Going Nova ch. 8: The Modeling Gig

The girls walked through the hallways of the mall and found the Libertine kiosk shuttered. A sign said “Closed for fashion show at Scarlet.”

Elsie shrugged. “I guess they’ve already gotten started.”

They made their way toward the boutique and as they approached, the surrounding hustle and bustle grew quickly. There were people seemingly everywhere. Most of them appeared to be fans or otherwise guests of the event, but as they neared the entrance there was a flurry of activity from workers plying their trade. Set builders cranked wrenches on scaffolding and lights flashed on and off as men and women walked around examining each bulb. A DJ tested his playlist in fits and starts, occasionally breaking into a mini scratch session, just to please the doting fans surrounding his booth.

Brie gawked at lanky women strutting about in crisp outfits. Their makeup, too, seemed perfect. She wasn’t sure if they were models in the show or locals who were taking advantage of the event as an opportunity to show off a look from their own collection.

She turned to Elsie, “Where are we supposed to go?”

Elsie craned her head around. “Hmm. Oh, look. It’s that weird Heather woman.” Heather, the woman whom they had met at the Libertine kiosk the day before, was standing up on the runway, brusquely giving orders to various workers.

The girls pushed their way through the throngs to reach the stage. They called out to the alabaster-skinned woman. She turned and nodded, “Ah, I remember you. You are Michael’s amateur girls.”

“What are we supposed to do right now? Where should we go?” Elsie asked. “We feel like we’re in the way of literally everybody here.”

“Indeed, you are in my way right now. Go find Michael. He is in the dressing room.” The older woman pointed the way.

The girls moved on and Elsie scowled at Brie, “What a horrible woman.” Brie just chuckled.

As they pressed through the commotion toward the dressing rooms, they heard familiar names being called, though they were not their own. “Zoey! Briley!”

Elsie barely recalled the alter egos they had chosen the last time they were at the mall, but it was enough to catch Brie’s attention. She grabbed Elsie’s arm, “Hold on, someone’s calling our names.” She turned around to where the sound was coming from and she saw Oliver and Hunter. “It’s the two boys from the food court.”

Elsie whirled around and smiled brightly, “Hey, you came!”

“Well, yeah,” Oliver piped up. “You invited us.”

Hunter stared through his mop of hair at Brie. She could sense an awkward inexperience about him. He said, “I can’t believe you two are models… uh, well, I mean, I can believe it, because you’re so pretty. It’s just, um, cool.” Brie giggled and tucked some hair behind her ear, demurring at the attention.

Elsie hugged her friend close and leaned in toward the boys. “Okay, look, we’re so glad you showed up to this, but remember that we’re professionals and we have to get ready to go on stage.”

“Right!” Oliver nodded coolly, “We just saw you and wanted to say hey.”

Elsie grinned slyly. “Want me to see if I can get you backstage?”

“That sound awesome,” Oliver answered.

“Yeah, cool,” Hunter added.

“Alright, we’ll see what we can do.”

The girls parted from the boys and headed for the dressing rooms. They pushed open a door and were met by a large bouncer on the other side.

“Staff and talent only,” the man said flatly.

“We’re staff,” said Elsie.

“Names?”

“Zoey and Briley.” Brie interjected.

The bouncer scanned the list, “Alright, you’re on the list. And you’re not staff, you’re talent.”

“That’s what I said,” Elsie commented to Brie.

“I need ID.”

The girls exchanged a panicked look. Elsie patted the too-small pockets of her shorts, and Brie mimicked her friend, though there were no pockets on her skirt. Elsie looked up at the tall man and spoke meekly, “Uh, we don’t have IDs?”

“Sorry, can’t let you in without ID.”

At that moment, Michael rounded the corner and spotted the two girls. He chimed in, “Fantastic, you’re here!”

“You know these girls?” the bouncer asked.

He waved his hands wildly, “Yes, yes, let them through. They’re talent.”

Elsie attempted to push past, but was met with the bouncer’s meaty hand on her shoulder. “Hold up, you girls are both at least 18?”

Again the girls looked at one another, then nodded furtively.

“Could’ve fooled me. All these white girl models with no tits. I’m getting so old, I can’t even tell. You all look like kids to me.”

Brie almost piped up about her pet peeve about being called a kid, but Elsie forestalled the effort with an elbow jab to the side.

“But given that’s the case,” the man continued, “you won’t need a parent or guardian to cosign these releases.” He handed them each a clipboard with a consent form to use their likeness in marketing materials for the Libertine and Scarlet brands.

Elsie gave the contract a cursory glance and scribbled her signature at the bottom. She then danced around impatiently as Brie read through the entire document thoroughly. She furrowed her brow, then looked up at Elsie. “We gotta be careful. It says they can charge us the full price of the clothes if we damage them.”

“Well, we’re not gonna be mud wrestling in them,” Elsie replied, before looking at Michael. “Right?”

