Sad Secrets

Within a few months, agents and ad agencies in New York knew Ben’s face well. Ben’s immediate success as a part-time model, while encouraging and financially rewarding, never led to much more than an occasional cover, a few magazine photo shoots, or selected runway shows for major department stores and their designers. Ben placed his own limitations on his career. He frequently turned down offers which might lead to Europe or South America, and he made it entirely clear, with his agents as well as other professionals around him, that he had no interest in pursuing a career in the glaring spotlight of public life. He preferred to be silent and alone. College was by now distant in both time and space—a hundred years and a million miles away. Drawn by his charisma, New Yorkers naturally gravitated toward him; but he did not seek out friends, nor did he encourage depth in any relationship. His trips to New York, while filled with the excitement and “glamour” offered by the power and wealth of the advertising and marketing machines, became more leisure than business. He often cancelled modeling calls with little notice or frequently did not show at all. Even so, this lack of dependability did not deter the agencies. He had the face, the physique, and the movements so feverishly relished (and devoured) by the powers on Madison Avenue; so opportunities continued. On shoots, he rarely mingled with the other models, especially the men. He listened to the photographers but did not patronize them. He followed instructions, to the letter, and made few, if any, suggestions or comments. He was a “pro.” Lifelong ease with adulation paved the way for limitless possibilities. Whether he was happy was irrelevant, and he typically considered each New York trip to be his last. He found it appealing that his New York success depended upon only his outward appearance and was not contingent upon emotional, intellectual, or social factors. As Ben walked into the main tower of the building hovering high above him, he watched the masses of cluttered, bustling humanity. He noticed, too, that—even there, even in the throngs rushing into and out of their daily routines—he attracted attention. In a sea of handsome men, everywhere around him, he stood out. That validation bolstered him. It kept him whole. It kept him sane.