The Selection (Is A Modelling Competition)✔️

Chapter 7: I Never Knew

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry this took so long. I was a little uninspired, but my friend thenerdwriter28 pushed me to write this, so I did. :)

"I never knew they made photographers that hot," whispered a girl whose pin -strangely enough - read Tuesday.

"I know, right?" Her friend agreed, running her eyes over Maxon Schreave.

We were working with the camera for the first time; it was only 11:15, five minutes into the Trial Photo Shoot, and I already wanted it to be over. The flash was blinding, the poses stiff and awkward. There were other photographers besides Maxon, a trio of equally famous cameramen and women.

Currently, the one working with me, named Emmon, was telling me that the dress some poor stylist had picked out was All the wrong colour, my dear. I'd rather see you in blue. The dress was coral. I agreed. He grabbed a random blue dress, shoved it at me, and directed me towards the fitting rooms.

On my way there, I bumped into Maxon. "Hello, my dear," He greeted me.

I gritted my teeth. About a half dozen people had addressed me that way today, and I'd heard him use that endearment on all the other girls. "I am not your dear, or anyone else's."

"My apologies, America." His gaze, I noticed, didn't stray to my pin. I felt oddly relieved.

I shook it off. Sure, there were thirty-four other girls here, but I was one of three redheads, and had met him before we were supposed to meet. "Apology accepted."

"How are you liking your time in front of the camera?" Maxon seemed to be genuinely thoughtful in asking me this. He seemed to be honest in a lot of things, open, which surprised me for some reason couldn't name.

"I'm envying you, really. I'd rather be behind it," I answered truthfully.

"Oh, but you look so nice in front of it," he countered, lifting a digital camera to his face. "Smile."

I laughed, raising an arm to my face. "Maxon, no!"

My laughter caught the attention of the girls near me.

I heard whispering. "Oh my gosh, what do you think that's about?"

"He, like, totally likes her!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" (Celeste) "Everyone knows that if there's a favourite, it's me."

I sighed. Barely a day here, and the attention was already getting to me.

Maxon excused himself while I got dressed in a blue knee-length dress. The skirt was silky, and the bodice embroidered with white flowers. I put on a pair of simple white sandals with ankle straps and (fortunately) low heels, then went back to my stylist.

"Much better," Emmon told me distractedly. "Now, I want you to stand over here, next to Celeste. She's wearing gold, and this is a beach theme, so the two of you can match."

I groaned inwardly. Celeste looked past me, like she didn't find me worthy of her presence. Her eyes were fixed on Maxon, who was walking around the room, working with other girls, making them laugh as he carefully adjusted their positions, their clothes, the lighting. He was good at this, I realized with a jolt. Not that I'd be able to tell if he was bad, but... He was good.

"America!" Celeste snapped. "America, stop mooning and move!"

I shot her a dirty look and did the pose that the photographer put me in, trying not to wince at the camera flash.

I had changed my mind. I regretted everything.