The L.A Dream

CHAPTER 1

           

"Okay now move your arm slightly to the left... Excellent, now can you do a little spin for me doll? Brilliant."

The photographer's hoarse, enthusiastic voice rang through my ears as I followed his instructions mindlessly, putting on a sickly sweet and somewhat mischievous smile for the camera.

Beads of sweat lined my forehead as I quickly raised my hand to wipe them off. What place didn't have air conditioning in the middle of July? The humidity in the room coupled with the red lace corset tight enough to squeeze the life out of me, was giving me the urge to puke.

Modelling has always been depicted as something fun and glamourous in movies but no one tells you what actually goes on behind the scenes.

The entire week living off kale juice and oatmeal prior to the shoot, hours of sitting in a chair letting strangers pull on your hair and work on your face, being blinded by standing in front of insanely bright lights and constantly receiving pervy looks from greasy old men working in that area.

I tried keeping my eyes focused on the camera but from my peripheral view, I spotted a bunch of over enthusiastic interns sharing a large plate full of pizza rolls. At that exact moment, its mouthwatering aroma wafted right over to me.

Pizza rolls fresh out of the oven were my one and only weakness.

My stomach growled loudly in response as my cheeks and ears tinged the colour of my outfit. Unfazed by the rude sound my stomach just made, the photographer kept barking on his instructions as I shot him an embarrassed smile and continued posing.

I angled myself on the black velvet sofa, propping myself up on my elbow and smoothed out the flimsy material of the negligee over my thighs. I twirled a tendril of my hair and flashed a wide smirk, cocking my head slightly to the right. I like to call it my signature 'heartbreaker' pose.

Shortly afterwards, the photographer signaled a short break and walked towards the head producer to review all the shots. One of the interns scurried towards me with a water bottle. I snatched it from him with a scowl, still harbouring a petty grudge over them being able to eat pizza rolls while I suffered. Immediately feeling bad about my immaturity, I gave him a grateful smile and returned to my position.

The makeup artist hurried over and touched up my makeup, reapplying the red lipstick and putting on foundation from where it had worn off, finishing it off with a spritz of setting spray.

"We haven't got any more time to waste. Let's wrap this up or we'll be up here till sunrise," one of the producers yelled from his chair. I wracked my brain for his name. Carl? Chris? Or was it Charlie?

With that, everyone got back into their respective places and the shoot resumed. I kept on striking different poses, shouts of approval from the cameraman helping me to calm down my nerves. I somehow got through the next two hours without letting the exhaustion show on my face.

For a moment, I regretted doing this photoshoot. It was by far the longest and most tiring one I've ever done. It had been a solid eight hours since I stepped foot into the studio and it was nearing four am. Not to mention, I was starved.

This was the first time I'd done a lingerie photoshoot and perhaps the worst part of it all were the several people staring at me under the bright lights, exposed and vulnerable. It was the most unnerving experience of my life, to say in the least.

All my previous gigs were either for casual wear or for some small TV advertisements I managed to grab.

I liked to think it was all temporary, just a pit stop till I reached my destination. Ever since the day I watched my first movie, being a 'world famous', 'loved by all her peers' actress had been my dream.

Whenever someone asked my friends and I in kindergarten what we wanted to be when we grew up, we all shouted "Actresses!" in unison with naïve smiles on our faces. The only difference between me and them was that, to this day, my answer never changed.

The shoot ended with a round of applause, relief and tiredness clear on everyone's faces.

On the way to the dressing room, I caught Robby's eye as he waved me over, shooting me a smile.

Robby was the executive producer of the shoot and a one of my friends from high school who I'd manage to keep in touch with. Two days ago, he called me up to have me replace one of this models who pulled out last minute due to some family emergency. Along with a hefty cheque, he promised to help me score an agent with some contact he had in Hollywood.

There was no way I was going to deny an offer like that.

He pulled me into a tight embrace as soon as I jogged over to him, chuckling at his usual habit of being overly affectionate.

"You were great out there! I honestly don't know how I would've pulled this off without you. Thank you Aria."

"It was my pleasure,' I replied, unsure if I should ask him about the agent he promised to call. "About that agent..." I trailed off, prompting him to speak.

"Oh yeah! Don't worry about that I'll ring him up first thing this morning. Also, my assistant will mail the cheque and the catalogue with your pictures to your address in about a week."

I thanked him, giving him another quick hug as I hurried over to the dressing room. His booming voice could be heard yelling at the assistants to move the props carefully as I rolled my eyes in amusement.

Standing in front of the mirror, I slowly removed my makeup, scrubbing hard at my lips to clean off the lipstick which was stubbornly refusing to leave. The bags underneath my eyes, courtesy of many sleepless nights, became more and more prominent as I wiped off the layers of foundation.

I quickly shed the torturous contraption of clothing, gladly leaving it outside the door and pulled on my own clothes, feeling much more at peace. I took off the heels and massaged my ankles for a bit – they were definitely going to hurt quite a lot over the next few days.

By the time I was out, quite a few people had already left. Waving goodbye to some of them, I walked out of the studio, settling into my car.

The Sun was rising from the horizon, casting a beautiful orange glow over the parking lot but I had more pressing issues at hand. My apartment was two hours away from this location and I had zero energy left in me to drive that long distance.

Sighing, I turned on my GPS to look for a local motel or B&B where I could crash in for the night. I'd worry about everything else later.