My Secret Family

The Poser (2)

Sophie

45 kg and falling

He met me outside and I followed him up the dirty old stairs to the fifth floor, catching a flash of a little tattoo on the back of his wrist that said, "You are not here".

Max's apartment had wooden floors covered in old rugs woven with geometric patterns, the type you would expect to see in a hunting lodge or an old lady's forest home, the ends of the rugs torn and frayed like old dogs snoozing by the fire. These rugs had been. An antique desk skulked against the wall next to the window, covered in scratches but built solid, yet with grace. The living space shared the room with an open plan kitchen that was more like a counter with a little oven and a kettle than a kitchen. A little corner overlooking town. He handed me a mug of Earl Gray tea with honey, the teabag tag hanging over the edge just how I liked it. I had jogged down-town to pose for him, thinking I could kill two birds with one stone, confronting my anxiety by jogging through the least desirable part of town. I fought every step against the nerves and the doubt that could at any moment turn me around and send me back home to the cocoon of my warm and safe bed. I could have sent one of my list of excuses that I had used too many times before - sorry, not feeling well, car trouble, my grandmother/cousin/dog is sick. He would not know how much this moment had tormented me, just how much it made me confront myself and despite a thousand reasons not to be here I felt there was something important and profound to learn by doing this. Something I may never experience again.

I didn't feel threatened by him, I felt sure he wouldn't try anything, but I was worried he would try to kiss me.

The chilly and gusty winds whispered outside, but his apartment was a cozy escape from the elements. His shelves were covered in books and exquisitely detailed figurines, none of whom I recognized. Through the only other door I saw a tiny bathroom with a shower over a bath; I counted five different types of bubble- bath but only one toothbrush. His living space was also the bedroom, the fold-out bed doubling as a sofa. It was a spaced designed for one, cramped now with two. I was in his space. He kept dropping his pencils, amplifying my nerves.

"It's a bit small, " he confessed. "I'm saving for a separate studio but the rent in town is insane. " He slid a sheet of paper against a piece of card on his paint-splattered easel and pulled it towards the sofa-bed where he sat. I collapsed into the soft armchair and looked at the paintings leaning against the walls and the little sketches stuck above the desk. Thankfully they were not of me, despite my ego and vanity being a little disappointed at the lack of pictures of me the little part in me that didn't like psychos, the little part that I always punched down and made lie in the corner until I had made enough bad choices to entertain myself, was relieved. One of the sketches was of a group of thin shadowy girls lowering a coffin into the ground.

Outside the portal window the magnificent view of the Colma cemeteries sprawled across green hills to the horizon. I tried to find a pose, hanging my legs over the armrest like Bri had done, but felt ridiculous so l moved around trying to find some combination of angels I could hold. Even though I had practiced posing in secret, now confronted with the reality I found I had no idea what to do. Outside I counted five sprawling green graveyards with their gray spines of stone, each tiny monument desperately trying to remind the world, Here Once Was I. In the distance a group of mourners walked solemnly behind a man in a purple suit while down the road a delivery truck backed into a fast food restaurant. Colma had so many graveyards, a final destination for residents of the surrounding cities that dared to die in a place that didn't have enough space, and so had to be trucked out to Colma in batches after a mock-burial in their home town.

Max rustled in his bag of pencils and I broke off from the morbidly peaceful scene. "So what must I do?" I asked, giving up trying to find a pose that would make me look vaguely attractive.