Tragic
Page 28
That question sounds loaded, but I choose to ignore that and answer honestly. "Yes, great, thanks."
If she's interested in that answer she doesn't show it because the water is streaming down my head and she's busy doing her job. It's not relaxing like it was last time, it's tense. My whole neck is tense, even as she does a little scalp massage.
"Ronin won't be back until tonight. He asked me to tell you."
"OK, thanks," I manage to say as she rinses and then applies some conditioner to my long tresses.
"I'm going to have Josie trim your hair. You need it badly."
"OK." I agree because what am I gonna say? I figure that was not really a question, just a statement of facts. Rook, I control you now, so I'm going to have someone cut your hair.
"Then you'll sit for Roger. Antoine has to do some retakes, so he can't shoot you today. Roger is good, though. That's one thing you can count on here—everyone does their job well or they are asked to leave."
This sounds like a warning, but maybe I should be thankful? It gives me some control back. If I do my job well I can stay. If I don't, then I can go. It's up to me really. I'm not exactly sure what's all entailed in doing a good job at modeling, but I imagine it has a lot to do with following directions.
And that rubs me wrong too. Because that takes away the control I'm trying to talk myself into thinking I have.
Who am I kidding? I'm not in control at all.
Elise is done with my hair so she pushes on me to sit up. The water drips all over my t-shirt and she rubs the towel over my head, but my hair is so long it spills out and drags the water along with it.
"I like your shirt. I have one like that too, we did a shoot for them a few months ago."
I look up at her to see if she's joking, but she's not paying attention to me, she's calling for Josie to come do my trim. "It came from your closet, Ronin said I could have it," I confess.
She looks back at me and smiles. "Oh good. We have hundreds of them left. I like it but shit, ya know? A hundred of them is too many. All the girls took what they wanted, you take as many as you like."
She introduces Josie and I don't even bother contradicting the fact that Elise just told her to remove four freaking inches off the length of my hair. I just sit still and let them control me because all I can think about is how Ronin picked this shirt for me, so maybe he knew they had so many no one would care? I thought it was nice until I learned it was unwanted.
I snort out a laugh at the absurdity of my reasoning.
"You OK, sweetie?"
What's with the sweetie stuff around here? Is this how grown women talk to each other? "Yeah," I mumble. "Just thinking of something." I sit quietly after that and just let Josie do her thing. When she's done cutting she starts blow-drying, Elise is busy with another girl on the other side of the salon, but when she's done she comes back and begins to wrap my hair in hot rollers. "Roger wants big bouncy curls, he said. So, that's what you get today."
"OK." That's pretty much the extent of my vocabulary right now. Just agree, Rook. Just agree and take your money and then you'll have more choices, but right now, you just have to do what you're told.
When she's done Elise ushers me over to another part of the salon and someone applies makeup while another girl does my nails. "You need toes today, honey?"
I shrug. That's not a question I can answer with OK. The would-be pedicurist leaves to ask Elise, and I can hear Elise become frustrated and tell her to get busy on my feet.
I've never had a pedicure, and maybe if I was paying for it and I was somewhere I could relax, I might enjoy it. But right now the last thing I want is this woman touching my toes. I balk a little when she starts rubbing cream on them, but she mistakes that for being ticklish. "Don't worry, hun. I'm not a tickler. You'll be fine."
I suck in a deep breath and let them do their thing.
When I'm done my hair is filled with loose bouncy curls, my nails and toes are both cherry red, and my make-up has me looking like I should be walking Colfax with the whores.
Elise comes back as I sit there, feeling stupid and fake. The other girls are on a break and the place has quieted down considerably since my arrival. For some reason I imagined models and artsy photographers as being afternoon people, but what do I know?
"OK, Rook. You're up." She thrusts a garment bag at me. "Since you've met the dressing room, go on and get dressed—only put on what's in the bag. When you're done, go find Roger, he's the blond one."
I don't even get to say OK this time. She walks off, calling for someone else.
Chapter Twenty-Two - ROOK
The dressing room has a few girls in it, but they ignore me and concentrate on themselves.
I take the hint and do the same.
Or I try to, because they are all naked and I'm just not ready to get naked in the middle of the room with these girls.
A tiny girl, someone who looks like the opposite of the image you have in your head when you say the word model, stops in front of me and smiles. "First day?"
I try not to notice she's got no shirt on, but I think I fail. "Yeah."
She nods her head towards the other side of the room. "There's privacy stalls over there if you need one." And then she saunters off, her long blonde hair bouncing along her butt.
Modest these girls are not. I look down at myself and get a sick feeling. I'm not sure I can get naked in front of them so I opt for the private dressing rooms.
