Her Manhattan life

She wakes up…
She gets ready…
She goes to a party…
She parties all night…
She finds somebody to fuck.
She does.
She goes to sleep.
She wakes up...
In certain ways, these were—and continue to be—the best times of her life. Single, beautiful, wild L. So she says. The best...
And D is authorized to use his Canon camera anytime, anywhere, anyhow. And with L being in whatever altered state his lens records. Call this photojournalism. Art realite. And verite.
L has always wanted to be a superb model.
Famous and superb. Superb...her word.
But so far...this has not happened. And it is hard to think anything other than L must end badly. And probably without becoming a superb model either.
Why won't she?