Michael chuckled, “Of course not. You’ll be wearing your own clothes for the makeup demo, and we may have you walk the runway a time or two.”

Brie chewed on the pen cap as she finished reading, then signed.

Michael clapped his hands, “Okay, great. I’ll get these off to legal. Can you be ready to go in thirty minutes?”

“Yeah, I mean, I guess we’re ready now,” Elsie replied.

“Great,” Michael said enthusiastically then rolled his eyes, “you’re better than some of the pros we have tonight. Never lose that drive. You two can wait in your assigned room. Look for your names on the door and someone’ll come get you when we’re ready to roll.”

The girls wandered throughout the backstage area, but they could barely concentrate on their assigned mission. Their heads spun wildly with wonder as they attempted to take in all the sights around them. Scantily-clad models passed by nonchalantly, not even registering the girls’ presence. Some were followed by handlers with water bottles, towels, and brushes. Coordinators guarded racks of clothing, compulsively sorting and resorting them according to their whims. Tailors chewed on pins and clipped together folds of fabric for last-minute alterations. Makeup artists sat in bright, mobile, light booths arranging their cases for easy access to the latest products in need of pushing.

“This is incredible,” Brie mused. “I can’t believe we actually got back here.”

From a distance she heard Elsie shout, “Here’s our room!”

They entered and closed the door behind them, muting the roar of activity.

“What a rush!” Elsie exclaimed.

“Did you see those models?” Brie wondered.

“Uh huh, they were so beautiful. So professional.” Both girls exhaled, seemingly for the first time since they arrived backstage. Some part of them wanted to rush back out into the fray and absorb everything they could, but another more anxious feeling came over them, and they decided to stay put, where they knew they wouldn’t be in the way or, worse yet, called out for being the imposters that they believed they were.

Elsie spun and posed in the large, brightly lit vanity mirror, which overlooked two sinks ringed with cleansing products. Meanwhile Brie poked around the room, fidgeting nervously. She discovered a curtained-off closet near the door. Inside it were two plain-looking, tan smocks and a few bare hangers. She wondered idly if she should take some of her medicine now, or wait until after they went on stage. Instinctively, she rifled through her purse, and touched the medicine bottle her mother had filled for her. Instead of taking it, however, she chose a tube of lip gloss. She turned to her reflection and unscrewed the cap, wondering aloud, “You think we’ll be able to see Ivy from on stage?”

“I doubt it,” Elsie answered as the two primped in the mirror. “The lights are always too bright to see much of anything when you’re on stage.” She turned to her friend, eyes wide with excitement and mischief. “More important question: how do we get the boys back here?”

Brie giggled nervously, but didn’t have an answer. She pressed her lips together and puckered up at herself in the mirror and Elsie swiped the lip gloss from her with a grin. “Here, watch this.” She, too, smeared the wand over her lips and then leaned in to her reflection, puckering her lips and planting a kiss right on the glass. She peeled back, leaving a glossy, lip-shaped smear behind.

Brie was tickled. Then Elsie leaned over to her with a giggle, threatening to bear hug her and leave a kiss mark behind on her, too. Brie squealed and pushed her friend away. The two laughed aloud.

Just as they broke from their embrace, the door swung open and the commotion of the event came roaring into their dressing room. A large woman in a white dress shirt and black pants came in toting a clipboard. “Zoey and, uh, Briley, I guess?”

“That’s us,” Elsie said with a smirk.

“Show’s starting in five minutes. Y’all are up first, so be ready.”

Brie piped up, “We are ready.”

The woman furrowed her brow at them, then peered into the closet. “Y’all are doing the makeup demo, right?”

“I think so?” Brie replied, clearly unsure of herself.

The woman checked the clipboard. “Yep, you’re getting made up, so the two of you need to get undressed and put on these smocks,” she said, gesturing to the sack-like garments in the closet. She looked back at the girls and tutted, “And make sure you wash your faces. You can’t have any makeup on when you go out there. You don’t have to wash your hair, though, that’s part of the demo.” Both girls nodded. “Any questions?”

Elsie instinctively raised her hand, as if she were in class. “Um, yes, we were promised that our boyfriends could be with us back stage…” Her lie trailed off and Brie’s heart skipped a beat.

“Alright, write their names down on this sheet and we’ll page them.”

With that, the woman left and the two girls could only grin and giggle at one another, having successfully snuck their new infatuations back stage.

As they scrubbed their faces with the products that had been put in the room, they heard the DJ call Hunter and Oliver over the PA. Elsie’s ears perked up. “Oop, we gotta get changed before they get here. There’s no dressing room.”

“This is the dressing room, you idiot,” Brie taunted.

Elsie stood up and, instead of pulling her shirt over her head, undid the ties of the spaghetti straps of her crop top and pulled it down until it gathered around her waist. Then she unbuttoned her shorts and, with one shimmy of her hips, slid everything but her sneakers off of her body all at once. As she stepped naked out of the pool of fabric, she glanced up and caught Brie staring at her with wide eyes. Elsie blushed uncharacteristically at her friend’s attention. “What?”

