It had a reputation for being an inclusive agency. It had several LGBTQ+, BIPOC, plus-size, and disabled models on its books. I’d read the story of why McKay’s Models had been founded in a glossy magazine. The founder, Marcus McKay, had been one of the top male models of his day until he came out as gay and his agency dropped him. He’d started McKay’s Models with his partner to show that being different didn’t preclude anyone from succeeding. The man was a living legend and a fashion icon. It would be amazing to meet him one day. Not that there was any chance of that at an open-call audition in London. The head offices, and Marcus McKay, were in New York.
The second group of models left, and the third group was invited in. It put me in the fourth group of five. My mouth went dry as I realised that, in about an hour, I’d be going into McKay’s Models. Oh God. Oh God. It was almost time. I couldn’t screw it up. I couldn’t.
Finally, I was invited inside. I walked through the door, head held high so I’d project confidence rather than nervousness. The industrial vibe continued inside with bare brick walls and exposed piping. There was a reception desk directly in front of me and a small but comfortable seating area to the left, where the four models who had been let in ahead of me waited. There was one sofa and two seats. I understood why they were only letting five people in at a time.
“Don’t be shy.” The guy behind the reception desk beckoned me forward.
He was short for a guy. I guessed he was five feet three, maybe five feet four at most. He wore a bright-yellow tank top with a pale-pink shirt underneath. He had short dark-blond hair, and as I approached him, I realised he had grey-green eyes that sparkled with friendliness.
“Welcome to McKay’s Models. I’m Zachary, and you are?”
“Jae Cho.”
“Cute name. Do you have a contact number? They don’t always make a decision right away. There are so many talented models to choose from.”
I gave him my mobile number.
“Awesome. Address?” He typed it into his computer as I told him what it was. “You’ve come a long way. Good luck.”
“Don’t I need a number or something?”
“No need. In a moment, you’ll be taken upstairs to the boardroom. You’ll be the last to be called through. Try not to get too nervous. Think of unicorns and fluffy clouds or something.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his breezy attitude.
“And don’t let them scare you,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “All the casting directors and agents are big softies. I’ll see you on the flip side.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“Seriously, don’t look so nervous. No one bites.”
I smiled and then went to join the other models. The walls were covered in photos of the agency’s top models. I recognised a lot of them. What I wouldn’t have given to join them on the walls. I didn’t have much time to stare at the pictures before a woman with dyed red hair walked through a set of double doors. They swung shut behind her.
“Hi, I’m Rose. Please follow me.”
She turned on her heel and pressed the card on the lanyard around her neck to a security panel. The double doors clicked open. We filed after her into a corridor and up a winding set of stairs. Our shoes clanged on the metal steps, creating a racket and announcing our presence.
We went through another set of double doors into a corridor with the same industrial vibes as the ground floor. The wall to our left was covered in framed front covers of magazines, all graced by models signed by McKay’s. I pressed my hand over my fluttering stomach. Maybe one day, I’d be on the front cover of a magazine. Maybe one day, I’d be on that wall. I was getting carried away. I had to nail my feet to the floor. Otherwise, the disappointment of being rejected would hit me like a freight train.
Rose led us to the end of the corridor and into a conference room, which took up a whole corner of the floor. Two huge windows filled the room with light. There was a round table in the centre of the room, surrounded by comfy chairs. The tabletop was dark wood that someone had spent a lot of time polishing.
“Please let me have your portfolios and a comp card if you have one. Don’t worry. You’ll get the portfolios back before you leave. We’ll be keeping your comp cards.” She walked up to each of us, taking our portfolios. “There’s tea, coffee, and water. You’ll be done within the hour. Good luck.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.
I blew out a breath. There were ten chairs around the table, but there was space in the room for double that. We sat and started to chat among ourselves. It was polite conversation at best, making me miss Seth even more. I wished I’d asked him for his number at the last open call. I had a feeling he could have ended up being a good friend.
Five minutes later, the door opened, and a man in his late thirties smiled at us. He wore navy trousers and a pale-blue shirt with the top button undone.
“You all look nervous. There’s no need. My name’s Darius Griffiths. I’m one of the casting agents here at McKay’s, and I’m running the show today. I’ll be calling you through to my office one at a time for an informal chat.” He consulted the list he was holding. “Let’s start with Olly Carter.”
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as a guy with spiky blond hair followed Darius out of the boardroom. I tapped the table as quietly as I could. Damn, I was nervous. I remembered I hadn’t put my phone into aeroplane mode, so I did that quickly. It would have been embarrassing if someone had texted or called while I had an informal chat with Darius Griffiths.
By the time Darius came to get me, my hands were sweaty, and I’d drunk almost a gallon of water. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but it was enough that I needed to pee. Not that I could show that on my face or in the way I walked. I smiled as brightly as I could.
“Jae Cho?”
“Yes, that’s me.” I sounded like a fool. I was the last wannabe model to get called through. Who else would I have been?
“Wonderful, follow me.”
