boots.
“Let’s get you to wardrobe and hair and makeup,” Jim said as he led Derek through the lobby and into one of the hotel’s meeting rooms.
Fortunately, Derek didn’t know the hairdresser, makeup artist or wardrobe stylist, and only had to endure a few comments about his resemblance to Derek Randall. The stylist was unaware that his sizes were all identical to the dead supermodel’s because she’d never dressed Derek before.
Once Derek and Strawberry were ready, they were ushered back to the lobby and seated on the perfectly-lit sofa. A few extras were placed in the background and Jim began to shoot as Derek and Strawberry faked a pleasant conversation.
Every few minutes, Jim would step away and confer with the clients who were gathered around a monitor across the lobby, muttering to each other and to Jim. Then Jim would come back and give a few directions before shooting again.
Things went smoothly for a couple of hours, after which everyone took a quick break. Strawberry took off looking for the ladies room. Derek no longer had a need for a bathroom, of course, and politely refused the bottle of water a production assistant brought him.
He stood to stretch his legs and saw Clara come through the front door into the lobby. Her face lit up when she saw him.
She stopped and spoke to Jim and the clients before heading over to Derek.
“Everything going okay?” she asked.
“Perfect.”
When she smiled, he had to fight to keep his fangs from extending.
Strawberry returned and Clara stepped away so the shoot could resume.
After another hour or so, the clients seemed happy with what they had and Jim called wrap.
Derek and Strawberry went back into the wardrobe room to change. Emerging first, Derek found Jim and Clara waiting at a table in the lobby with his paperwork.
Derek signed the model release and agency voucher and thanked Jim for the job. It paid five thousand dollars for unlimited use for two years – not a rate he’d worked for in years, but he was grateful that Clara would get some money out of it and knew it was still an exceptional rate for a newcomer.
Clara drove him back to her apartment. He could tell she was getting tired, but she was still eager to make love, and told him Jim said he might want him for another booking later in the week before she fell asleep.
He walked home, feeling good about his first job as Adonis. Terence and Raymond were in the living room when he got home, and he told them about his evening.
When he told them he’d chosen Transylvania for his home, he spoke in his new Adonees voice.
“Transylvania?” Terence asked. “Seriously?”
“You speak Romanian?” Raymond added.
Derek looked from one to the other, realizing he probably should have thought that through a little better. “Fuck,” was all he said.
When he climbed the stairs to go to his room, he knew who was waiting for him, of course. Madeline was sitting on his bed. He didn’t join her on the bed, but stood facing her, hoping the conversation would be brief.
“How did it go?” she began.
“Great. You’ll have thirty-two fifty in the bank by the end of next week.”
“I thought it paid five thousand.”
“It did. But I have to pay my agent and manager. I’ll get a ten ninety-nine when tax time comes around, so don’t spend it all.”
“You need an agent and a manager?”
He’d never needed a manager before, but the main point of this was to make some money for Clara. Of course, he didn’t want Madeline to know that. “Yes. It’s standard.”
She just looked at him, waiting.
“Look, this is what I do. You’ll just have to trust me. I have to pay my agent and manager. You get the rest. And my rate will go up. Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty.”
She reached out and pulled him towards her by his belt. He started to stop her as she began to unbuckle it, but she shot him a warning glance. He stood still as she removed his flaccid penis from his pants, rubbed her nose on
“Let’s get you to wardrobe and hair and makeup,” Jim said as he led Derek through the lobby and into one of the hotel’s meeting rooms.
Fortunately, Derek didn’t know the hairdresser, makeup artist or wardrobe stylist, and only had to endure a few comments about his resemblance to Derek Randall. The stylist was unaware that his sizes were all identical to the dead supermodel’s because she’d never dressed Derek before.
Once Derek and Strawberry were ready, they were ushered back to the lobby and seated on the perfectly-lit sofa. A few extras were placed in the background and Jim began to shoot as Derek and Strawberry faked a pleasant conversation.
Every few minutes, Jim would step away and confer with the clients who were gathered around a monitor across the lobby, muttering to each other and to Jim. Then Jim would come back and give a few directions before shooting again.
Things went smoothly for a couple of hours, after which everyone took a quick break. Strawberry took off looking for the ladies room. Derek no longer had a need for a bathroom, of course, and politely refused the bottle of water a production assistant brought him.
He stood to stretch his legs and saw Clara come through the front door into the lobby. Her face lit up when she saw him.
She stopped and spoke to Jim and the clients before heading over to Derek.
“Everything going okay?” she asked.
“Perfect.”
When she smiled, he had to fight to keep his fangs from extending.
Strawberry returned and Clara stepped away so the shoot could resume.
After another hour or so, the clients seemed happy with what they had and Jim called wrap.
Derek and Strawberry went back into the wardrobe room to change. Emerging first, Derek found Jim and Clara waiting at a table in the lobby with his paperwork.
Derek signed the model release and agency voucher and thanked Jim for the job. It paid five thousand dollars for unlimited use for two years – not a rate he’d worked for in years, but he was grateful that Clara would get some money out of it and knew it was still an exceptional rate for a newcomer.
Clara drove him back to her apartment. He could tell she was getting tired, but she was still eager to make love, and told him Jim said he might want him for another booking later in the week before she fell asleep.
He walked home, feeling good about his first job as Adonis. Terence and Raymond were in the living room when he got home, and he told them about his evening.
When he told them he’d chosen Transylvania for his home, he spoke in his new Adonees voice.
“Transylvania?” Terence asked. “Seriously?”
“You speak Romanian?” Raymond added.
Derek looked from one to the other, realizing he probably should have thought that through a little better. “Fuck,” was all he said.
When he climbed the stairs to go to his room, he knew who was waiting for him, of course. Madeline was sitting on his bed. He didn’t join her on the bed, but stood facing her, hoping the conversation would be brief.
“How did it go?” she began.
“Great. You’ll have thirty-two fifty in the bank by the end of next week.”
“I thought it paid five thousand.”
“It did. But I have to pay my agent and manager. I’ll get a ten ninety-nine when tax time comes around, so don’t spend it all.”
“You need an agent and a manager?”
He’d never needed a manager before, but the main point of this was to make some money for Clara. Of course, he didn’t want Madeline to know that. “Yes. It’s standard.”
She just looked at him, waiting.
“Look, this is what I do. You’ll just have to trust me. I have to pay my agent and manager. You get the rest. And my rate will go up. Don’t worry. You’ll get plenty.”
She reached out and pulled him towards her by his belt. He started to stop her as she began to unbuckle it, but she shot him a warning glance. He stood still as she removed his flaccid penis from his pants, rubbed her nose on
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