••A/N
Listen to Little Do You Know by Alex and Sierra for this whole fanfic because I cry because of that song
Almost as soon as we are escorted into the building, we're swarmed with producers and all other types of directors. I have to stick close to Tanner to not be pulled away by the crowd, everyone is fighting to keep up on their own.
Several cameras are lined up along a table, a few catching my direct attention. Mine is nothing compared to theirs. They have Nikon, Canon, Kodaks. Anything you can think of or hope for as a photographer. I feel insignificant with my little Sony Alpha DSLR-A200. It isn't a bad camera, not at all, it's just no Nikon. Mom and Dad gave it to me on my 16th birthday and it took up a lot of their savings. I couldn't ask for more and so, I kept this camera and I do what I can with it nowadays.
"Mr. Wilde. Right here. Just have a seat and we'll have a makeup and clothing team right on you," A near-balding man directs, keeping his eyes on Tanner until he walks off, hands clasped in front of him. We're left at a table in front of a mirror, Tanner in the chair, of course, and I'm on a small padded chest that comes a lot lower than Tanner's level. I write down a few notes as a situation placer and glance up in time to see the makeup team getting to work, the clothing director next to him explaining something.
"We'll be doing the majority of the shoot outside but don't worry, you'll be shirtless for that half. It won't get too hot. We'll just do some simple cover pictures in here as backups before we head out, if that's okay with you," The man explains, his lips curling over as he ends.
"Yes sir, definitely. Thanks." Tanner says in a polite tone, outstretching his free hand to shake the mans.
The whole scene is kind've intimidating if I'm being honest. The atmosphere, and really just how everyone is either giving me a weird look as to why I'm here or completely ignoring me to focus on Tanner. Like, oh, I'm sorry, I'm not wearing Couture fashion or anything. I literally just wore a v neck and jeans because I hadn't expected that I needed to wear anymore. But apparently, considering all these people in either rompers like the one Monica was wearing or dresses of pantsuits made of silk. The whole affair is way out of my comfort area. This is definitely a first.
Tanner's led off quickly and I'm forced to weave through the crowd to catch up, finally finding a path when I hear my name being called. A hand grabs my wrist between the bodies and I'm pulled forward between people with ease. I'm pulled into someone's chest, but only for a second before I meet Tanner's eyes towering above me.
"Stay close," he commands, and presses forward towards an open white wall where cameras and lighting equipment are set up. He's in a black v neck and jeans, his hair combed into a quiff.
"Mr. Wilde, right here please." A director says and he follows, leaving me to stand awkwardly behind some other producers who grin over clipboards at Tanner. Naturally, I'd usually let it go but I can't help but sneak a glare at the girls for looking at him like a piece of meat. He's a guy, and even though he definitely does look fit, it doesn't give the excuse to drool over him.
He is directed to do a couple poses, with and without a fan blowing, and then a few of him serious instead of smiling. I have to stifle a laugh at one point because of how stiff he looks, like there's no motion in it. Without thinking clearly, I find a stereo by a table that connects to a pair of loudspeakers and quickly switch it to the radio. Immediately, the opening of Super Bass blasts over the whole warehouse and the nearest eyes, which happen to be from Tanner's photoshoot , all turn to me. I ignore them, mostly because I really could care less what they think, and dance over to the set again, eyes locking with a grinning Tanner.
He smirks, probably because this was our song to just dance around to when one of us wasn't feeling well. We'd tease eachother about everything and one of those things always came from our rapping in Super Bass.
