ambition is how you survive.