Gummy Bears (on hold)

i. The She-devils

    “Give me a coffee, Sam. Two sugars this time,” Peter said, rubbing his temples. I quickly went over to the table where refreshments were propped and made what he ordered. I handed him the coffee without saying a word, knowing that he wasn’t in a good mood. “Cooperate with me! Adam, think that you’re a survivor in a hidden island, but you’re still all fierce with your Armani. What you’re giving me now is a pitiful hobo with expensive underwear! We didn’t pay you big doe for this crap!”

    I pursed my lips. I slightly pitied Adam, the male model who was stretched out on a boulder in the middle of the sea. He was only wearing boxers, which were, according to Peter, “made of 100% Egyptian cotton and organic dye”. It was quite windy and hot too, so that wasn’t the luckiest of his days. Oh well, it was his decision to become a world class model anyways.

    Working with a company that goes on partnership with big fashion enterprises was never my first choice of a job. I grew up in a household composed of my mom and three sisters and occasionally, my grandmother. The reason I’m stating this is because growing up, I had to deal with their feminine paranoia of how the shade of lipstick didn’t match, or about how the dress made someone look two sizes bigger. Now that I have sort of parted ways with my family because of college, I had to deal with this: working in a fashion company and having nothing to do but watch semi-naked guys pose all summer long.

    The only reason I haven’t quit my job yet is because the pay was better than average and because of the occasional presence of female models that were just as bare as the male model right now. With the latter alone, it was a closed case.

    I was told in short notice about this big project that takes place in Sheathe Beach, a four-hour drive from where I live. And by short notice, I mean that Peter just barged in my bedroom at two in the morning and told me I had to pack my things in five minutes. Hence I forgot my laptop and everything else that was essential to keep me entertained.

    “Flex your arms a little, like you’re trying to seek help from a ship except you’re an idiot facing the wrong direction!” Peter shouted again. The male model did as told, and the photographer looked pleased and took faster shots to capture every angle.

    I realized that there was someone beside me while I was trying to think of why everyone around me reacted vigorously at the ridiculous sight of a man that was in mid-push up position and a raised hand. It was a woman in her forties wearing an inappropriate black ensemble which looked almost as expensive as the fillers she had on her face. She was wearing studded sunglasses and an effortless movie star pout that I bet was the result of Botox. “Marvellous.” She said. Her voice was husky and soft as she said this, and as if it was the call of God Himself, everyone turned their attention to her.

    “Madame Heinrich!” Peter said as he stood up and approached the woman that was approaching him as well. I caught a whiff of her scent, which was strong and incense-like. I scrunched my nose. The two ended up hugging (if you can even consider it that – they did the thing people did that was sort of a hug minus physical contact) each other really close to where I was sitting, and I had to look away so that my face wouldn’t touch Peter’s armpit hair.

    The arrival of Madame Heinrich – whoever she is – called for an automatic break, because the snobby lady was just so important, she could interfere with an uptight schedule that got me to wake up at an ungodly hour in a rush.

    Yes, I will never get over that unless I get a written apology written with Peter's blood. A raise would do, too.

    “Who is that?” I asked Stephanie when the Botox woman was out of hearing distance. Stephanie was one of the people who was in charge of the project, and the only one I could actually understand from the whole crew. She was also the one who visited our university, looking for people who wanted paid internships. I wasn’t interested for obvious reasons, but I was said to be the only one she approached for a job. I declined the offer at first, but then the first wave of college financial downfall hit me and I had no choice but to accept the job.