If she's interested in that answer she doesn't show it because the water is streaming down my head and she's busy doing her job. It's not relaxing like it was last time, it's tense. My whole neck is tense, even as she does a little scalp massage.
"Ronin won't be back until tonight. He asked me to tell you."
"OK, thanks," I manage to say as she rinses and then applies some conditioner to my long tresses.
"I'm going to have Josie trim your hair. You need it badly."
"OK." I agree because what am I gonna say? I figure that was not really a question, just a statement of facts. Rook, I control you now, so I'm going to have someone cut your hair.
"Then you'll sit for Roger. Antoine has to do some retakes, so he can't shoot you today. Roger is good, though. That's one thing you can count on here—everyone does their job well or they are asked to leave."
This sounds like a warning, but maybe I should be thankful? It gives me some control back. If I do my job well I can stay. If I don't, then I can go. It's up to me really. I'm not exactly sure what's all entailed in doing a good job at modeling, but I imagine it has a lot to do with following directions.
And that rubs me wrong too. Because that takes away the control I'm trying to talk myself into thinking I have.
Who am I kidding? I'm not in control at all.
Elise is done with my hair so she pushes on me to sit up. The water drips all over my t-shirt and she rubs the towel over my head, but my hair is so long it spills out and drags the water along with it.
"I like your shirt. I have one like that too, we did a shoot for them a few months ago."
I look up at her to see if she's joking, but she's not paying attention to me, she's calling for Josie to come do my trim. "It came from your closet, Ronin said I could have it," I confess.
She looks back at me and smiles. "Oh good. We have hundreds of them left. I like it but shit, ya know? A hundred of them is too many. All the girls took what they wanted, you take as many as you like."
She introduces Josie and I don't even bother contradicting the fact that Elise just told her to remove four freaking inches off the length of my hair. I just sit still and let them control me because all I can think about is how Ronin picked this shirt for me, so maybe he knew they had so many no one would care? I thought it was nice until I learned it was unwanted.
I snort out a laugh at the absurdity of my reasoning.
"You OK, sweetie?"
What's with the sweetie stuff around here? Is this how grown women talk to each other? "Yeah," I mumble. "Just thinking of something." I sit quietly after that and just let Josie do her thing. When she's done cutting she starts blow-drying, Elise is busy with another girl on the other side of the salon, but when she's done she comes back and begins to wrap my hair in hot rollers. "Roger wants big bouncy curls, he said. So, that's what you get today."
"OK." That's pretty much the extent of my vocabulary right now. Just agree, Rook. Just agree and take your money and then you'll have more choices, but right now, you just have to do what you're told.
When she's done Elise ushers me over to another part of the salon and someone applies makeup while another girl does my nails. "You need toes today, honey?"
I shrug. That's not a question I can answer with OK. The would-be pedicurist leaves to ask Elise, and I can hear Elise become frustrated and tell her to get busy on my feet.
I've never had a pedicure, and maybe if I was paying for it and I was somewhere I could relax, I might enjoy it. But right now the last thing I want is this woman touching my toes. I balk a little when she starts rubbing cream on them, but she mistakes that for being ticklish. "Don't worry, hun. I'm not a tickler. You'll be fine."
I suck in a deep breath and let them do their thing.
When I'm done my hair is filled with loose bouncy curls, my nails and toes are both cherry red, and my make-up has me looking like I should be walking Colfax with the whores.
Elise comes back as I sit there, feeling stupid and fake. The other girls are on a break and the place has quieted down considerably since my arrival. For some reason I imagined models and artsy photographers as being afternoon people, but what do I know?
"OK, Rook. You're up." She thrusts a garment bag at me. "Since you've met the dressing room, go on and get dressed—only put on what's in the bag. When you're done, go find Roger, he's the blond one."
I don't even get to say OK this time. She walks off, calling for someone else.
Chapter Twenty-Two - ROOK
The dressing room has a few girls in it, but they ignore me and concentrate on themselves.
I take the hint and do the same.
Or I try to, because they are all naked and I'm just not ready to get naked in the middle of the room with these girls.
A tiny girl, someone who looks like the opposite of the image you have in your head when you say the word model, stops in front of me and smiles. "First day?"
I try not to notice she's got no shirt on, but I think I fail. "Yeah."
She nods her head towards the other side of the room. "There's privacy stalls over there if you need one." And then she saunters off, her long blonde hair bouncing along her butt.
Modest these girls are not. I look down at myself and get a sick feeling. I'm not sure I can get naked in front of them so I opt for the private dressing rooms.
