Y/n Jolie was just a normal girl who grew up in a toxic household, after one incident she had to move in with her Aunt Sofia.
Soon after she got fame as she applied for modeling at a young age, as she grows up she realizes that not everything is as...
I drove across the city to the location Jimmy mentioned for the photoshoot. My heart pounded the whole way there.
I had no idea what to expect, only that he sounded urgent over the phone. As soon as I stepped inside the studio, Jimmy practically sprinted toward me, his phone still in his hand.
"There she is!" he beamed, grabbing my wrist gently and leading me down the hallway. "Y/N, I need you to give it your all today. This shoot is for Playboy's next big feature. If we pull this off, you won't just be a name you'll be a star."
I blinked, unsure if I should feel flattered or nervous. "Okay... I'll try," I said as I sat down in the makeup chair, smoothing my hands down my thighs.
Jimmy nodded rapidly, full of excitement. "Your outfit is on the way, just sit tight. They'll bring it in any second." With that, he rushed out, shutting the door behind him.
Moments later, a petite woman in all black walked in carrying a hanger draped in sheer fabric. "Hello, Miss Y/N," she said in a soft, polite voice. "This is what you'll be wearing today. Once you're dressed, just walk out and head to your left, there'll be a stylist waiting."
She handed me the outfit and closed the door without another word.
I stood there, staring at it.
It was tiny. Something that barely counted as clothing. My stomach dropped as I slowly held it up against myself in the mirror.
My hair was already styled in high pigtails, tied off with soft white ribbons. I looked like a doll. A doll that didn't even look old enough to vote yet.
I sat down slowly, and frowned.
I'm not even eighteen yet. Sure, I knew what Playboy was. I knew the image it carried but this? This was something else.
Uncomfortable didn't even begin to cover it.
The outfit
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☆
I stepped out of the dressing room, still tugging nervously at the edge of the sheer fabric.
My heels clicked against the floor as I walked over to Jimmy. His eyes lit up the moment he saw me.
"Wow, Y/N—you look great," he said with a wide grin. But then his tongue flicked out to lick his lips and something about it made my skin crawl. "Now just stand right over there for me."
I swallowed my discomfort and walked to the set, where lights were blaring and the camera was already clicking.
I struck the pose I had practiced a hundred times in the mirror hand on my hip, arched back, chin tilted just enough to catch the light.
