TRAGIC: Rook and Ronin, #1 (13 page)

"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.

The outfit was not what I was expecting. In fact, I almost laugh when I take it out of the garment bag. It's a pair of well-worn jeans and a dark red t-shirt. Both of which look like they came from the men's department so they are monumentally too big for me, but I do what I was told, pull on the jeans, and slip the shirt over my head. There's no bra or panties in the bag, so I'm commando on both ends.

When I study myself in the mirror I can only sigh. Why did Elise get me all made up just to wear some old, half-ripped jeans and a cruddy t-shirt?

I walk out barefoot, because there were no shoes in the bag either.

At first I figured finding Roger could not be that hard, but there are no blond guys with cameras, so I just stand there until one of the girls comes out of the dressing room and I grab her attention real quick. "Roger?" I ask, as if that explains everything. She points to a guy who is sitting on a table on the far side of the studio. I turn to say thank you, but the girl is gone.

I take a deep breath and walk over towards Roger. He spies me coming from a distance and walks to meet me.

Well, that was nice.

"Ruth?"

"Ah, no. I'm Rook."

"Rook, right. That's what I meant. OK, Antoine just wants the standard portrait shots and then if we have time, I'll take some artistic ones of you and Billy since he has the other half of this outfit on."

He points to a shaggy-haired guy across the room who is also wearing an old pair of weathered jeans and a red t-shirt. Only his are much smaller than mine. "Maybe they got the clothes mixed up?" I say out loud before I can stop myself.

Roger laughs. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, his clothes look awfully tight and mine are awfully loose. It makes no sense."

He eyes me cautiously. "You're really new, aren't you?"

"First day," I reply as the nervousness appears in my stomach as a billion butterflies. "Why? Is there some secret about the clothing sizes that I should know about?"

He shrugs. "Ready then? Go stand over there and then we'll adjust the lights." I do as I'm told and stand on a little x taped to the floor. He's got four helpers just for us and they bustle around with lighting things and the background image, which is just black.

And that's pretty much where my thoughts stop. The rest is just turning and looking, and changing position, and closing my eyes, then opening them. I do a whole lot of things—standing, sitting, kneeling.

But the one thing I never get asked to do is smile.

Again.

This is weird to the point of almost being creepy because the last time I was here Antoine never asked me to smile either.

"OK, Rook, go grab Billy over there and we'll set up for the artistic shots."

I nod out a yes, but this makes me jitter with nervousness. I walk slowly over towards the Billy guy. His shoot is over and he's just hanging out with a girl.

A girl who looks pretty pissed off that I just walked up to them and interrupted.

"Uh, sorry. Excuse me, Billy? Roger asked me to come get you."

The girl sneers at me then kisses Billy, drags her fingernail down his chest, and whispers, "Call me later," as she saunters off. I watch her for several seconds before turning back.

Billy is watching me.

I smile.

He sighs and walks over towards Roger.

Shit, these people are not as friendly as I'd hoped. Even Elise was kinda short and testy with me today. I look up at a giant clock on the wall and wonder when the day will end. It's already almost six o'clock and I'm very hungry. I munched on my take-home breakfast from Cookie's the other day, but that was right after I came home from Ronin's and I didn't have any lunch. Maybe this is why models are so skinny—there's no food around!

I reach Roger a few seconds after Billy and they are already positioning him on a bed that has somehow materialized. My heart beats a little faster and my eyes dart around to try and figure out what we're doing.

"Relax, Rook. There's a reason for the loose clothing, it's so that when Billy here gropes you the clothes show some skin. So go ahead and sit down next to him and we'll get this started."

Gropes me?
I'm thinking I'm saying that out loud, but I'm not. So no one explains, but Billy does get up and take my hand and leads me over to the bed.

"First time?" he asks casually as we stand there.

"What?"

"For an artistic shoot? I haven't seen you around before and you look pretty nervous."

"I am," I confess. "I've never done this before."

He slips his hand up my shirt and all I hear is the rapid clicking of a camera shutter. I look around and the shoot has started.

"Don't worry, it'll be quick." He tugs on my shirt, exposing my belly, then pulls it up and leans in to kiss me. I don't know what I'm thinking but I let him. This is work, right? This is what they do? Kiss each other?

I have no idea, but his hands are all over me, his mouth is traveling down my neck fast, and I'm starting to shake.

"Easy," he whispers. "He won't shoot long. Just listen to me, OK?"

I nod.

"Just let me do my thing, pretend you're in love with me and my hands are a gift from God, and he'll get his shots and we can go eat or something."

Is he asking me out? I am so confused but I do what I'm told. It's not that hard, Billy is doing all the work, really. His hands do the groping, pulling the red shirt this way and that, exposing my skin, my belly here, parts of my breast there. It's OK. This is work.

"OK, Rook," Roger says, interrupting my thoughts. "Take his shirt off,
slowly
."

Oh, shit.

"Any day now, Rook."

I nod. OK. I lift up the bottom of his shirt—

"Slower, Rook."

Right. Slowly.

"Now look at him while you do it."

This gets very personal, very fast. Because Billy here has a hard-on, I can feel it as he presses his leg against my hip, and his eyes look like he's about to throw me down on the bed and make me scream his name right here in front of the whole studio filled with people.

"Keep working, Rook."

I tug the shirt up again and Billy lets out a moan. "Shit, Rook," he says. "You're sexy. I don't even have to try."

I do try… and ignore him, that is. But it's pretty hard when Roger is constantly telling me to look Billy in the eyes. Finally,
finally
I get the shirt over his head and then he starts on mine.

"Am I supposed to take my shirt off?"

"Just go with it, Rook, or we'll be here all fucking night."

Billy leans in to kiss me and the shutter goes wild again.

"Slower this time, Billy. I need lips for stock art."

Billy slows down and takes his time coming at me.

"Rook, either respond or we'll have to do it again."

I do my best, but I'm not that great of a kisser and Billy here is doing enough for both of us. His hands slip around my waist, pulling me close. "Touch me, Rook, let the man get his photos."

I allow my hands to travel up his torso and feel a shiver burst from his skin. My body responds the same way as his hand slips under my shirt and then he spins me around, lifting the loose fabric up as his hand explores my breast. He's kissing my neck and tugging on the jeans. They are so loose, they almost fall down my hips. This makes Roger call out a "Nice, Billy! Do that some more," to which Billy responds by slipping his hand right between my legs.

I let out a giant gasp and Billy is about to swipe my shirt clean off when Ronin is up in his face screaming. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I'm discarded by Billy, instantly forgotten as the two of them push each other.

Roger is trying to run interference and then Ronin pushes Billy so hard he comes hurtling towards me, knocking against my shoulder, and sends me crashing to the ground.