Contumacious

Parte 19

Today was the first day of the 30 day journey.

I parked my car outside the place I was at about a week ago. around 3, I was getting out of my car and making my way in.

The set was as big as it was, except this time a lot of more people filled it, in every corner someone was there doing something keeping them occupied.

On one corner was the makeup room, which happened to have its door open giving me a view of someone setting their various brushes and pallets. While another was turning on the light of the giant mirror across the spinning chair.

Another corner was the fitting room, a female was there going through all the clothes that were hung on a single stand, nope, two of those. She also had a pen behind her ear, and her sleeves pulled up. Paying all of her attention on the clothes hung before her eyes and taking occasional measurements with the paper scale around her neck, and the notebook lying nearby.

Exactly in the middle of the room, was the large green screen that was still being set by three people, two opposite to each other, and the third yelling instructions.

A guy dressed in all black was a few feet away from them looking through a lens and adjusting its position, changing the spotlight to avoid casting shadows.

The scenery was all too familiar. The Director was sitting on one of the five safari chairs that were a few metres away from the camera on the right, whispering something to the woman in Platinum long hair. Probably his assistant?

Along with everyone doing something, there was still some people who we just scattered around. Some walking, some just watching... They definitely had some role, which remained unknown.

The Director spotted me near the entrance and smiled, getting up. I smiled back with a small, less happy one to his and made my way towards him and the platinum haired. Who was in a short, deadly tight, black, leather skirt. Didn't people like wear sweatpants here?

"Mr. Nathan! Pleasure meeting you," he shook my hand, "I'm Marc, the director, and thats Emily, my manager/assistant/beloved wife," he introduced smiling to me then wrapping his arms around the now standing Emily.

Another thing I had noticed was his accent. That accent, I've lived growing up hearing, was recognisable among hundreds others.

Emily shook my hand, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Nathan" she smiled briefly, however unlike her husband, she had no signs of any specific accent. Not Spanish at least. It was classic, sharp American.

"Please call me, Nate." I looked at both of them with a slight smile. They looked nice together.

"Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew," he walked next to my showing me around. He seemed like a nice, happy guy. Not once through my career has a director introduced me to the rest of the crew. We sort of just, get along, wanting to get the job done and leave.

A lot of names later that I was sure to forget, but caught some, I met the cameraman, make-up artist, and the dresser. Every one was nice and something told this was going to go smoothly. Not that things don't usually go smoothly, it's that there is always this tension between the crew that could be cut with a knife. Like they've got better places to be, better things to do, and I'm sure they do. Yet here they are. However, this time everyone was actually smiling genuinely. 

I met with the dressing lady, where she showed me the outfits I get to choose from, and the boxers I preferred. So the sizes could be adjusted if needed.

The first theme was casual wear, two outfits were there. I tried on three different sizes until I got to the perfect one. It didn't need any adjustments, it was perfect around the shoulder hugging the muscles on my arms nicely, and giving a satisfying shape to my torso, nothing was too bad photoshop couldn't fix.

It was a basic long sleeved, sky blue shirt, matched with causal, white shorts. I was sort of disappointed in the outfit. It hid all of my upper body and the shorts were almost mid thigh. It would've been safe to have a meal yesterday. You see, when a shoot is less than 24 hours away nothing is allowed to enter my stomach. Water is okay, but only for the first 12 hours, the 12 before the shoot, not even water is acceptable.

I got out of the small stall and showed the dresser the final look, "OH MY GOD!" she yelled, was something torn? Were the clothes stained? Was there a bug on me? was someone dead?

"WHAT'S WRONG!" I yelled back sarcastically, she just put her hands on her hips, a bit above the pocket of her sweatpants and rocked to the side.

She smiled evilly and said, "you're lucky that's not a catwalk, or else, well I cant really tell you what would happen." She flashed me a wink, and went behind me to make sure everything fit nicely.

I was confused as I furrowed my brows, looking at her, "thanks..."

"Sarah, its Sarah." She said now that she was back in front of me, she grinned widely and started pushing me out of the fitting room, "pleasure working with you Nate, but you're now Phil's problem," she smiled and shut the door behind me. Were all the people here that comfortable? It did make me smile though.

I only knew Phil was the makeup artist because thats what was supposed to be done next. Makeup.

I made my way to the make up room that had music blasting that could be heard all the way from outside.

Phil. What a nice fella. Came from the UK to pursue his dream as a well known Make-up artist, and well here he is. On the scenery of Burburry's upcoming spring collection.

We talked for a while until everything was as perfect as it can get and a couple of hundred photos were taken.

Same routine two times, with different outfits and the cameraman decided he took what he needed to work with.