set of bewildering instructions like “Act natural,” and “Don’t smile. Pout!”
“Can we fix that in proofs?” one technician—I’d lost track of who did what by now—asked. “Or should we get makeup to . . .”
“She looks familiar.” I squinted into the darkness, ignoring the chatter around me as I tried to make out the photographer’s features.
Adonis touched my chin, drawing my gaze back to him before the photographer could pounce on my slip-up. When he was moved to a position that put his back to the camera, he solved the mystery for me. “That’s Jane. You probably saw me talking to her yesterday.”
My mind flashed back to the plain woman he’d been speaking with at orientation. “ Oh. I’d wondered what she was doing there.” I smiled to myself, feeling foolish for not considering that everyone at orientation wouldn’t necessarily be a model “Makes total sense to have her behind the camera.”
Adonis struggled to maintain a “serious” expression as he pulled me to him. His hand skimmed my side as he lifted my camisole a tiny bit, as instructed. My breath caught. All I could think about were his lips burning away the rain and cold last night. The photographer’s voice pierced the buzzing in my ears, and I followed her instructions without thought, putting a hand to Adonis’s chest, and looking up at him. His heart pounded against my palm as he swallowed hard and tucked my hair behind my ear. His gentle fingers traced my jawline to my chin, lifting my face to his, kissing-close.
“Okay,” Jane called after a moment. “Let’s reset.”
People poured out of the woodwork, moving around us to adjust the equipment. As they rearranged white boards and tall stands with umbrellas attached to them, the ambiance in the room shifted. I’d never thought of light as something with texture before, but as the shadows in the room shifted from soft to hard, I wondered if anything was safe from the manipulations of gods and men.
“It makes sense for her to be behind the camera?” Adonis demanded as soon as it was safe to talk. “What do you mean by that?”
I blinked, confused. “She’s plain, is all.”
“That woman,” he inclined his head in the photographer’s direction, “speaks three languages, gives half her paycheck to The Humane Society, and would skin someone alive if they messed with one of her models. She is the person I’d call if I ever needed to bury a body, and she’s so frickin’ smart, she could probably get away with it. And in one sentence, you’ve reduced her to nothing but her features.”
“What else am I supposed to go on? I’ve seen her in a crowd, twice. It’s not as if I knew her life story.” She hadn’t even introduced herself. “And for the record, I could literally compel a corpse to dig their own grave, shield the location, and charm whoever dared investigate you into thinking that they’re a bunny rabbit. If you need to bury a body, call me.”
“Oh my gods.” Adonis threw up his hands in frustration. “Could you be more conceited?”
“Okay, ready,” Jane called, cutting Adonis off as she strode over and situated Adonis and me in another half-embrace. I followed her instructions, putting a hand to Adonis’s chest, and looking up at him.
“Why is that a bad thing?” I whispered as Jane walked back to her camera. “I honestly don’t get how anyone manages to function in a society with such a complex and contradictory social code. You claim to value honesty, yet you thrive on lies. Calling a plain person plain is somehow an insult instead of a statement of fact, meanwhile—”
“That’s not—”
“—the only acceptable form of validation is from other people giving you compliments. But then, you have to deny them,” I said. That didn’t seem right. “I’m not from your social structure, remember? Those rules don’t apply to me. If you keep expecting me to act like I’m human, you’re going to be disappointed. I
“Can we fix that in proofs?” one technician—I’d lost track of who did what by now—asked. “Or should we get makeup to . . .”
“She looks familiar.” I squinted into the darkness, ignoring the chatter around me as I tried to make out the photographer’s features.
Adonis touched my chin, drawing my gaze back to him before the photographer could pounce on my slip-up. When he was moved to a position that put his back to the camera, he solved the mystery for me. “That’s Jane. You probably saw me talking to her yesterday.”
My mind flashed back to the plain woman he’d been speaking with at orientation. “ Oh. I’d wondered what she was doing there.” I smiled to myself, feeling foolish for not considering that everyone at orientation wouldn’t necessarily be a model “Makes total sense to have her behind the camera.”
Adonis struggled to maintain a “serious” expression as he pulled me to him. His hand skimmed my side as he lifted my camisole a tiny bit, as instructed. My breath caught. All I could think about were his lips burning away the rain and cold last night. The photographer’s voice pierced the buzzing in my ears, and I followed her instructions without thought, putting a hand to Adonis’s chest, and looking up at him. His heart pounded against my palm as he swallowed hard and tucked my hair behind my ear. His gentle fingers traced my jawline to my chin, lifting my face to his, kissing-close.
“Okay,” Jane called after a moment. “Let’s reset.”
People poured out of the woodwork, moving around us to adjust the equipment. As they rearranged white boards and tall stands with umbrellas attached to them, the ambiance in the room shifted. I’d never thought of light as something with texture before, but as the shadows in the room shifted from soft to hard, I wondered if anything was safe from the manipulations of gods and men.
“It makes sense for her to be behind the camera?” Adonis demanded as soon as it was safe to talk. “What do you mean by that?”
I blinked, confused. “She’s plain, is all.”
“That woman,” he inclined his head in the photographer’s direction, “speaks three languages, gives half her paycheck to The Humane Society, and would skin someone alive if they messed with one of her models. She is the person I’d call if I ever needed to bury a body, and she’s so frickin’ smart, she could probably get away with it. And in one sentence, you’ve reduced her to nothing but her features.”
“What else am I supposed to go on? I’ve seen her in a crowd, twice. It’s not as if I knew her life story.” She hadn’t even introduced herself. “And for the record, I could literally compel a corpse to dig their own grave, shield the location, and charm whoever dared investigate you into thinking that they’re a bunny rabbit. If you need to bury a body, call me.”
“Oh my gods.” Adonis threw up his hands in frustration. “Could you be more conceited?”
“Okay, ready,” Jane called, cutting Adonis off as she strode over and situated Adonis and me in another half-embrace. I followed her instructions, putting a hand to Adonis’s chest, and looking up at him.
“Why is that a bad thing?” I whispered as Jane walked back to her camera. “I honestly don’t get how anyone manages to function in a society with such a complex and contradictory social code. You claim to value honesty, yet you thrive on lies. Calling a plain person plain is somehow an insult instead of a statement of fact, meanwhile—”
“That’s not—”
“—the only acceptable form of validation is from other people giving you compliments. But then, you have to deny them,” I said. That didn’t seem right. “I’m not from your social structure, remember? Those rules don’t apply to me. If you keep expecting me to act like I’m human, you’re going to be disappointed. I
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