“Model! You’re holding us up.” Pierre bellowed from the doorway. He stopped short when he saw me, his greasy hair flopping as his eyes racked up my body. On instinct, I pulled the coat closed. “What’s with the fur? Lose it.”
Literally, kill me.
I opened my mouth to argue, but the assistant beat me to it. “Really? I thought it was an inspired move on your part? Using some of the brands that the magazine specifically requested for the shoot ontheKit Sinclair? They’ll love it.”
“Oh.” He froze, his confusion palpable. “Yeah…of course.”
As he wandered off, muttering about his “artistic genius”, I looked to the assistant. “If this works, you should get a Christmas bonus.”
She smiled gratefully. “Since I seem to be the one in charge of this sinking ship, I hope they do that either way.”
I smiled back at her, stepping towards the set. It was time to make this fiasco halfway decent – or at least survive it.
It was a disaster.An hour in, I was already at my breaking point.
Pierre kept vanishing, sometimes to bark at a lighting tech or argue on his phone. He’d been pushing my boundaries, putting both Sienna and me into the oddest and most unnatural poses, shouting at us to move faster, to give himmorewithout clarifying whatmoreactually was.
“Okay, let’s wrap this up,” he declared, swaggering back into the room like he owned the place. “Just one more round. You.” He jabbed a finger straight towards me. “Get rid of the coat.”
The room froze, waiting to see if I’d do it, as he made his way to the back of the set. But I was done. Pierre had been pushing boundaries all night –pushing me– and now he wanted me to strip down further than we’d agreed, without consulting my agent or even the magazine. This wasn’t about art or professionalism. It was about a control I refused to yield.
I’d dealt with arseholes like him before, but I’d never felt this unprotected, never had the wardrobe assistant be my only defender.
“No.” I stood firm, my shoulders straight, fingers clutching the fur closed.
He paused midstep, turning to look over his shoulder. “What did you say?”
“No.” I swallowed, standing strong. “I’m not taking it off.”
“I’mthe photographer!” He slapped a hand to his chest, his voice rising. “If I tell you to do something, you fucking do it.”
“Or what?”
“Excuse me?”
“What are you going to do?” I pressed, my tone calm, controlled, unflinching.
The silence that followed was deafening. Nobody dared move or speak a word. The entire room’s attention was on us. The rest of the staff clearly wanted to get this wrapped up as soon as possible. Already running behind schedule, they had families to get home to, the wrap party to attend. I wasn’t worth the hassle.
“I’ll fire you,” Pierre spat. He was too used to taking advantage of models, of forcing them to do whatever he wanted.
But I was no longer a girl he could manipulate.
I’d met too many that thought they could. Casting directors and fashion designers like him who’d swear up and down you’retheir next muse until they get your clothes off. Cocky celebrities, actors, and tennis players who promise you the world, but by the time they’re done with you, they’ve taken the best part of you with them.
I was sick of it, thoroughly beaten down, tired of smiling through the pain. I was finally empty of polite phrases to use instead of screaming what I truly wanted to say.
I smiled coldly. “Go ahead, but if you think firing me is your biggest problem, you’re wrong. My agent will be raising a complaint with the magazine, and you’ll have bigger issues to worry about than me keeping my coat on.”
He stepped closer, his face inches from mine. “Take—it—off.”
“No.”
“Then get off my fucking set!” he screamed, the veins in his neck bulging.
“My pleasure.” I looked to Sienna, pointing to the photographer behind me who, by the sound of it, was promptly kicking and destroying the set. I kept my voice quiet, leaning into her ear. “Do not let him get you alone.” I drew back, looking her straight in the eyes so she could see how serious I was. No matter how new she was, models had to protect each other.
She nodded quickly, her lips pressed together as he continued to rage.
