This is a work of fiction,Any names or characters,bussinesses,places,events or incidents are fictitious and resemblance to actual person,living or dead  is purely coincidental

　　I've always been a dreamer. My grandma used to call me her little daydream.

　　I would dream that I was walking along the red carpet, a ruby red dress falling below my feet, a pair of glass slippers like the ones Cinderella wore on my feet. Of course I know now that glass slippers could never support my weight. They would shatter to pieces before I took three steps.

　　I would dream that I was walking down a catwalk in the newest designer line-up. Fashion designers from all over the world would come and watch me strike poses.

　　I would always wish that I could run away and become a model or an actress the way people run away to join the circus.

　　My mother and father would laugh at me when I told them that was the career path I wanted to pursue.

　　My dad would always say, "Honey, one day you will by pull your head out of the clouds and Elise the true meaning of life: business."

　　I never listened. I just kept in dreaming, hoping that one day those dreams might just come true. Little did I knew it would take a lot more than just my parents approval to achieve my goals.

　　"Zahra! Come downstairs please!" mother called from the lounge. I ran downstairs to see her and father sitting on the couch, our butler, Abdul, serving them drinks.

　　"You called?" I said as I sat down on the couch opposite them.

　　"Yes," father said, "me and your mother have been talking and we know how you have always dreamed of becoming a model."

　　Was this the moment? Were they finally going to let me become a model?

　　"Well, as you know, Paris has some of the world's most successful agency's. I have been talking to one of my closest friends and business partner, Mahmud Kamal, and he has offered to let you come and live with him and his family in Paris so that you can pursue your career." I was too shocked to speak. Mahmud Kamal was offering for me to go and live with him in Paris!

　　"You will be flying down to Paris on one of Mahmud airlines private jets!" mother exclaimed sounding just as excited as I was.

　　"when am i leaving?" I asked curiously. I would need to know how long I had to pack and boast about this to my friends.

　　"You will be leaving at nine am tomorrow," Father explained.

　　I couldn't believe it. Tomorrow! Tomorrow I was going to be flying to Paris on a luxury private jet!

　　"Oh and also one of Mahmud's personal stylists will take you shopping when you arrive in Paris."

　　I was going to go shopping with Mahmud Kamal's personal stylist. I was seconds away from screaming. This hard been the best news since father did a business deal with Chanel!

　　They explained what was going to be happening for a few more minutes before ushering me upstairs to pack.

　　I started searching my wardrobe and eventually I had packed all the clothes I wanted to bring. I then called my friends and told them all about what was happening.

　　The next day

　　I awoke to Abdul knocking at my door with breakfast. I ate everything and got dressed into some comfortable clothes for the flight.

　　I went downstairs and found all my suitcases Sat in the hallway.

　　"Zahra," Bisma, our house keeper, said tapping on my shoulder, "here is your plane ticket, sweetie."

　　"Thank you, Bisma!" I said, pocketing the ticket.

　　"Now you keep yourself out of trouble while your away," Bisma laughed. Although she had a large smile on her face, a few stray tears trickled down her cheeks.

　　"Bisma! I'll be back! I promise," I promised, giving the woman who had helped raise me a large hug.

　　"I'm going to miss you, Zahra," Bisma sobbed into my shoulder.

　　"Zahra!" father shouted from the hallway, "your driver is here!"

　　"Goodbye, Bisma!" with that I walked out of our mansion and got into the limo.

　　I watched as our mansion slowly disappeared into the distance.

　　When I arrived at the airport I had to quickly dash to get to baggage. Eventually I got through the queue and got onto my private jet.

　　The leather seats were so comfortable that within ten minutes I had completely drifted off to sleep.