EXCEPTional

Ch. 1 (Chance)

A/N: Firstly, thanks for checking out my story! You're the greatest! *Hugs* For those of you new to this story, I would like to request that you check out book 1 first, as I make reference to it throughout this novel. And I would really rather not have you confused. You can find it on my profile, entitled, "ExtraOrdinary." Please read that first before you jump into the sequential adventure! Thanks!

Hugs,

Madison :3

*Chance*

There was a click of a camera, a flash of light, a collective gasp, and a clap of hands. There was a shout from the photographer, and people rushed to fix the smallest blemishes.

 I sent my smile to my stylist as she adjusted the shirt I was wearing. "How do I look, Sally?" I asked her flirtatiously.

 She looked at me from over her glasses, and then rolled her eyes at me. She retorted, "What do you think?"

 Chuckling, I guessed, "Sexy and desirable?"

 Her eyes darted to the throngs of women waiting anxiously just outside the tape to keep them away from the expensive equipment. When Sally glanced back at me, she said, "I think the massive crowd can answer that for you."

 My smile broadened, my eyes flickering in amusement, but when my makeup artist approached with her pallets of flesh colors, I turned my expression to stoicism to make her job easier.

 Currently, I was working on a shoot for People Magazine. They had called my PR agent last week, asking me to model some outfits for several articles. Since Fiorello launched me at every opportunity, I took the job. That was why I stood in a tacky sweater vest and slacks combination, completed only by the pair of fake glasses perched on my nose.

 When my makeup artist finished, I was attacked by my hair stylist. Outside the studio, RJ was actually one of my good friends, but on the scene, he was rude and impatient. He pulled at my hair, drenching me in hairspray and lathering on the gel to spike up the front of my hair. When he finished, he hit my arm and left the camera frame.

 The lights were adjusted, brightness altered, and everything was put in place. RJ checked for flyaways, Lori, my makeup artist, for splotches, and Sally for wrinkles. When everything looked perfect, the team nodded to the photographer.

 He straightened, hands on his hips as he thought of my next pose. Once creativity knocked, he instructed, "Walk towards the camera. You just got back from a great job interview—you nailed it. Sally, give him the jacket!"

 She shoved a tan jacket into my hand and rushed off—things moved fast in this business.

 Then, I strode towards the camera in long steps, smiling. A wind machine was added at the bark of the photographer, and I blinked against it, keeping my smile natural.

 Several flashes of light later, Dixon, the photographer, stopped and turned to the images on the computer. He and two others analyzed them for anything major that required physical change, rather than computer manipulation.

 While they did that, Sally came up to me, handing me a water bottle. She commented, "You've got this whole thing down, don't you?"

 I swallowed and licked the water from my lips. Giving her a smirk, I said, "You know what you're doing, too."

 "Yeah," she allowed, taking the bottle again, "but no one's taking my picture."

 I smiled, and then Dixon announced, "We've got it! That's a wrap for today. Thanks everyone for your hard work. Great job today, Chance." He shot me with his finger gun and turned back to the computer screens.