A Thousand Lifetimes

09:37

Josh groaned as he pressed the button on his iPhone, catching sight of the time. He hated early mornings, even if it was in aid something fun like a photo or video shoot. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and leant his head on the car window, attempting to catch a few more minutes of sleep before the photo shoot they were doing for Rock Sound magazine.



Elina leant her head on her hand as she flicked through her Twitter feed, trying to ignore the dull throbbing pain in her head caused by the hair stylist who was straightening her hair. She had been doing this for almost three years and yet, she still hadn’t gotten used to the hands in her hair and on her face. Usually Elina was polite, or at least tried to be, but she knew if this stylist kept pulling her hair, there would be serious issues.

To try and distract herself from the pain, she pressed the ‘New Tweet’ button and typed out, Hair and make-up for photoshoot. Bitch stylist better stop pulling at my hair! #headache

Several long minutes and a few bites to one of her fingers later, Elina’s hair and make-up was done. Someone helped her into her wardrobe for that day, a pair of shorts, leather jacket and a tank top and some killer heels. It was more casual than what she was used to which was a welcome change. She was hoping the shoot would be more laid back than her normal shoots as well – she could do with a break from all the high-end fashion shoots she’d been doing lately.



“Alright guys!” Tom Barnes greeted the boys as they arrived in the studio, “I’ve just got to brief the model and then we’ll get started,” Tom turned from the boys and walked a few steps before turning back around, “Go into hair and make-up and get yourselves ready.”

Elina’s nerves were in shreds. This always happened before a shoot. Her mother’s voice would creep into her head, asking if she’d made the right life choices and whether she was sure her body was right for modelling and a million other things that made her insecure with herself. She was about to reach for her water bottle when there was a small knock at the door.

“Come in,” She croaked, zipping her bag shut.

“Hi Elina,” A man, not much older than herself spoke as he opened the door, “I’m the photographer for today, Tom.” He held out his hand, which Elina took and shook.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiled, letting her arm drop to her side.

“I just wanted to brief you on the shoot,” He smiled, “Basically, the theme is sort of a festival gone wrong,” He stopped to laugh at himself, “Basically, everything that could go wrong, is going to go wrong, so someone’s going to eat dodgy food, there’s going to be mosh pit injuries, lots of fun stuff.”

“Sounds it,” Elina forced a smile, “I just hope these guys have more festival experience than me.”

“They’ve played a few,” Tom smirked, “Take a few minutes to relax and then meet me out front and we’ll do a few test shots.”

Elina waited for him to shut the door to the small room she’d been given to get ready in before she dived into her bag, pulling out the full water bottle. She opened it and smelt it to make sure she’d picked up the right one and to her elation the smell of pure vodka hit her nostril. She took a large gulp and felt the strong liquid course through her. She took two more gulps before zipping the bottle back into her bag and going out to face the shoot.



After being introduced to the guys, who seemed like pretty cool guys to Elina, they started the shoot. Tom roped in a few guys from the crew to make a small mosh pit. Elina had no idea what the etiquette of a mosh pit was, but with the vodka still working in her blood, she went along with it, being thrown around and nearly falling a few times. It wasn’t until the smallest member of the band, Max, had fallen over, that Tom took the shot. Laughing, Elina helped him up, trying not to fall over herself from a mixture of alcohol and dizziness.

The rest of the shoot went pretty much the same way, Elina had a lot of fun, eating a hot dog and then pretending to be sick, halfway pretending to be drunk and pretending to get it on with the drummer from the band.

She was glad however, when Tom called it a wrap and she could get rid of the make-up from her face, tie her hair back and finish the contents of the bottle in her bag. Before she could get away though, she felt some take hold of her wrist and her defensive side came out.

“It’s rude to grab people,” She spoke, snatching her wrist from the singer of the band, Josh. On seeing his face, she softened though, “Sorry, I just don’t like it when people touch me.”

“It’s alright love,” He grinned, “I just wanted to say thanks for today.”

“It’s no problem,” She forced a smile, “It’s my job, it’s what I get paid for. It was a welcome change though.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, obviously not taking in the nervous jitters of Elina’s leg that told her if she didn’t get to her vodka soon, something bad was bound to happen.

“I’m usually doing high fashion stuff.” She said simply, trying to end this conversation so she could get back to her room at the studio.

“Oh right, like proper designer stuff that no-one really wears.” He stated.

“Yeah, that kind of thing.” Elina said as she turned to leave.

“Hey wait!” Josh called after her, “I wanted to know if you wanted to get drink with me and the rest of the band tonight?”

“I can’t, I’ve got an early morning shoot.” She lied, continuing to walk away.

“Can I at least get your number?” He called.

“Ask Tom for it if you’re that desperate.”

And with that, Elina left the studio floor, breaking out in to a run. She needed to get as far away from Josh as she could. She didn’t do well with human contact outside of what she really had to. She could talk to clients and photographers on the studio floor during business, but anything after that made her nervous and nauseous. She almost cried with relief as she slipped into the small room and closed it behind her without any form of human contact.

She rushed to the bench that had her bag on it and knelt, unzipping it quickly, taking out the bottle and sipping it first. She moved to sit on the floor and kicked off her shoes, draining the water bottle of vodka in under 5 minutes. She slightly regretted it when she stood and stumbled a little. She regretted it even more when she fell over three times trying to change to go home.

Before she left to catch a cab home, she folded the clothes she had been styled in and set them on the bench next to her bag. She sat down for a moment to try and calm herself down and make herself seem at least a little bit sober. She put her head in her hands and breathed deeply a few times but when she looked up the room was spinning a little.

I’ve got to get home. She though. But is home really any better? Her mind seemed to ask.