In Need

My studio was a two bedroom apartment that I had converted into a studio, the space was open and the row of west facing windows provided me with the best natural lighting in the afternoon. I kept a partial wall up to segregate the set for my photo shoots from the rest of the space and left the bathroom and the kitchen alone. Near the kitchen I had a couch, where I often had friends hanging around, and a small television.

"Where did you find your model, Norm?" Darrah asked from the bathroom where she was unloading the contents of her train case.

"Flannery's party," I said, looking through the clothes I'd been sent for the shoot.

"His party? Did you even call the agency?" She asked, popping her platinum head out of the bathroom and looking at me with raised eyebrows, "You know Vogue is picky as hell about this. And what if the clothes don't fit?" She pointed to the trunk I was searching through.

"If they don't like the photos, they don't have to use them. I'm just submitting them," I shrugged, pulling a pair of heels out of the bottom of the trunk. My buddy Andrew was putting together a fashion spread for the magazine and he'd asked if I would be willing to take some photos for it, "She's got a good look." Darrah eyed me skeptically before disappearing back into the bathroom muttering something about being 'unprofessional'. I smirked to myself, I wasn't a conventional, by the book type of person. I pulled a sequined tank top, a blazer and a pair of jeans out of the trunk followed by the bag of jewelry Andrew had also packed. I picked a few rings out before turning my attention to my stereo. I couldn't work without some good music.



I held the business card Norman had given me and double checked the address printed on it with the one on the brick building in front of me before I rang the call box.

"Hello?" Norman's voice came through the small speaker.

"It's Evelyn," I said, followed by a sigh. The door buzzed and I let myself into the lobby of the building. To the left were two elevators, I took the first one up to the top floor - the business card said 6A on it, letting me know which floor. The doors of the elevator opened, revealing Norman. He stood with his arms crossed, leaning a bit on a doorframe to what I guessed was his studio.

"Hello," I said curtly, adjusting my oversized sunglasses on my nose.

"Glad you could make it, Evie," he smiled widely. I stepped of the elevator as he spoke more, "No trouble finding the place?"

"It's Evelyn and nope," I responded sharply as the doors shut and the elevator was called away. Norman stood with his hand on the door knob, his eyes fixed on me.

"Look, this will go a lot smoother if you drop your attitude. If either of us should be pissed off, it's me."

"Don't talk to me like some child you're scoldin'," I said, the accent I'd worked so hard to conceal still surfaced when I got angry.

"I'm talking to you according to your behavior," he said crossing his arms. I gritted my teeth, remembering my foolish move of swiping the watch and filling with regret, "Can we do this professionally or not?"

"Sure," I said, swallowing my pride and stuffing my anger down.

"Good," He returned, opening the door to the large, open apartment. A pixie cut blond came out of what I assumed was the bathroom. She smiled as she looked me over.

"Hi," She extended a tiny hand to me, which I shook. She couldn't have been taller than 5 feet, "I'm Darrah, I'll be doing your hair and makeup today," Norman stood, watching Darrah look me up and down, "Is that your natural hair or extensions?"

"It's natural," I said, still hearing my accent as my hand went to my long, curly hair.

"You want her hair curly or straight?" Darrah asked Norman, "Vogue's had a lot of straight haired girls in their spreads-"

"Nah," Norman shook his head, "I like it curly."

"Vogue?" I questioned, looking between the tiny blonde and Norman's broad shouldered frame.

"You didn't tell her?" Darrah asked, crossing her arms.

"I was gonna," He started.

"Well?" I asked, waiting to be filled in.

"A friend of mine is doing a spread for vogue and asked if I would like to take the pictures. I agreed, but wanted it to be on my terms," He gestured to the space used for photography, "I don't like working at other studios, so here we are."

"And you couldn't have told me that? Don't I have to sign a contract or something?" I asked, a hand on my hip. Darrah headed back for the bathroom.

"A release form," Norman corrected me, going over to the black couch. He opened the messenger bag that sat there and dug out a piece of paper, "Just like this one," he smirked, bringing me the form and a pen. I took the paper and pen as nicely as I could and took it over to the counter. I scribbled my name angrily, "Thank you. Darrah's waiting for you in the bathroom."



"You model alot?" Darrah asked as I tried to sit still while she lined my eyes.

