When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The bright sunlight felt jarring, coming out of the subway.
Taking a moment to orient herself, Isabelle turned west and walked in a straight line until reaching unit 1228.
Shielding her eyes from the blaring sunlight, she knew she was already sweating. Partly from the humidity, and partly from the anticipation.
She rang the buzzer and was swiftly addressed by the assistant. Milo's assistant.
"Isabelle," the high voice on the other end of the intercom breathed, "come up."
The buzzer rand and Isabelle slowly made her way up, feeling a little bit surreal. A little bit out of body.
The concierge greeted her with a delicate nod, and she came back to herself, getting into the elevator and pressing the Penthouse floor. Quietly laughing to herself at how funny this whole situation seemed to her.
When the elevator doors swung open, she was expecting a whole team. Hairstylists, makeup artists, but it was just the assistant.
"I'm Tracy," the assistant handed her delicate arm for a quick squeeze of a handshake.
The woman looked familiar to Isabelle, but hits was the first time she was getting an introduction. She was skinny and clearly into the fashion world, but one had a sense that she took this job because she could never quite get into the modelling world.
"Hi Tracy," Isabelle replied trying to look perky and ready for the job, "where is everyone?"
"Oh, its just us. Milo wanted to do some test shoots. We have a few outfits we want to try but no need for the whole shebang!" Tracy used her arms to talk and was a very animated individual.
"Oh, ok..." Isabelle looked around and dropped her book bag on the couch, sitting across from Tracy.
"Milo is on his way, he's just...running late." Tracy said absentmindedly, furiously swiping things on her cell phone.
Isabelle looked around and was slightly taken aback by the minimalism of the place. Only truly rich people could adored so little things, she thought to herself.
Giving out a little sigh, Isabelle was glad he was running late, so she had time to prepare. Physically...emotionally.
She excused herself to the bathroom and went in to do a power pose, a breathing exercise, and to touch up her makeup - already fading from the subway ride from Brooklyn.
When she came out, Milo still wasn't there. So she plopped back on the couch and put in her headphones, her own meditation prior to any shoot or job, necessary for her to rebalance and recenter herself.
So that she didn't even notice when a shadow came over the glass panels surrounding the open spaced penthouse living room.
She looked up and jumped when she saw Milo standing there, hovering over her like an apparition.
Yanking the headphones out of her ears, she got up to stand up.
"Surprised to see me?" Milo asked her with that bemused look gaze.
"Yes. I mean no. I mean I was just in my own world, sorry." Isabelle was putting all of her stuff back in the bag. She looked back up at him with a new self assured smile. "So, ready?"
Milo nodded and led her into the next room, where the lights and 2 cameras where already set up in front of a roll of shooting paper.
