The day of the session finally arrived.
Ethan's studio was only a few minutes from campus, small from the outside, but surprisingly spacious once you stepped in. The walls were painted a clean white that reflected the natural light streaming in through the tall windows. In one corner, tripods and light panels stood neatly arranged; in another, a cozy waiting area with a dark leather couch, a few plants, and the faint smell of coffee filling the air. Everything about the place reflected Ethan himself: quietly passionate.
He could hardly contain his excitement. And to his surprise, Isaac turned out to be incredibly cooperative. He arrived right on time, calm, polite, and easy to direct. At first, Ethan had expected him to be an arrogant jerk, especially after demanding such a ridiculous amount of money, but as the session went on, he started to suspect Dante must've said or done something to make him react that way.
Still, none of that mattered now. Everything was going perfectly.
Isaac had his hair tied up in a loose bun, a few strands falling deliberately over his forehead. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt and wide camouflage pants. The contrast between his simple clothes and his striking features made him impossible to ignore.
"I know I said it'd be just one session," Ethan explained while adjusting one of the lights, "but today I need to take some test shots first, just to see if the magazine approves the look, okay?"
Isaac sat on a wooden stool against a green backdrop and nodded once.
"No problem."
"Good. Chin up a bit… there. And look that way." Ethan pointed toward the far corner.
Isaac obeyed every direction without hesitation. It was almost comical. If Ethan said "raise your hands," he did. If Ethan said "jump," he jumped. But by the time they wrapped up, the photos looked great, better than Ethan had dared to hope.
"Thanks, Isaac," he said, lowering his camera. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear back from the magazine."
Isaac stood, towering effortlessly, that quiet presence of his somehow filling the room without a single word.
Out in the reception area, Claire was scrolling through her phone. The moment she saw them, she beamed. "Hey, we're not ending the day like this. I booked us a table at your parents' restaurant, Ethan." Her tone left no room for argument.
Ethan blinked, unsure whether to protest or not, and turned to Isaac, embarrassed. He had no idea if the guy would even want to come. But Isaac only shrugged, completely unfazed.
"Sure," he said simply.
Ethan blinked again, surprised. So the only thing this guy refuses to do is modeling? he thought, hiding a small smile.
The restaurant was elegant, quiet, and warm. Soft music drifted through the air, and the low murmur of conversation mixed with the clinking of silverware. There weren't many people, but one look around told you everyone there had money.
Isaac glanced around with polite curiosity. The light caught his golden eyes, making them shine faintly. Even dressed casually, he drew attention; more than one head turned as they passed. They were guided to a private room.
"How much does a reservation here cost?" Isaac asked casually as he took his seat, his gaze exploring the room.
Claire smirked. "Less than what you charge for a photoshoot." Her teasing tone made Ethan nearly choke on his drink.
"Claire…" he muttered, embarrassed, giving her a warning look.
But then something unexpected happened. Isaac smiled. A real smile. It softened his whole face, making him look different, warmer, almost disarming.
"So, I'm pretty important then, huh?" he replied with a matching sarcasm.
Claire laughed, tension dissolving in an instant. Ethan couldn't help but laugh too.
As lunch went on, the atmosphere grew light and easy. They discovered Isaac was surprisingly good company, intelligent, attentive, and far more approachable than either of them had imagined. He seemed to know a bit about everything: physics, photography, cinema, even music and literature. He spoke calmly, his voice steady, thoughtful, the kind of tone that made you want to listen.
And Isaac, for his part, found them pleasant too. Different. Unlike Dante, they weren't… chaotic.
For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply enjoy it.
And the answer came faster than anyone expected. The editor who had hired Ethan didn't just email him, he called.
"Where the hell did you find that model? Is he even real?!"
Ethan had to bite back a laugh."He's a student from my university. What do you think?"
"What do I think? He's perfect, Ethan. Perfect! If you'd used him from the start, everything would've moved twice as fast!"
"Uh, yeah… he was a little hard to get," Ethan admitted, smiling.
"Relax! I'll talk to whoever I need to, but those photos have to be published. I'll send you the wardrobe and some products for the shoot, okay?"
When the call ended, Ethan sat staring at his phone, a wide smile spreading across his face.He felt a rush of relief, a sense of calm he hadn't felt in weeks. Everything was finally falling into place. Even better than he'd hoped. And it was all thanks to his friends. Especially Dante. He had no idea how to thank him for what he'd done.
And then there was Isaac. He really enjoyed working with him. He was polite, composed, easy to guide.There was something about his quietness, his steadiness, that made Ethan feel strangely at peace, even if he couldn't explain why.
Meanwhile, Isaac was still tense.The payment from the session had helped a lot, but his scholarship was still suspended.If it wasn't reinstated before the end of the month, he'd be in real trouble. He'd even filed a formal complaint, threatening to escalate the issue for "unjustified suspension." That at least seemed to help , the women at the office had promised him an answer within three days.
"So, now you're a model, huh?" Kegan teased, lounging beside him under the shade of a tree.
Isaac chuckled softly, lighting a cigarette. "It's easier than I thought. You just sit there and do whatever they tell you to."
"Haha, you were born for that. Think your dad's gonna freak out when he sees the photos? You haven't told him anything yet."
Isaac's smile faded. No, he hadn't told his father about the suspension. He couldn't. He didn't want to worry him. But Kegan had a point. If his father saw him posing in a magazine, and especially during mourning, he wouldn't be angry, exactly… just confused. Because Isaac wasn't that kind of person, and his father knew it.
"I'll call him tomorrow," he said quietly.
"He'll understand," Kegan replied, patting his shoulder gently.
The second shoot was much more professional.Claire had volunteered to handle wardrobe and makeup with a couple of her friends, working with precision and enthusiasm. They adjusted the clothes, fixed Isaac's hair, and retouched the smallest details like real stylists.
Ethan, however, was too tense to enjoy any of it.He barely spoke. Every photo came out good, but something still felt missing, as if the pictures had no soul. His frustration was visible in the tightness of his shoulders, the way he frowned at every preview.
Isaac, sitting calmly on the stool, watched him for a while before standing.
"We're not fin—" Ethan started, but Isaac walked over, cutting him off with quiet confidence.
He looked at the monitor, at the dozens of photos glowing on the screen, and then back at Ethan. His expression was composed, almost soothing.
"I think you need a break," he said, voice calm but firm.
"What? No, I'm fine. Just… a few more shots. Are you tired?"
Isaac shook his head. "No. But you are. Come on. Let's get some air. I need a smoke anyway."
His tone was steady, but carried enough authority that Ethan didn't even try to argue.
Outside, the air was cold and crisp.The wind brushed past them, carrying the faint scent of rain and leaves. They leaned against the wall in silence, both watching the pale winter sky.
Ethan felt awkward, not knowing what to say. Isaac lit a cigarette, exhaling to the opposite side so the smoke wouldn't drift toward him.
"Breathe, Ethan," he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. "Everything's going to be fine. You're doing great."
Ethan blinked, surprised.He hadn't expected that, not the empathy, not the warmth. He felt a little guilty, realizing how wrong he'd been about him.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sorry… It's just that this project is my dream, and I don't want to screw it up."
Isaac stubbed out his cigarette and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You won't. Trust me."
Ethan smiled — tired, but genuine.
"Thanks."