“Hey, Lauren. Haven’t seen you in a while.” Taylor said with a cheeky grin pulling at his lips. Talia looked puzzled.
“You two know each other?” she questioned. I rolled my eyes as Taylor answered.
“Oh, yeah. We go way back.” he answered suggestively. I ignored this comment and spoke directly to Talia.
“What will I be wearing?” I asked her. She strode over to the long clothing rack, pulling a hanger off of the metal rail. On the hanger was a pair of black, lacy undergarments. Just a bra and underwear. I gaped at her.
“That’s it?” I squeaked, but quickly swallowed it back at the sight of Taylor’s smirk. “Wonderful.” I stated before grabbing the hanger, going behind a curtain to slip into the “clothes”, if you could even call them that. In this industry, if you didn’t like something about the shoot, they found someone else. It didn’t matter what you thought if you wanted the job. And I needed this job. Elizabeth would have my head if I backed out. After putting on the black bra and underwear, I shivered in the cold air and stepped out, walking back to Talia and Taylor. Taylor’s eyes roamed over my body and I resisted the urge to slap him.
“Everybody ready?” Talia called out, taking her position behind the camera after handing me the Gucci perfume bottle. We positioned ourselves on the massive bed. I kneeled on the plush mattress, facing the camera and holding the bottle next to my face.
“Where should I go?” inquired Taylor. Please, keep him away. Don’t make him touch me. I silently pleaded. The universe must hate me, because Talia answered with the words I didn’t want to hear.
“Go next to Lauren and act like her boyfriend. Kiss her neck, hold her waist, and make it believable.” she responded. Taylor eagerly came to kneel besides me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his warm lips to my neck. For the sake of the photo, I couldn’t be disgusted, so I put on a sultry look and gazed at the camera while making sure to have the perfume bottle on display. Not soon enough, the camera flashed and we moved positions.
This time, I had to set the perfume bottle on the side table and lay in the bed with Taylor. After the positioning, I ended up having to lie next to Taylor on my side facing him, his arms encircling my midriff and my hands lying on his chest, our legs tangled together. I avoided his eye contact and almost quit the whole photo shoot when Talia instructed us to kiss. Thinking of Elizabeth’s rage if I was fired from a campaign, especially as wide spread as Gucci, I reluctantly pressed my lips to his. With both of our eyes shut, it wasn’t too hard to imagine Zayn instead of Taylor. Just at the thought of my Bradford-born boyfriend, my heart raced. Taylor’s tongue poked my lip, but I only dug my nails into his chest. I think he got the message to stop.
Almost two hours and forty different poses later, we were finally done and I was allowed to change back into real clothes and leave with Armani. I stepped into the elevator, pressing the lobby button, but the closing doors were stopped by a tan hand. Taylor stepped in, joining me in the lift. Oh, great. It was silent for a moment before Taylor finally spoke.
“Look, Lauren. I’m sorry about what happened at the club. I was drunk and stupid. I barely remember half of what happened with you. All I know is now one of my best friends hates me.” Taylor apologized. I glanced over at his face, a solemn expression covering the usual smile. I could feel my internal barrier cracking. He had been my best friend for almost two years. How could I let one drunken mistake ruin that?
“Okay. But don’t try to hook up with me anymore.” I said, half-jokingly and half-seriously. He let out his familiar loud laugh.
“I promise.” he replied, holding out his pinkie. I chuckled at our tradition of pinkie swearing before linking fingers with him. We shook, pulling apart just as the elevator doors slid open.
