One-shots [𝓈𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓎]

𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 2 [part 1]

A young woman is craving to be a model for anything, literally a show or some work for a small project.

Therefore, she makes an alias, thought that might be a reason for anyone to not find her interesting enough to get her a project. So, she changes her name to Coral. Short for Coraline.

Umm, a gem name is still cool.

Sooner she gets a mail, information about an advertisement for.. body wash.

Specified, peach flavour.

Hmm. Interesting...

Well, it's something than nothing.

________

Days pass by and the day comes.

She reaches to a quiet yet nature neighborhood with the direction of the given address in the mail. A concrete building is situated in front of her, quite far from the other houses or maximum-three-story buildings.

She combs her hair back, jutting her chin up slightly as to gain some confidence, walking towards the one concrete step of the studio or rather a farmhouse. She knocks on the wooden door.

"Coming!" A voice shouts from somewhere in the house.

She looks around the soothing landscape while waiting for the door to be opened by someone. What bothers her is how the place is so remote, kind of far —nah, too far actually— from the city.

Is this a scam..?

Before she thinks more about that red alarm ringing in her head, the door opens, a man pops out from behind the door to reveal himself.

"Coral, right?" He asks, his smile gleaming and can blind any school girl, for sure.

"Yeah." She nods. "Am I... early?" She asks, pointing around the calm atmosphere around them.

"No. No, you're on time." A playful smile tugs behind his innocent face as he steps back for her to get in the house.

She takes notes of the interior of the place, nothing much for the furniture. Only a fluffy pillow-filled couch, facing the 55 inches TV. The house is a full of maze with many rooms and hallways. A perfect labyrinth for the first time visitors.

The man leads through the hallways and downstairs? It doesn't look anything like a basement at all.

A corner by the doorway is organized with equipments of cameras, lights and so on.

"Come." He guides her towards the curtains, draping to the floor from the ceiling. He split open the curtains to one of the cubicle sets. There she sees two more men, checking on the camera and lighting settings.

They have introduced themselves to one another. The director, who is slightly less muscular among them, is Rish. He is going to record as well with the help of two gaffers.

One (who the sub-gaffer) with dirty brunette hair and has smooth baby-like face, the one who let her in, yet he looks like a pretty man who is too muscular for his face. He says that his name is Chase.

The other gaffer is Mark. He has midnight dark hair and fresh stubble on his face. The big on among them. And, dear lord.. the veins from his forearms to the back of his hands are unintentionally popping for women to wonder about other places to be this veiny.

Her eyes dart over the set. Her gaze stops at the bathtub.

Filled with peachy transparent water.

"Hey?" Mark calls out. "So.." He awkwardly chuckles, making his raspy voice send chills down her spin like countless feathers tickling her senses. "We agreed to... You know.." He clumsily gestures over her body.