Blonde Ivory

Chapter Thirteen: Shiloh Levitsky

Shiloh Levitsky (Lead Singer of Blonde Ivory)

The camera snaps with an obnoxious click and I know that within a couple minutes it will begin to annoy. The photographer, Paul, stands back with his chin in his hand. He looks unsatisfied with his slanted eyes narrowed and his lips clenched togetherness.

"Shiloh, can you maybe... try a different pose, please?" He finally speaks up, "Right now you're giving me tense, lost puppy. I need the boss bitch who can turn men into stone with one glance." I stare longingly at the bench where Macha is relaxing with a two-liter bottle of water. She finished her photo shoot what feels like hours ago, but really it's been around fifteen minutes.

"Is that a yes? A no?" Paul pipes in and I nod. I try giving the camera an even more "I am dead inside; please help" or an "I have the plug. Come sniff crack with me" look that nearly every artist has on their album, but that is kind of difficult considering I already looked extremely deadpan.

"That's better, sweet stuff. Make love to this camera. Show your fans who Shiloh Levitsky is." He says my name in a seductive tone that I do not even register it as my name at first. My first thought is: 'Paul, who is Shiloh Levitsky?' But then I realize. Me. I am Shiloh Levitsky. Only I am not really. Shiloh Levitsky and Shiloh Levitsky are two very different people.

I move the slit of tool and cloth off my legs, flex my muscles by standing on my right tippy-toes, and lean my hands along my thigh. I stare into the camera with the most intense glare that I can manage. When I hear the click, I try a different pose by putting my left arm behind me and just leaning my right arm on my thigh. I bite my lip slightly, scavenging within my soul and deepest understandings to decide what looks are or could be seductive.

"Purr-fect." I can barely make out Paul's facial expression behind the camera, but I can sense a smirk. I lean my head back a little and close my eyes.

A loud clap snaps me out of my pose. My eyes meet Taelyn's behind the camera. He is wearing a wide smile, fake, of course, and has decided that right now is the perfect time to give me a round of applause. I raise an eyebrow and another click echoes.

Paul shoots me a thumbs up, signaling that it is now Kasey's turn. I nod and walk towards my boyfriend. He wraps his arm around my waist once I make it to his side.

"You look beautiful." He says through a clenched jaw smile.

I nod and stare at him in his plain blue button up shirt that, despite popular belief, has so few buttons that are actually buttoned that it is practically pointless that he wears it. Along with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jean pockets untucked, and his tousled hair hidden in a beanie- I would say that I am the one who looks beautiful. Taelyn looks attractive in an unconventional way.

Of course, I was put into this prom looking dress. I would not have chosen it for myself. Not for a promotional photoshoot anyway.

"You look beautiful too." I smile. He scratches the back of his neck and laughs for once a genuine, awkward laugh.

"Thanks... Well," he looks around the studio before he focuses on me again, "Mark wanted me to tell you that there's a reporter from Sweet Taffy magazine in the dressing room. Apparently, she wants to interview you guys for a two-page entry." I raise an eyebrow. My breath hitches in my throat and I nearly cough out obscenities.

"About what?" I cough. Taelyn seems less interested in this, in fact, with a shrug and an expressionless face, he seems indifferent to it.

"Probably on which socks you decided to put on this morning, Shiloh." He rolls his eyes. I cross my arms to my chest and stare at him with a narrowed eyes. He sighs, "Obviously about the album." I nod and glance at Macha who has managed to nearly gulp the whole water bottle down.