You puffed out your cheeks in thought, swinging your legs as you sat on the small table. The dim lights made it hard to see, but then again your iPod’s screen lit up. Besides all you were doing at the moment was sit around and wait for your friend to finish up.
Your friend was quite a popular model ever since she’d been spotted on the street. She’d been hauled in by the modelling agency pretty much immediately. Today you’d agreed to go out for some cake but she’d cancelled at the last minute, saying she had a shoot to go to.
And well, you’d suggested that you’d go with her and afterwards you’d go and get some goodness from your favourite little cake shop, the one run by that adorable frenchie.
Your friend had been stressing out when you came to the shoot though, babbling on about the photographer being difficult to work with. So far the guy didn’t seem that bad. He was wearing simple clothes, a black polo neck and blue jeans, but there was something about him. Something that screamed ‘Professional!’.
His chestnut hair was tied up loosely, a couple of strands hanging around his ears as he snapped picture after picture. You gazed at him, not worried that he would turn around and see you doing so. His expression seemed to get more and more irritated though.
At one point he even growled, his narrowed eyes shooting up to glare at your friend. Sighing, he sat on the floor cross-legged and put his camera down.
Your friend rubbed her neck. “No good huh....” The photographer snorted at her. “Do you think these fake smiles look any good on you?! You’re supposed to pose in a natural way! Not one that’s so artificial even a small child could see you’re pretending!”
He took his camera again. “Now smile properly.” He commanded and your friend did her best to do as she was told. “He’s at it again...” you heard from beside you and you turned to see a blond man standing next to you. After a moment of thinking, you recognised him as the stylist.
“Does he throw temper tantrums a lot?” You asked, twirling your headphones between your fingers.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately. Daniel is a brilliant photographer.... but only when he likes the model. It’s tough finding someone who’s, well compatible with his wishes.”
Daniel frowned again, shaking his head. “No! C’mon do it right!” The stylist shrugged. “It’s a shame, if he didn’t keep rejecting models like this, he’d be incredibly famous by now.”
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and turned his back on your friend. “I need some coffee...” he muttered and signalled that it was time for a break. Your friend came up to you on the verge of tears.
“Hey, don’t worry, I thought you looked stunning.” You said, comfortingly hugging her and rubbing her back gently. She whimpered and hugged you back, though making sure she didn’t ruin her makeup. Closing your eyes, you rested your head on hers.
Daniel rolled his shoulders agitatedly, feeling like he was wasting his time. He glanced up at your friend, his eyes widening when he saw you. The way you were smiling so serenely, your hair framing your face beautifully.
“You.” Your head snapped up. “I want to take pictures of you.” You blinked, making yourself even more adorable in Daniel’s eyes.
He was standing in front of you, his hands on his hips and his cheeks slightly red. Your friend stared at you wide-eyed, obviously shocked. Laughing nervously, you snorted. “How about no?” You said, shaking your head with an awkward smile on your face.
His expression soured and he pouted, standing taller and looking down on you. “I don’t tolerate that word. Feliks!” The blond man from before reappeared. “On it~” He pulled you from your seat, your friend letting go of you in the process.
“Hey! I didn’t say- Wait a moment!” You protested as Feliks presented you with a different shirt. “Ah!” You slapped his hand away just as he was about to pull your top up and off. “F-fine, I’ll do it! Just let me change my own clothes!”
Feliks turned and to your great embarrassment you had to change your clothes behind a screen, through which your silhouette was visible for all to see. Your face red, you stepped out from behind the screen in your new outfit.
They fit you surprisingly well and as you stood in front of a full mirror, you were astounded by how well the clothes suited you. “C’mere.” Feliks beckoned you over, sitting you down on a chair and hovering around you, applying various types of makeup on your face and prettying your hair.
Looking at your reflection again, you could hardly recognise yourself. Did makeup and clothes really have that much of an effect on girls? Apparently so, you thought wryly as you were ushered out to where Daniel was standing.
He came over to you, inspecting you closely. “Yes... this is better...” he muttered under his breath, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile. He twirled a lock of your hair around his finger, pushing it back when it’d curled.
“I knew I had good eyes, but I wasn’t expecting this....” You blushed at his comment and looked away from him. “Is that meant to be a compliment?” Daniel grinned, already clicking away. He was holding his camera against his chest though and seemingly wasn’t looking what he was taking pictures of.
“The fact that I’m taking photos now is a compliment in itself.” It was a technique he used to let you feel more at ease, the more pictures he took the less self-conscious you became as he kept on talking, making funny comments and capturing your expression as you burst into laughter.
The time seemed to pass quickly and the rest of the staff were simply watching in awe as the two of you continued. Your friend was smiling, she never knew you could be as pretty as you were at that point.
After Daniel had filled his memory card with photos, he cleared his throat. He wanted to carry on, but that would be pointless. “I think I’ve got enough.” He told you, checking his camera and flicking through a couple of interesting shots.
Even though some of the photos only had half of your face on, some of them barely having you on them at all, they were good. Really good. They weren’t the typical centre formation ones, they were interesting.
“Wow.” You said, earning you a grin from a proud photographer. “I want to work with you again.” He leaned back as you stood behind him, watching as he flicked through a couple more.
“Let me guess, if I say no, you’ll keep on bugging me until I say yes.”
You wanted to see more photos though, so when he turned his camera off, you pouted. “That I will.”
He ruffled your hair up. “Don’t you want to take more pictures with me?” He asked, his head tilted to one side. His tied-back hair was slowly coming undone and he ran his fingers through it, retying it.
“I guess I do...” Your answer was faint but it certainly wasn’t half-hearted. “Good!” Daniel handed you a card as the staff started putting everything away. You looked at his card, noticing a small flower in the bottom corner.
“Well, I’ll see you again!” Daniel waved as he left, his camera cradled in his arms. Feliks asked you for the clothes back, promising you some better ones when you came back. In a slight daze, you and your friend went to get some cake, which was your original mission.
Daniel hummed as he walked home, a smaller digital camera in his hands as he snapped pictures of the surrounding trees and landscapes. He trembled with joy and fistpumped the air a couple of times.
“I’ve finally found her!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands out. He wanted to express the intense joy he was feeling in some form and settled on shouting it loudly.
“I’ve found my muse!”