𝙊 𝙉 𝙇 𝙔

1.5

I hope you've got your plates ready, cause it's time for a meal :)

~~~

It all felt too good to be true, from the fancy car and experienced driver that brought me here, to the professional makeup and dress team that were now tending to my every whim. Hell, even the initial phone call I made to Nigel where he affirmed everything in the email and we scheduled a date and time seemed like a dream. From where I sat. there seemed to be one person for every task I could possibly think of. One girl applying a topcoat to my nail, another taming my hair so it looked its best, and there was even someone who'd delivered some heating slippers to me earlier.

I felt like a princess, and wondered if this was how every model got treated, though I knew that was doubtful. I also had one person that was keeping me updated on time, telling me that there were 20 more minutes until the shoot was scheduled to start, and that the photographer would be here to meet me soon. Contrary to the lazy photographer, I met Nigel almost as soon as I walked through the door, and to my surprise, he was just as polite and helpful as he was over the phone. He was quite the escort, showing me to my temporary dress room, introducing me to the makeup artists and costume specialists, before excusing himself and saying he had business to tend to and would be back at the end of the shoot. Of course, I didn't mind, considering how he was the head of relations, and must have lots on his plate.

All of the aforementioned varieties of assistants were in and out of my room at all times. There were even some people bringing me different shoes to try on, and a makeup artist adjusting the undertones of my face to match the trim of my clothing. Whoever it was, there was always someone at my side, which helped to both calm and heavily increase my nerves. Just as we were closing in on 15 minutes before 'showtime' a fairly plain dressed lady, adorned with a headset, stepped foot halfway through the door.

"Miss Y/N!" I cringed at the formal name. "This is your photographer, Mister Keigo Takami. You may know him by his professional name, Hawks."

My head snapped, at the sound, making the girl sitting to the left at my chair, who was applying some sort of power to my face, harshly miss her intended area. Sure enough, the woman opened the door, making way for the shaggy blond to strut into the room, one hand in his pocket, the other going to lift his tacky sunglasses off of his golden eyes.

He smirked at me, though he didn't bother to approach me. "Nice to meet you, miss Y/N."

This dick...

I had to keep my mouth from swinging open, desperate to mask my surprise from everyone else in the room. Instead, I settled for unnecessary rapid blinking, hoping and praying the cocky man in front of me would simply disappear. But, much to my demise, he didn't, instead smugly leaning against the wall, gluing his eyes to me. I scoffed, turning forward to allow the poor artist to fix her mistake, and also to allow myself to wipe away the layer of surprise clouding my thoughts. Now that i think of it, there was one rather large question that I somehow neglected to ask Nigel about- who showed them photos of me. How could I be so stupid? Of course this was all too good to be true, it was all happening just because this douchebag was the one to organize it.

"So, is she done getting ready? I'll be glad to show her to the set." The dick offered, shining his fake smile towards all of the workers, no doubt making them swoon.

Strews of 'yes' and 'one last thing!' were heard, before finally, I was forced to leave my comfy chair, and stand by the side of the one man I would give the world to not have to see. Hawks held the door open for me, though I was sure it was just a show for all of the newfound fangirls he'd just made. As soon as the door had shut, and he began to lead me down the hallway, I spoke up.