Control Yourself

Forrest insisted on dropping Shae off at the studio Wednesday morning, even though the club was on the other side of town. Shae slung her tote bag onto her shoulder, pecking Forrest’s cheek before hopping out of the truck, slamming the door after her. She inhaled sharply, slipping in through the door, assaulted by soothing music, a small, Zen water fountain in the corner, as well as a pale, lavender colour splashed across the walls. The secretary at the desk, with her sleek headset through her flaxen blond hair, looked up, her brown eyes cross-examining Shae.

Shae gulped, approaching the desk, clutching the card in her hands.

“I, uh—“ Shae started.

“You must be Miss Dawson,” The girl interrupted her, smiling widely. “Please, go around back – Mr. Berkley is waiting.”

Shae did as she was told; sheepishly walking around the desk, noticing that behind the lavender wall, there was a hallway. She gulped, gripping the card stock in her hands even tighter. Shae curiously peeked down the odd hallway or into the occasional room, seeing a collection of costumes, back drops, and vanity desks – stocked with cosmetics and beauty accessories. Finally, Shae entered the studio; it was a large room with high ceilings, lots of open space with a large, white back drop set up. There was a professional camera, perched up on a tri-pod, as well as a vanity desk just off set, complete with the fold-able chair for the model.

Mr. Berkley, also known as ‘guy in expensive suit from mall’, came striding over to Shae, smiling widely.

“Wonderful to see you,” He beamed. “Just wonderful.”

Shae simply smiled and nodded.

“Chanel!” Mr. Berkley hollered over his shoulder. “We need wardrobe for Dawson.”

A head of fierce red hair poked out from behind the back drop. The girl hurried off out of the studio, towards the room Shae had looked into filled with costumes.

“Are you nervous?” He asked paternally. Shae shrugged.

“A little…” She admitted.

“Well, don’t be,” His tone dropped. “The camera knows it, and it’ll show. Just relax – you’re a shoe in.”

Chanel, whom Shae took to be Mr. Berkley’s assistant, came back with the costumes or, lack there of. On the metal rack with the two wheels at each end, Chanel carted the itty bitty bikinis and lingerie towards the edge of the set. Shae sighed.

“Put her in plum and get her make-up done,” Mr. Berkley said firmly, heading over to adjust the camera. Chanel tossed a dark purple bikini at Shae; she caught it, reluctantly, before Chanel dragged her off to a small changing screen.

“Hope you’re not camera shy,” Chanel grinned. Shae giggled nervously, stripping out of her clothes behind the screen, hurriedly adjusting and tying up the strings of the bikini.

“We’ll find out,” She said, stepping out from behind the screen, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Chanel dragged her back over to the vanity desk, forcing her into the folding chair, applying make-up to her soft features. Shae was afraid to look at the ending result; however, she didn’t have much time as Chanel then shoved a pair of black, patent heels at her. Shae sighed, strapping them onto her feet, carefully sliding out of the chair, wobbling over to the back drop.

“Stunning, just stunning,” Mr. Berkley said from behind the camera. Shae nervously giggled. “Now, pose for me, Shae.”

Shae didn’t have the fondest idea of what to do. She placed her hands on her hips, sticking them out to the side, narrowing her eyes at the camera.

“Beautiful, purely beautiful…” Mr. Berkley snapped away photos. “Chanel!” He barked. “Get the wind machine.”

Shae giggled, outstretching her arms in the air, bending one arm at the elbow, resting it across her head. From her right side, there was a gentle breeze, whispering through her hair and against her bare skin. She felt like a goddess, the center of attention; a star. Her confidence radiated through her poses. Shae had never felt so alive.

“You were born for this,” Mr. Berkley told her at the end of the shoot, leaning against the changing screen as she stripped out of the turquoise mono-kini she had been wearing for the final shoot. Shae giggled.

“Thank you,” She said, pulling on her plain, grey v-neck t-shirt over her head, zipping up her vintage washed jeans. “This is such an experience.”

Shae slipped her feet back into her black flip-flops, slinging her tote onto her shoulder, gathering her hair over her slender shoulder as she slipped out from behind the changing screen. Mr. Berkley eyed her, smirking. Shae gulped, gripping onto the straps of her tote bag.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” She finally said nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Mr. Berkley chuckled.

“You’re a shoe-in,” He said. “Trust me; you’ve got it.”

After scheduling another shoot in two week’s time, Shae quickly called Forrest, pacing outside the studio’s front door.

“How’d it go?” His voice asked eagerly. Shae grinned.

“He said I was a shoe-in!” She gushed. “I have another shoot in two weeks, but he’s sending my photos from today in this afternoon!”

“Baby, that’s incredible!” Forrest beamed. “I told you you were beautiful…”

Shae rolled her eyes.

“Can you come pick me up?” She asked, changing the subject, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Forrest chuckled.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a sec,”