the age of youth // t.c.

quatre

.timothèe.

~.~.~

I slide the comb through my hair one last time before setting it on the vanity and leaving the dressing room. My sleeves are rolled up just below my elbows, and I pretend to adjust them to keep my hands busy. This shoot is really important for me, and I need to do my best.

"Timothèe?" I hear from behind me. I turn around and smile at the older woman carrying a clipboard.

"That's me!"

"Are you dressed and ready to go?" she asks, not looking up from her papers.

"Yeah-Yes, m'am," I stutter, clearing my throat. She marks something on the clipboard before walking away. I raise my brows and slowly turn on my heel. I walk over to where a crew is setting up ring lights and the backdrop, and I catch my manager waving at me from across the room. I duck around the crowded room and meet up with George, my manager.

"You ready?" he asks, clapping a hand on my back and smiling. I nod and shake out my body a little. "Hey, it's just a photoshoot. Looking hot isn't a problem for you."

I laugh and thank George, and just then the final call is announced and I walk over to the camera. I don't see a photographer, and look around but nobody approaches.

"Where is the photographer?!" the editor-in-chief of GQ, Jeeyoung Kang, cries out, throwing his hands up angrily. "I apologize, Mr. Chalamet," he says, tilting his head towards me so only I can hear.

"It's okay! I'm not busy." I mentally bash my head against a wall for saying something that stupid, especially to someone so highly ranked. He doesn't seem to hear me, though, and just as he opens his mouth to yell again, a girl appears around the corner.

"I'm here! I'm so sorry, my flight-"

"No excuses! Get to the camera now or I will personally feed your contract to a paper shredder!" Jeeyoung screams. The girl scurries over to where I'm standing and sets herself up behind the camera. I take my place in front of it. The girl immediately starts taking pictures, not even bothering to take her jacket off or set her bag down.

"Turn to the side...a little more to the left...good." She snaps a picture, and the more I look at her, I can't help but feel like I recognize her. "Look towards the lens, please," she barks, pointing to the front of the camera.

"Sorry," I murmur, and she tells me to face forward. The girl takes a few more pictures then asks me to turn to the side and look over my shoulder.

"Keep your expression serious, but don't drop your smile so much. Right there is good." She takes a few more shots before an outfit change is called, catching us both off guard. The girl slowly rises from behind the camera, looking shocked. "But I still had a few more shots to take!"

"You arrived late, so you don't get what you want!" the Jeeyoung scolds, then storms off in the crowd of people. Photographer Girl sighs then adjusts her camera, before glancing up at me. I wave and she just sniffs, then turns and walks away.

~.~.~

I stand against the brick wall of the studio, watching as everything gets set up again for the last set of photos. The coat I'm wearing is lined with faux fur, so the thickness of the fur and the heat of the cramped room is not a good combination. I tug at my collar, trying to cool myself off a little. Photographer Girl walks by, and suddenly I remember where I had seen her last. Out of impulse, I grab her arm. She yelps as she's dragged back, and I immediately apologize and let her go.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! That was way more aggressive than necessary," I say, and she glares at me.

"Yeah, you could say that again," she spits.

"That was way more aggressive-"

"I didn't mean that literally! God, are all celebrities this dense?"

I feign being offended, laying my hand on my chest. "Well!" I cry, but can't help smiling. She squints at me before quickly walking away. "Wait!" I call out, accidentally stepping on the back to her shoe. I reach forward and grab her arm, again, so she doesn't fall. She rips her arm out of my grip, and I hold my hands up in surrender. "Ah, again, I'm sorry!"

"What is it with you and touching?!" she says, her eyes wide with anger.

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't want you to fall!"

"Next time, just let me," she snarls.

"Wait, don't go again." She crosses her arms and actually listens this time. "Do you remember me? I was the guy with my fly down the entire photoshoot," I chuckle, my cheeks burning a little. She purses her lips in thought.

"I think so, I don't know," she finally answers, almost appearing shy, which is a new look for her. "I gotta go change the lens." She points her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the camera.

"Can I ask you something before you leave?" I quickly ask. She rolls her eyes, before asking,

"What is it?"

"What's your name?"

She studies my face for a minute, like she's considering if she should tell me or not.

"Delilah."