"Sometimes, mostly performing," I answered, staring up at the white ceiling, "I'm an impersonator," I admitted. Darrah stopped lining my eyes and pulled back to study my face for a few seconds.

"Marilyn?" She asked, I could almost see the lightbulb go off in her head. I gave her a nod, "You look a lot like her," I gave her a small smile in thanks as she finished up with my eyeliner, "How long have you been impersonating?"

"Four years," I answered.

"Are you from New York?"

"No, Georgia," I responded while she began applying my mascara, "I came here when I was 18."

"Me too," She grinned, "But that was back in the early 90s."

"Have you known Norman a long time?" He'd been scarce since I entered the bathroom, checking in on us only once after he put on some music.

"About fifteen years," Darrah said, "I helped with the makeup on Boondock Saints, before that I was doing makeovers at Macy's."

"Do you still do movies?"

"Mostly between filming for the Walking Dead," Darrah finished up with my face and the small blonde moved behind me to fix my hair. I observed her quietly while she ran product through my hair, trying to decide if she was the woman from the pictures in Norman's room, "How did you meet Norman?"

"I was entertaining at Sean Flannery's party," I said, being cautious with my answer. Darrah raised her eyebrows at me in the mirror and smirked, "Are you and Norman..." I trailed off.

The tiny blonde burst out laughing, "Oh my god, no," she stopped laughing and shook her head, "Honey, you're more my type. If you follow me."

"Ooooh," I said, realizing what she was telling me, "Gotcha."

There was a knock at the door and Norman poked his head in the room, "Almost done?"

"Mhm," Darrah nodded as she gave me a small pompadour, "Just finishing up." Norman nodded and took a look at me, he gave me a small smile before shutting the door to the bathroom.



"Hook your thumbs through the suspenders," Norman instructed, "And turn your face to the left a little." His camera snapped again as the clock struck eight, "Alright," He pulled the camera away from his face and walked over to turn off one of the lights, "I think we're done."

Darrah had left around six, leaving Norman and I alone. We had made small talk between shots and thankfully everything had gone smooth. I watched as Norman removed the memory card from his Nikon.

"Thanks for doing this," Norman said, heading over to the computer desk, "I'm gonna just look through these and touch 'em up; probably gonna send a few in."

"Mind if I look?" I asked, following behind him.

"Of course," He said, slipping into the chair and inserting his memory card. The photos appeared on the screen, Norman looked through them letting me see the images of myself, "I really like this last shot," He pulled the final picture up, "I'll have to look through them some more, but I think this might be the one I send."

"Let me know if they publish it," I said. After looking at the image I turned and headed for the bathroom. After changing back into the clothes I'd been wearing when I arrived, I gathered my thick hair up into a high bun and exited the room. Norman had turned off the rest of the lights he'd used for the photo shoot and turned down the music he'd had playing. He stood in the kitchen, a beer in one hand as he leaned against the counter.

"You want me to walk you out?" Norman smiled handsomely.

I hesitated, "Sure." I pulled open the door as he grabbed his jacket, we met up at the elevator.

"So, you're from Georgia?" He asked, looking up at the screen displaying the floor numbers, "What part?" I guessed he'd overheard me talking to Darrah.

"Macon," I replied as the elevator doors opened.

"I've been there," he nodded, "I love Georgia."

"Go there a lot?" I asked as we got on the elevator and he pressed the button marked one to take us to the first floor.

"That's where we film the Walking Dead," He answered, I nodded. We rode in silence the rest of the way down. Norman walked me out of the building and stood with me on the sidewalk while I waited for a cab, "Thanks again for coming out, you were great," He said.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm sorry for taking your watch."

"No hard feelings," He smiled as a car pulled up, "Have a goodnight, Evie."

"You too, Norm," I replied, pulling open the door to my cab. We stood their awkwardly for a few seconds, our eyes focused on one another, I felt a blush spreading across my cheeks and a surge of confidence "Who's the girl in the pictures?" I started, "The ones in your room?"

He looked surprised and ran a hand over the back of his neck, "My ex."

"You gettin' in?" The cabbie questioned

"Yeah, I am," I replied before turning my attention to Norman, "I'll see you around, I guess," I gave him one last smile before slipping into the car and shutting the door. The car pulled away from the curb and after we merged into traffic, I looked out the rear window to see Norman still standing where I'd left him.