Photo Finish

The Photoshoot

     I hadn't slept a wink that night. So many things were going through my mind. I was nervous about the photoshoot, and the fact that my brother was getting more than I ever had bothered the hell out of me. I wasn't necessarily bad looking. Why couldn't I get a boyfriend, but my brother could have one beautiful, long-lasting relationship with benefits? It infuriated me to no end that I was alone and everyone I knew had someone to love.
     Maybe I was just overthinking things. I didn't need anyone, seeing as I was making a good living on my own. Plus, if I had a boyfriend I would just be tied down. It would be a burden to try and appeal to someone all the time. I already had to do that everyday with Precious; I didn't want to have two problems. Precious I could handle, but what if my boyfriend was just like her? I could barely handle one of her, but two? No thank you.
     Speaking of which, it was already nine o'clock. How I knew even though I was in the depths of my own thoughts? This woke me up quite well.
     "Wake up!"
     I felt a heavy object hit my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I opened my eyes, seeing a bag of--well what I guessed was clothing on top of me. Emelia was standing proudly to my left as I rolled it to the foot of the bed. My friend sighed and lifted me into a sitting position, and pointed to the duffle bag without saying a word.
     "What is it?" I asked, my voice tired and unmotivated.
     Em squawked a little and clapped about a million times before motioning again to the bag.
     "Open it!" She encouraged.
     With a scoff, I grabbed the green bag and unzipped the top. I closed it up instantly, shocked by its contents, and looked up at her. Her face made my suspicions rise, the objects inside the bag worrying me. I slowly opened up the bag again, pulling my legs into a crossed position, and peered inside.
     "You stole this, didn't you?"
     "Wha--I--how dare you think of me as such!"
     "Then you must've sold your body or something. No one could get this much money just by saying 'Hi, can I have your cash?' How did you do it?" I asked, resting my head in my hand as I stared up at the blushing woman. I hated her silence. It made me worry how the hell she got the money. "Emelia Lynn! How did you get this much money?"
     "Read the note if you're so damn curious!" Em snapped, her eyebrows furrowed and lips pouty.
     I exhaled, rummaging through the stash of green to the white sheet of paper that had slipped to the bottom. In neat letters it read "To Whom It May Concern," on the front. I opened it, and glanced along the curly sentences. 

My name is Lucas Medford. I have taken notice to your account and the breathtaking photos you have accumulated in your gallery. I have a business proposition for you. The contents in the bag are a mere incentive and not nearly as much as you will receive on a regular basis upon working for me. See you then.

     "Laurraine, if you meet him--" Em started wearily.
     "Why not? He sounds a little old-fashioned, but sophisticated. Maybe he's cute!"
     "Fine, but if you go see him, you are wearing the most masculine attire you own, " my roommate advised.
     "Okay. I have to get ready for Precious' photoshoot!" I hopped out of bed and threw on my best masculine fashion. I needed to look good, like DAMN YOU FINE kinda good. That, I turned out being. I walked out of the room and flipped my nonexistent hair and posed ridiculously.
     "Damn, boy, what's your name?!" My roommate suddenly shouted dramatically.
     Playing along, I went into my deepest voice and struck another "sexy" pose. "Me? My name is Precious' Fake Boyfriend! Date her so I don't have to!" I snorted and shook my head. "I never thought I would hear those words come from my own mouth."
     "Well it's only for one day. Now let me get you a little makeup to clean you up and then we'll style your hair. Maybe add a beanie too." Emelia said, dragging me to the bathroom to get me ready.
     It felt like hours later before she was finished with my look. We had decided on a white beanie to compliment my brighter attire. Precious wanted us to match, so I thought pastel would do the trick. As I looked in the mirror, I practiced my kissy faces and my cutesy faces. I sighed dreamily over myself.
     "If I didn't know you were a girl, I probably would've fallen for you by now," Em said, lifting my spirits.
