As if they had a conscience of their own, her feet moved on the hard concrete that separated her from the entrance of the building. She wanted to get this over with as soon as she could. Even if not willingly, it seemed like her body knew that for her.
When she reached the basement, she noticed that, even if only a day had went by, the place had been through a transformation that almost made it hard to recognize it. But that was the beauty of fashion shoots, creating fleeting worlds that gave the impression of being immortal.
She made it to the fitting room where she was met with the same team she worked with the day before. She quickly said hi before she took her place in front of a retro illuminated mirror that made her skin look paler than it had ever looked in real life and let them work their magic on her. The sound of hairdryers and the heat emanating from the various machines she would soon have straightening her hair, felt familiar enough for her eyes to close on their own.
That's when she picked up a voice near her, a feminine and high pitched one she could not collocate with specificity. She opened her eyes slightly but the only thing she could see were the chunky fingers of her make up artist who, as soon as she moved, was quick to remind her to be still so that she could do her job properly. French accent included.
So, Lisa gave up on the idea of seeing wherever that voice was coming from, figuring that, if it belonged to someone she was about to work with, she would soon find out.
She was right, as soon as they put her in the first outfit, she peacocked her way to the location of the shoot where awaited her, along with the production crew, Jean, a mysterious blonde and Jennie.
She wanted to laugh at the height difference between Jennie and the model who was standing next to her, looking just a tad freightened by the woman's instructions. Obviously, she retained herself from doing so and quickly placed herself right between the blonde and Jean who started gushing about how sexy she looked. Lisa had always been one to shy away from compliments, but, working in the fashion industry, she had been quick to learn how to accept them politely, but not too much that it could come across as fake modesty. The fact that she was a model also meant that when people told her she looked divine, perfect or sensual, a lot of times they were referring to the clothes she wore and not to herself.
In that case specifically, she could not know with absolute certainty. She was sure she wasn't exactly Jean's type, so she didn't even consider the option of him trying to lusingate her, but that did not mean that he couldn't appreciate her beauty. So, she gladly accepted the compliment and went on giggling with him like two bestfriends before a cough interrupted them.
Jennie had, as usual of her, not given Lisa's a mere glance until that exact moment. At the same time, Lisa could not say she had been looking for her eyes, her ego still too hurt from the night before.
Instead of putting up a fight, like her usual stubborn self would probably do, she followed Jennie's instructions gracefully and without complaining. With Jean's continuous compliments, she was able to endure the most awkward and tension filled moments that were the explaining of the process and of the designer's concept.
But, even if she had surrendered her true self in favor of a more professional one, that did not mean that she would speak a single word directly to the black haired woman. With nor her eyes or her mouth to let Jennie know that she was listening to her, she could only count on her actions. She could feel Jennie's impatience growing by the minute, but it never bothered her enough to actually give in into her game of power.
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Midnights In Paris | Jenlisa
FanfictionOne ring. Why am I calling her ? Two rings. Of course she's not gonna answer. It's three in the morning. Three rings. What am I doing? I should han- "Allô?" It's three a.m., after a night of clubbing, Lisa is stumbling down the streets of Paris...