Be a Model! (Private, Solo)

“Me, a model?” Siennah asked, one hand on her cheek.

Sorcerer Weekly’s recruiter nodded with so much enthusiasm that Siennah began to worry about the safety of his brain. It must be knocking around in his skull something awful. His hair was styled in a pompadour, which also flapped around wildly. There were a half-dozen sparkling studs or rings in each of his ears, and two studs just under his lips. Combined with the leather jacket, mirrored sunglasses, and torn jeans, he didn’t give the impression of a professional. The wizard had to wonder if this guy was who he said he was. Maybe it was a scam, or one of those human-trafficking things she heard about.

My, you would have to have some sort of nerve to start that kind of operation in the middle of Fiore. But, that couldn’t be it. Could it?

The recruiter derailed Siennah’s wild imagination as he spoke.

“Absolutely! We already have several people for the shoot, but we could really use a model with a more mature, refined beauty!” he said.

Mature.

Siennah bristled. Was he calling her old? Was he saying that her age was showing? Part of her wished that this was a scam of some kind so she could send this guy flying. Right over the horizon! Alright, definitely not that far. But, she’d send him flying nonetheless!

“Oh-Alright. Well, I guess I have the time,” Siennah struggled to keep a smile on her face.

“Yes! Perfect!” The man with the pompadour grinned, face going bright as he beamed with satisfaction.

“This issue’s theme is being eco friendly, but now I’ll steal the show and show everyone a mature woman’s charm! Wild!” He was near sparkling with his own dreams at that point. It was almost like his was stuck in a daydream, judging by his rosy cheeks and spaced-out expression.

Maybe punting this guy over the horizon was too good for him, Siennah thought bitterly.

The wizard deflated a step when she finally arrived at the shoot site. There were a dozen Sorcerer Weekly employs bustling around between tents and canopies, adjusting light reflectors, and the various props and furniture pieces on the set. Some sharply-dressed individuals hurried bags of accessories and hangers of clothing into one tent—presumably where the models dressed. One straggler ran after them with a lacrima-powered steamer and iron, plus folding ironing board.

Legitimate after all. There went Siennah’s excuse to show her anger at the guy with the pompadour.

The petite woman had little time to sulk, as one young woman from Sorcerer Weekly rushed her over to the changing tent right away. Several other models were inside, and getting their make-up put on or getting final adjustments made on their clothing coordination’s. On the inside, the tent smelled like fresh laundry and cosmetics. One woman went around with a make-up brush, dusting a powder on each model to prevent them from washing out in photographs.

“This is the latest Chanelle collection. The materials are all made of plant fibers that take less time to grow than what is currently popular. The by-products of the production can also be used as fertilizer to return nutrients to the soil. All of the previous cloth before this collection has been a little stiff, so we want to emphasize movement and the fine texture. We’re hoping for some good wind,” One of Chanelle’s assistants began explaining and showing a few simple poses for the complete amateurs, like Siennah.

In the end, she was dressed in a dark, peony red dress, sandals, and a number of pale, ivory-colored accessories. Siennah and most of the other models had dried flowers pasted to their skin and faces as something close to temporary tattoos. The, it was time for the shoot itself.

Twice, the wind picked up in the forest, causing the photographers to whirl into a flurry of picture-taking. One had three cameras hanging off of her neck, switching to another when the first was full of photographs. Siennah’s dark hair whirled in the wind, like a pile of shiny black ribbons. In the background, the man with the pompadour continued sparkling, every once in a while yelling something about the appeal of an older woman.

Everything continued until the photographers said that the sunlight could no longer be used—after the Golden Hour. Then the staff began packing up. All of the models returned to the tent, and changed into their normal clothes. Siennah sighed when she was done. It turned out to be another long day, again.

Siennah was afraid to pick up that issue of Sorcerer Weekly.

(Word Count: 771 (150x5=750 words)