Golden Hour

1: Bourbon & Bellbottoms

The day that I met you, I started dreaming .
(Kingston, Faye Webster)

JUNE 23, 2019
ALICE

Our van rocks to a stop against the thick, gravel road we've been riding along. It seems a relief, at first, but then I glance out the tinted window to see exactly where we're being let off. All around us are fields — for as far as the eye can see — grass, grass, and more grass. Dotting the area are the thick, black bodies of cows, standing still as statues. Maybe they are statues --  like the charging bull that sits at the foot of Wall Street, I think. There's literally nothing else. No buildings, no trees, not even a cloud in the sky. Something moves in the distance, faster than I expect to see. I furiously try and follow the movement, craning my neck to see past the limits of my stupid little window. It was a horse, I think. Topped by a human.

We're not in SOHO anymore.

"Alright, ladies, welcome t' Whitlock Ranch," our bus driver announces, the rattle of the machine's engine silenced with a turn of his keys.

I glance at our photographer — the one man in a group full of women — and I shoot him a sympathetic smile. He offers the same in return and I can see — I know clear as day — that he's not even aware he's been misgendered. James is preoccupied with our surroundings, face twisted with uncertainty. I know, I want to say, I know. This level of middle-of-nowhere is not what we were expecting. I can't fake enthusiasm with James, but for the girls I know I'll have to.

I suck in a breath, the hot, dry air uncomfortable in my lungs. I try again, but my chest never fills. Texas is already getting the better of me, and I haven't even stepped off the van. Instead of letting myself fall deeper into my anxiety, I stand tall. I smile. I look over my group of six perfectly chosen models and mentally prepare to play mother for the next week.

"Okay," I say, moving out from my seat at the front of the van. I wiggle my way into the aisle, keeping that too big smile on my face all the while. I'm sure they can all see right through me.

"So, here we are!" I say, echoing the driver's point from only a minute before. "I know we're all excited to be out of the city," I lie, "but we're here to work. To be respectful. To get these looks shot and get back to New York before too much country rubs off on us," I joke. Mostly. Laughter trickles through the van. I lift my face into that smile again, adding my own chuckle for good measure.

Behind me, the bus driver clears his throat, indicating not-so-subtly that he needs me to move it along. My hand flies to the top of my head in a nervous, desperate attempt to fix the mess that was once a ponytail. I run through my practiced speech as fast as I can. "So, uh, it'll be two to a room in the cabins, and James — you've got a room to yourself. Days start at eight am sharp. No wiggle room, no sleeping in, no vacationing." For good measure, I stare the girls down and add, "no cowboys. Got it? We've got a lot to do." I actually manage to sound authoritative. I raise a stern eyebrow for good measure, watching as seven heads nod back at me in return.

Then my face explodes into the first genuine smile I've had in days. This is it. Finally. After years of endless, back-breaking work, I'm here. I'm shooting my own damn line. Excitement courses through me. Everything inch of my body is alive, aware, ready to get outside despite our extremely rural locale. My excitement pushes past my lips, coming out as an enthusiastic, "Okay then — let's get going!"

I'm off the van before anyone else.

One foot on the ground, and my newly found excitement dwindles. My white sneakers — brand spankin' new — are already turning beige. The ground around us is no longer made of pebbles, but sand? Dirt? Beige. Just beige. Each gust of wind stirs the beige up around me. It sits on leggings, my skin, my hair. I feel dirty before having even lifted a finger. Calm, Alice. Calm. It's just dirt. If you can't handle that, it's going to be a very long week. I force my eyes away from the ground and up, to take in the sprawling estate I'd missed from inside the van.