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"Now I do what I want, now I do what I want"
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April 2020 NYC, New York
Michael studied the garment that clung to the model, well, Instagram model's exaggerated features. He tried to envision something from her, anything, but all he could think was how her surgeon had done her very wrong.
"Your booty look like a wet diaper," he remarked nonchalantly.
"Maybe it's just your angle," the model explained, throwing her blonde hair over her ivory skin, pouting her pink, silicone filled lips.
Considering her explanation, Michael had her turn every which way to Sunday. He moved around her. He moved the lights. And he shook his hands.
"Nope, it's you, Clara," he shrugged, clapping thunderously to get his assistant's attention.
"Claudia," she mumbled.
"No, it's Clara. You look like a Clara, so that's what imma call you, but ion even expect you to understand my superior mindset."
Deeply confused and taken aback by his brash arrogance, the model stank faced him before taking the slip of garment off before him as she slid into her Pretty Little Thing garb instead. Dion, Michael's assistant, escorted her out, calling in the next girl before Michael stopped him.
"You sure?," Dion questioned. "I got like, 8 or 9 other girls out there. You don't even wanna take a look? A lil peekaboo?"
"I've seen it all, Dion," Michael declared dramatically, throwing his arms into the air as he kicked some clothing up from the ground. As they flew and landed, they emitted a cloud of dust, capturing Michael's attention for a second.
He pointed to the thin cloud, looking to Dion, who was sporting an irate expression at the tantrum he knew would ensue any minte now.
"You see this shit, D? It's dead skin cells and pollen and stone dusty thingy and it's infinitely more interesting than the snowbunnies you keep bringin' in."
Dion kissed his teeth before looking Michael up and down.
"Snowbunnies? Goofy, you asked for white IG models, talkin' bout some you tryna do some modern day Michael-man-jillow shit."
Michael shook his head manically, covering his ears. "I know, I know what I said but why would you listen to me, though?"
Letting out the deepest of sighs and rolling his LashedLikeFi lashes, Dion told the IG vixens in the next room to go home, getting a wave of protest and complaints about how they'd sat there for 5 hours without so much as a warning.