     "This will definitely work. If I could get people jealous of her, then she'll have a date in no time! But then again, she's my main bank. Oh well, I'll visit that guy if I lose this job."
     "In the attire you have now?"
     "Well duh! I don't want strange men to know I'm female. If they're gay, I'll tell them I'm a girl. That's the only exception," I replied, getting something out of my teeth.
     "Good, so you know the drill. Also, are you still scamming her?"
     "By posting her photos on the fake account? Yeh, why?" I asked, turning to get out of the bathroom.
     "Because what if she finds out?"
     "That account is still labeled as an Instagram Photographer's account, but it just isn't in my name personally. It doesn't have a lot of views or followers. Scouts most likely won't check that one.  Precious is just too dumb to realize that."
     "But what if she does?"
     "She won't. If she doesn't get a date by tonight, then I just won't renew the contract. It ends regardless, even if I still wanted to work for her I would have to renew the contract. She'll be out of my hair and I'll delete that account. The contract also says no refunds for her because she sends me the modified pictures that she pays someone to do for her. She is happy with those awful photos, and she'll pay me for them. She doesn't want refunds, so the contract says she won't get them. That's how we worked it out."
     "Huh, I guess that makes sense. So you're safe?"
     "Basically. Now that I think about it, I'll keep the account up so that Precious won't get mad. That teen's so spoiled."
     I walked out of the bathroom to put on my neon blue high tops. I laced up the glistening white laces and grabbed my cute, kitty cat camera bag. Before I knew it, I was driving down the road to Precious' mansion. On the way, I couldn't help notice an old man in a crisp tux staring at my Chevy Impala. Chills went down my back as he bowed his head to me. I averted my eyes as I passed the light.
     Meow meow~
     Meow meow~
     "Yeah, Precious?" I answered the phone, pressing the button on my earpiece.
     "You're on your way, right?"
     "Yes."
     "And you look good?"
     "I guess so."
     "What did you wear?"
     "Pastel."
     "Good, this is why I hired you. Take your time because I'm not done with my look yet. The set is also being constructed right now. We could practice the shots before we shoot too. Also, I'm having a professional photographer come in for some of the shots as well."
     "Will I still get payed for those?"
     "Of course. You're doing this even though the contract says you don't have to. I wouldn't not pay you for this. I owe you!"
     Her cutesy voice made me cringe.
     "Thanks, Precious."
     "No problem. I'll see you when you get here."
     "Yep."
     She hung up and I removed my earpiece, setting it  safely in the passenger seat.
     Meow meow~
     Frustrated, I placed the earpiece back and answered.
     "Yes Precious,  I'm on my way."
     "Lu! Classes have been canceled! We have the day off!"
     "Peter? Oh, okay. Thanks!"
     "Is Precious hounding you again?"
     "When does she not?" I sniggered as I pulled up to Precious' house.
     "Bare with it. I have a surprise to give you for your troubles."
     "Really? Interesting. Anyway, I gotta go to work. See you tomorrow," I said, hanging up the phone and putting the Bluetooth in the center console.
     I shut off the engine and hopped out of the car. I sighed before ringing the doorbell. As always, Precious greeted me with a hug and a deafening screech. I shook my head with a forced smile as she pulled me to the set that had just been finished. It looked good accept for all of the stuffed animals on the bed that had been specially built in front of a freshly painted blue wall. I shivered, my upper lip perked with nausea.
     "Precious, I don't particularly mind pastel, but why so much pink?" I asked, my hand shaking as I pointed to the bed. "And why is there a bed?"
     "To be more comfortable, duh. Also, this is Peter. He's going to be the photographer taking the big couple photos. Peter, say hi."
     "PETER?!" I shouted, shocked that my friend had been sucked into her trap.
     "You know each other?" Precious asked suspiciously.
     "Hey, love. We do, actually. We're majoring in photography together," Peter replied, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
     "Oh. Well she's mine for today. Sorry," Precious said sassily as she took my arm and led me to the bed.
