Jordan thought there must be more to life. Sure, he’d become a nose model, just as he’d always dreamed. But as sometimes happens with great success, it wasn’t as glamorous as he’d thought it would be. He rushed from photo studio to photo studio, his nose raw from makeup, pinching, poking, wiping. He tired of hearing that his nose was aquiline, perfect for a collector’s coin. He tired of hearing that he had a proud profile. Most of all, he tired of the admiring looks of those who wished that they, too, could grace the cover of Whiff, the Magazine for the Discerning Nasal Enthusiast. He didn’t deserve their admiration.
He looked in the mirror and watched himself flare his nostrils. That made him feel better. He’d developed that talent over time. Many people could flare their nostrils, but not the way he could: one side then the other, then both at once. For that film with Meryl Streep, he had kept it up for an entire playing of the 1812 Overture. People Magazine had called it staggeringly touching. Of course, he’d been younger then, and in better shape.
Oh well, he couldn’t give up now. All he needed to do was keep working on new talents, one after the other. Then he would be more than just a nose. Then, after that, well…one step at a time.