Brie chuckled softly, “Nothing. That was just… kind of impressive.” And after a pause, “Also, I can’t believe you’re not wearing panties again.”

“Hee hee,” Elsie giggled and then made for the closet. She pulled out one of the smocks and then tossed it over her head. Again, she checked herself in the mirror. The dresses were unadorned and quite shapeless, landing at about mid-thigh. She frowned, “Well, this is ugly.”

Brie turned and sized up her friend, “It’s not that bad on you.”

“I look like a waif.”

“You just gotta rock it, Els,” Brie replied sarcastically. “Isn’t that what you told me this morning?”

Elsie stuck out her tongue. “Brat.” She flung the other smock carelessly over Brie’s head. “C’mon, get naked. The boys will be here any second.”

Brie sighed and tossed her face cloth in the sink. She stood up and shimmied out of her skirt and shirt. As she dropped them to the floor, Elsie went to the dressing room door and began to open it.

Brie squealed out, yanking the smock in front of her to cover herself, “Els, what are you doing?”

Elsie turned to her. “Relax, I’m only opening it a crack. I’ll stand guard and warn you when they’re coming.”

Suddenly, the door was pushed wide open as the woman from before returned. Elsie staggered backwards from the sudden force of the door. The two boys were in tow.

“Elsie!” squealed Brie, quickly pulling the smock on over her head and pulling it down over her hips. She glared, red-faced, at her friend, who could only shrug apologetically. Brie blushed. She had moved quickly, but the two boys stared, trying to process what they had or had not actually seen in that brief moment.

“Alright,” the woman called out, oblivious to the tension, “You boys will have to wait here, though I can’t imagine the show will be that interesting from this point of view. For you girls, it’s time for y’all to hit your mark, whether you’re ready or not.” She herded them out the door.

The two boys didn’t know what to do, so they quickly resorted to their phones.

They walked down a narrow, darkened hallway, toward a brightly lit opening. They could hear the DJ rallying the crowd in the distance and getting everybody hyped for the show. Cheers and whistles punctuated the enthusiasm of the room.

As they approached their mark, they heard their introduction: “All makeup tonight is provided by Libertine, a brand new entry in the beauty arena, and let me tell you, everybody on this stage is looking young, elite, and sexy. Can I get a YES to that?” The crowd cheered in response. “Coming up first, we’re going to give you a live, Get Ready With Me demo that shows how Libertine can transform you from your average, everyday looker to the most gorgeous, most knockout, best possible version of yourself. Let’s get our two models out here. Zoeeey and Brileeeey!”

“Time to go,” the large woman said, and patted the girls on their butts.

“But. Where do we go? What do we do?” Brie pleaded, suddenly aware of how little she knew about the gig she had signed up for.

“Just down the catwalk to the end of the stage. Sit in the chairs and they’ll take care of the rest.”

The two girls exchanged nervous glances and stepped timidly out into the light. The crowd cheers filled their ears, battling with the thumping music, but as they slowly started off, they could hear the woman shouting after them, “Walk with confidence!”

Both of them stood up straight and padded barefoot down the walkway. Brie looked around at the throngs of people and felt an overwhelming urgency to hide. Despite amply covering her body, her smock was so thin that it made her feel exposed, and she tugged at the bottom hem, trying to make it go lower. She glanced over at Elsie, and noticed that she looked radiant. The girl exuded enough confidence that she looked like a professional. She was eating up all the attention. This made Brie feel even more self-conscious, but she stared forward and attempted to give it her best game face.

Meanwhile, standing in the crowd near the stage, Ivy recognized the two young faces before her. She was standing behind a row of reserved seating with a man she had brought along with her. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed.

“What?” her date questioned.

“I know those two. I had no idea they were models.”

“Zoey and— what was it? Riley?”

“I don’t know why they’re using those names, but one of them is Hazel’s daughter, Brie. The other one is her friend.”

Up on stage, the two girls strode to the end of the catwalk and found two barber-style chairs swiveled toward them. They split up and took their seats. Suddenly, two strong, male assistants appeared with cutting capes and flung them with grace around the necks of the seated models. The capes draped over their shoulders and arms, and down over their knees. Then the two girls’ chairs were spun around to face the crowd.

Brie was already overwhelmed by the spectacle. She was dizzy with fear about being judged by the audience. She glanced over to her friend who giggled at her and mouthed the word, “Relax.” Brie took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the crowd.

Over the thudding DJ music, Heather’s voice began to speak, describing to the crowd what was to go down on stage. “Today our lovely models will be going to a rave festival, and they’re going to want to look their very best. Perhaps to turn the eye of a boy, or perhaps just to bring out the confidence they feel on the inside, so they can dance without holding back.