I wrote this super long ago and now he has a kid and I don't listen to his music that much anymore, but now that this is an all encompassing book I thought I might as well post it.
"At the dial tone please leave your messa-" I hang up my phone in a huff. That was the fourth time I called that model and she's four hours late.
We're on a tight schedule to get all of the photo-shoots done for Austin's new album. I'm gonna have to figure something out but in the meantime, I have to tell everyone what's going on.
I have been Austin's media manager for two years at this point and we've gotten quite close. Sometimes I feel like I'm his friend more than his manager. As the clomping of my heels gets closer and closer to the shooting area the more my nerves and stress build.
"Ok everybody, here's an update on the cover model. She's not here and she's not picking up her phone so I'm waiting on another model to respond to me," I say after I catch everyone's attention. I feel my phone vibrate in my hand. I look to see a text from the only other person I could think of that would fit the previous models profile telling me they are out of the country. I loudly groan and think about my next words carefully.
"Well, that was the other model telling me she out of the country so if anyone knows someone who has lots of body modifications, slim thick, and willing to model get them on the phone immediately ." That's all I can think to say. There's light commotion before someone peeps up and says, "Why don't you be the model?" A look to see who said it and I should have known that the face I would be met with would be Austin's.
"Are you sure Austin? It's your album so it's you're call," I ask him to make sure he's not joking.
"Of course! I think you're the perfect model for my album cover."
I'm kinda taken aback by this, but I jokingly throw up my hands in surrender and head to get changed into the outfit. I didn't really pay too much attention to what the model's garment was when I was finding the designer, but I should have before accepting this job. Blue latex gloves, thick blue and orange Nike sneakers, a navy and cobalt Louis Vuitton thong, and pasties made out of pill bottles.
What did I just get myself into?
I put the ensemble on against my better judgment and head back to the shooting area. I walk in and many jaws drop. Then I see the most important dropped jaw in the room.
"Holy shit, man. The album is gonna be fucking perfect now," Austin's excitement and enthusiasm seep into everyone around him and envelops me with comfort.
"Well then, let's get this shit started."
The simple orange backdrop makes all of the complementary blues pop like a sunset over the ocean. The rest of the set is even simpler, just a single bar stool stands in the middle of it all. Then I finally realize how Austin's outfit complements mine. The same navy and cobalt Louis Vuitton print shirt unbuttoned and showing his chest, black slacks with a gold belt, and imported Italian loafers to match. Even a Rolex with a pill bottle watch face.
"Ok now Austin I want you to sit all the way on the stool with a neutral face the whole time and (y/n) I want you to sit across his lap," the photographer commands. Now I'm nervous again. I've never modeled in my life, but the show much go on and I follow his commands.
The longer the shoot goes the more intimate the poses get and at this point my face is pressed against his cheek. He's had to keep that neutral face the whole time while I've been climbing all over him.
"Now (y/n), I want you to get behind him and hold his head against your chest," the photographer says. I move from Austin's lap and go stand behind him. The photographer puts the camera down a repositions my arm until my hand cradles Austin's face and frames my breast. He takes a step back and makes sure he likes it.
*snap*
"This is the cover," Austin says looking through the prints of all the photos. He looks mesmerized by this one photo. His head is on my chest, his eyes are closed, and he has a peaceful look on his face. My face looks loving and powerful; giving a seductive stare into the camera. He hadn't even gone through the whole stack of pictures.
"Well, then I'll send it to the designer," I say writing down the information. I look up after my pen leaves the paper and I see Austin's sly grin. I can already hear the flirty remark formulating in his head.
"I think you really make the photo," he says, grin shifting in an awkward way. I roll my eyes, giggle, and say thanks.
"Headline: Post Malone's new album cover with his new girlfriend???" I see the article and a flare of surprise rush me. I didn't even think about people thinking I was his girlfriend! I groan and look around.
"Austin, you need to see this," I yell into his house where I decided to work. He walks in with a casual band tee and basketball shorts outfit and a mug of coffee in his hands.
"What's up, some stuff about the album," he asks. I point at the headline and he raises his eyebrows.
"I'll see if that's getting buzz and figure it out," I say while going to google and typing in 'Post Malone g-" and that all I needed to see article after article about me being his girlfriend. I sigh and look up at him to see his reaction. He has a mix of a smirk and the tight-lipped white people smile. Then he looks me in the eye.
"Do you want them to be right?"
My eyebrows knit together and a bewildered smile graces my face.
"What? Are you being serious?"
His smile widens, "Will you be my girlfriend?" My jaw drops and I laugh a little.
"Of course."
I wrap my arms around him and stand up. We stand there a moment in a giggling, happy heap before he pulls back to look at the smile on my face. He only takes a moment to look into my face before he leans back in to capture my lips in a gentle kiss. A taste of beer and cigarettes apparent but not appalling and I only have a few seconds to proses those flavors before the loving kiss is over. We gaze at each other for another second after before I bury my face in his chest and hug him tight.
Bored and scrolling trough twitter the next day I see more tweets about me than usual. The source is a reply from Austin to one of the girlfriend articles. His words are simple but effective, "you know it @readers_twitter_handle." A giggle and a smile later, I reply myself with the even simpler, "🥰."
