“This all sounds wonderful, Brandon. Were you having a bad day because you were afraid to talk to me about this?”
Immediately his face fell, and the light in his bright blue eyes dissipated. His gaze dropped to his plate, and he started to move a piece of crust around.
“Brandon, you know you can talk to me, pup.”
“I was a little nervous, but my day turned sour after I talked to Salem. I told her about the pictures and how I was kind of interested in a photo shoot, and she wasn’t supportive. In fact, she pretty much reminded me about everything Sebastian had done to us. I told her that it might lead to me wanting to model again, kind of as a way for me to take back the control that had been taken from me. She acted repulsed by me.”
Dammit, Salem.
“Well, I can’t comment on too much of what might be going through her head. But keep in mind that she suffered from unwanted sexual photography. Just as you had. She is at a point where she can’t see the beauty or willingness in the photos hanging in Oxygen. And she may never. While you can’t fault her for that, you can’t base your decision to do something like this on her opinion.”
“I won’t, but she made me felt like shit.”
“I understand. If you want to go through with this, you have my full support. But please remember, you’re still early in your recovery. While it’s very brave of you to want to get in front of the lens again, facing your demons boldly, it would also be brave if you face the camera and have a change of heart. You will always have my full support, pup.”
“Thank you. I have the control over my body now.”
“Good, pup.” As long as he understood that he was in control to walk away from the photo shoot, I would encourage him. “So you think you might possibly want to get back into modeling, huh?” It was mainly to keep the conversation going and to see how far he’d thought this through.
“I don’t know exactly. I mean, I enjoyed it at the time. What high school kid didn’t want to strut around with the world watching? But that was before everything happened with Sebastian. I want to do the erotic photo shoot at Oxygen and then see how I feel after some time has passed.”
“I think that is wise.”
“Andrew said the photographer is coming next week to meet with members. Can we make an appointment?” he asked.
I smiled at him and pulled out my phone to text Andrew.
“Of course.”
When you get the chance, can you book us an appointment to meet with the photographer?
Yes! I’m so glad he talked to you about it. He really seems like he wants to try it out. How about Tuesday at two?
Tuesday at two works just fine. Is it safe to assume the appointments are at the club?
Yes. Come to the club, and we’ll have members who arrive early wait in the main room or bar. Then Morgan will meet privately with each person in one of the rooms. He’s just going to ask members what kind of photos they’re envisioning.
Sounds good. We’ll discuss this beforehand so when we arrive, we’ll be able to give the photographer well-thought-out responses. Thanks again.
See you Tuesday.
4
MORGAN
I wasglad to be back in the L.A. area for a few weeks to do some photo shoots at Club Oxygen. Since the club was close enough to where my parents lived in Beverly Hills, I’d stay with them for a while. They’d just remodeled their kitchen and were in the early stages of putting everything back in place. My younger brother stopped by to help them over the weekend, but as our parents were getting older, they didn’t have a lot of energy for manual household labor.
Waking up in my childhood room had always felt familiar. My parents upgraded the twin bed to a queen-sized, but a lot of my stuff remained. I took a shower and thought about the day ahead. I didn’t need to be at Oxygen until one in the afternoon, so I’d have time to visit and help my parents this morning. One of the things I looked forward to the most was being able to see my little brother Chase some more.
Unsure of what kind of help I’d be lending my parents this morning, I threw on some sweatpants, a t-shirt, and sneakers. I headed downstairs to the scent of coffee and checked my phone for texts and emails. I saw my usual morning text from my older brother Hollis and stopped on the stairs.
Hollis and I would send a morning text to one another showing off our scenery. This morning he was already out by his pool, the clear, bright blue sky was in the background. If there was one thing I’d been jealous of Hollis about it was the weather where he lived. I lived in the often gloomy and chilly San Francisco while Hollis soaked up the always perfect sun in Vegas.
But I knew my morning picture could top his.
“Mommm, where is Hulk Hogan?” I yelled from the steps, as if I were a teenager again.
Mom came into the foyer with her coffee cup in hand and looked up at me on the stairs.
