Custom Made For You

Chapter 51- Hot Day, Bad Model

"I don't want to, I have some things tonight."

"Tomorrow night?"

"I don't know, okay? I just want to go to work, just let me go already, please." We weren't exactly late, I just really did not enjoy trying to hold the conversation any longer with that feeling of frustration in my chest. I didn't want to lash out, especially not at him.

"Sorry, I'll let you go now. Just tell me when you change your mind?" he sounded unsure yet full of hope.

I finally got off from the Ferrari after humming a half-hearted reply.

●◦●◦●◦

My phone vibrated. I grunted as I pulled out my phone to see who it was. At that point of the day, I was at a shooting location with a model and her team. Let's just say, she didn't have the best personality. It was already 2.50 p.m. and I was hoping to see Airi, guess that went out of the window.

Just meet me at the café last time. We can talk there. Probs gonna get off work at 8.

Well, Vastel did say that he was going to text me. I wanted to ask him more, yet my work load did not allow me to do so. In fact, I was forced to leave him on read (I'm not a jerk, I swear.) because of how much the model messed up.

The model's complaining about the sun was really starting to get on my nerves. Everybody had to stand under the sun with her, it wasn't as if the rest of the team was in the shades.

The saddest part wasn't the complaining. What hurt my heart was that she tore one of my dresses (well, not mine, I designed it. Actually, yeah, now that I think about it, technically mine.) that I had poured my heart and soul into, complaining that it was not her style. I could only clutch onto it tightly for the whole shoot. After all, it was my creation, I couldn't just let it go to waste.

I crossed my arms as I heard the photographer yell, "Alright, stop. Take five!"

We had just taken five three minutes ago. I couldn't sigh even if I wanted to because according to the model, it was "unprofessional" of me. We could have finished this 3 hours ago, if she weren't late, and if she hadn't thrown a tantrum about the weather and my dress.

I was glad that we had only the last dress to go. The longer I stood with this model, the more my brain cells die. I had no idea how her team could tolerate her at all. Frankly, I was impressed by anyone who could breathe the same air within her 5 metre radius for more than 20 seconds.

The model walked towards me, a smug look on her face.

"That was good, wasn't it? I look so much better in your other dresses," she scoffed, snatching the torn dress away from me.

My blood boiled. My eyebrows were twitching furiously, I could feel beads of sweat rolling down my face. "Miss, please give me back the dress. I will need it for future reference," I spat out the sentence word by word.

"You don't need this anymore. It's ugly, just throw it away," she commented snarkily, throwing the rainbow-coloured floral dress onto the ground, stepping on it.

"Miss, I don't think you understand what I had just said. I need it." I put a large amount of pressure on to the last three words.

"Oh, please, who do you think you are? Speaking to me like that. I said, you can throw it away. Everything you make is only half decent anyway, you disgusting faggot."

I looked at her in disbelief, it's the 21-century, what is wrong with her? I couldn't understand how my sexuality appeals to any of this, none of it made sense. Refusing to process what she had just said, I asked, "What did you just say?"

"That's right, I know you are gay, you gross homo. Just burn already, don't taint Luzien."

I squinted my eyes in confusion.

Luzien? Why is he in this?