     I gulped. I wasn't used to being on camera. I was always the photographer, never the talent. Fortunately I took a couple drama classes in high school.
     "Get closer and look lovey-dovey. Smile, Laurraine. Maybe put an arm around her," Peter instructed.
     I did as he asked, gripping Precious lovingly and smiling. I did a few other things for the different shots: leaning my head on her shoulder, touching our foreheads together, holding hands. Then it was off to the second set.
     It was outside this time. A green screen had been set up so that we could change the background. We took pictures where I lifted her, hugged her, almost kissed her. Trust me, if I wasn't getting paid for this, I wouldn't have done it. It was absolutely horrid. I was so uncomfortable that I had to hang around Peter every time Precious got her makeup fixed. At least she looked better than usual. She was actually dressed her age, and her hair was crimped and down. She wasn't dreadfully painful to look at anymore, but it was still sickeningly pink.
     "Laurraine! It's time for couple selfies!" Precious yelled, beckoning me over to her.
     I walked over after grabbing my camera from my bag. We took several selfies with the two of us and then that was it. I was done with the shoot before I knew it. In the next hour, I was home posting the pictures and paid. Some of them I posted on my account, and the others to the fake one. In the first several minutes of posting I noticed an abnormality. There was a guy commenting on every one of them with Precious. Hate comments were rolling in on our couple photos. They were all geared towards me. I scoffed.
     "He has no idea what he's getting himself into."
     The next day was the same. Comments rolled in from the one guy for hours. Even through the shoots with Precious and three other small clients, which took around seven hours. Whoever this "Precious4Lifu" guy was, he really had it out for me. I was almost tempted to fire back. Of course that would end in the worst possible outcome, but I'd be able to vent.
     "No," I tapped my mouth. "I won't ruin this poor guy's vision of her. I don't want to scar him."
     "Who are you saving from the devil this time?"
     "Peter?" I asked as the male sat on the bench next to me, a steaming brew in his hands.
     "Hey, love." There was a pause as he sipped his joe. "So who are you saving from Precious' jaws? You've already told every other guy the truth. What's stopping you from this one?"
     "I'm not saving him from Precious, I'm letting him keep his fantasy of her."
     "And why's that?"
     "Because look at what he's written." I showed him my screen full of hate comments and read a few. "'This guy looks like an utter douche. Precious deserves better.' 'Why does he look like he doesn't want to be there? He's probs only there for her money.'"
     "Wow, he sounds like a genuine loon."
     "No, he just sounds like he truly loves her. Look at the others. He seems like he wants the best for her."
     "Or the best of her money."
     "Stop. I thought you believed in true love."
     "I do, but the words 'true love' coming from you sound quite amusing."
     "And why's that?" I asked, attempting to mimic his accent.
     "Because when did you start believing in love at all?"
     I looked off with a long exhale through the nose. I saw the dying grass and brown leaves that scuttled across it. The smell of pies and candy rode the wind like a public bus. All things that were peaceful tried to distract me from what I was just inquired. It was such a touchy subject. Well, not touchy per se, or sore for that matter, just sad.
     "I never did," I said, looking down at my camera. "Even though it was all around me, I never once thought that it was real. It always seems like a short delusion of pleasure until it crashes down on you like an anvil. Then what's left of you? I'll tell you what's left. You're now a forgotten cartoon character that is no longer able to perform."
     I felt a hand on the back of my neck, patting it slightly. I wiped the tears welling in my eyes and looked at Peter.
     "Can I have some of your coffee?"
     "Yeah, love."
     I took a long sip from the paper cup. French vanilla, my favorite flavor of coffee. That, and caramel. My two favorite flavors of coffee. I don't think I could love any other flavors of coffee other than those two. I mean they are just so--
     "And what if it is true love?"
     I gulped and gripped the cappuccino. "Then I get crushed by the anvil," I leaned on the male's shoulder, "and become a burnt out cartoon character."