They arrived at the studio for the photo shoot.
"Put on the mask of the obedient artist, the glimmering star… Oh! And start considering your girlfriend!" Noah suggested.
Oh, my lovely girlfriend, Isabella Bosi …
That beautiful, twenty-two-year-old singer, whose latest single had conveniently hit the top of the charts just three months ago. Luca had even dusted off his singing skills to perform a duet with her in the beginning of their relationship.
She was strongly attracted by that quarter of Italian blood running through Luca's veins, being Italian herself. She had been imported to Nova Bay just two years ago, recruited by an independent talent agency.
Her looks supported her popularity. She was one of the most, if not the most, beautiful woman he had ever had by his side. And they were having this stupid photo shoot and interview for that stupid magazine today. Because everybody had to know more about their love and their life together...
"Let's just get through this day..." Luca said in defeat.
"Do you remember the answers to the questions?" Noah asked.
"Always!"
"Good! Don't improvise, don't add anything else. Are we clear?"
"Absolutely!"
"Good boy! We'll be over soon, if you pose nicely for the photos," Noah joked around.
"I always pose great! You're the one who's forgotten how to do it, walking around with that long face all the time!"
Noah smiled. "Sorry for growing up, Luca!"
They entered the studio, and the staff showed them to the set. Luca greeted everyone with a smile on his face, as always. Today, his facial muscles struggled a bit harder than usual.
He was introduced to the makeup artist and realized they had worked together before on a TV set. Their handshake lasted a moment too long as they tried to remember which show it was.
It was then that he heard a familiar voice: "Luchino mio..."
Yeah. That was Isabella.
He turned and saw his girlfriend. She was already in her photo shoot outfit: a flashy lime green jacket and black leather pants, so tight they looked suffocating. She was undeniably beautiful. And she was frowning, heading straight for him.
"You're late," she said, frowning.
"Sorry, babe. There was an unexpected problem at the office."
Isabella approached him and put her arms around his neck. "Don't do it again..." she ordered, tightening her hold. Then she rose onto her toes and kissed him on the lips.
Luca did not resist. How could he?
You leech! How am I supposed to clean my lips now?
He offered her the sweetest smile he could muster.
Isabella released him and turned to the makeup artist. "You! Do your job and don't go around chit-chatting with people out of your reach," she said, her tone angry and possessive.
"Honey, we are all here to do our job, remember?" Luca told her, unable to stand her behavior. He looked at her with a steady stare and a big smile on his face. Exactly as he was supposed to.
And they call me immature?
"Go get even more handsome. We'll talk later," Isabella commanded before stepping away.
Luca offered an apologetic look to the makeup artist and went to a dressing room. His outfit was designed to match Isabella's. He had reviewed it beforehand, but he still hated it. Black leather pants with cutouts and a light green jacket – same materials as Isabella's. Why did the pants need cutouts? Abby had approved everything, and he trusted her.
What else can I do?
He changed and went to get his makeup done. As usual, the result was more dramatic than he would like, but it was the theme.
What else can I do?
He knew he'd have to change his makeup twice more, once for each new outfit. But that was his job.
What else can I do?
The set was, to say the least, extravagant. Huge structures like gigantic rocks were covered in all sorts of fake minerals, crystals, and gems. The background featured psychedelic large-scale paintings. Here and there stood antique furniture, broken and repaired with a gold-like substance. Everything looked exactly like Isabella: too much and too little at the same time.
And there she was, lying on a sofa, taking instructions from the photographer.
Luca approached them slowly. Isabella had put on her seductive face and was looking at the camera provocatively. She saw him and turned.
"Ready, baby? Oh, you look so great in these clothes..." she told him, her eyes scanning him from head to toe as if she wanted to devour him.
"Thanks, dear."
She and that photographer were staging everything. He was her friend, and she had insisted on working with him. Luca had heard all about him—how innovative and influential he was. But he saw nothing innovative in his pictures, only something outrageous, even insulting. But then again, what did he know about photography?
"Let me introduce you to Ash. He knows all about you; he's a big fan," Isabella said.
They shook hands. "Nice to meet you. Isabella's told me a lot about you, too," Luca said, carefully avoiding returning the fan compliment. "Ash? I have to ask. What does it mean?"
"Ash... it's from the ashes that remain after I burn any preconception about what photography and art should be!"
"Oh, now I get it. Not bad, as long as you don't set the studio on fire today," Luca said.
"Luchino, don't make jokes! And you are an artist, too," Isabella scolded him.
"No offense taken, sweetheart!" Ash told her. "Even our peers don't always get my work. Luca West, I will transform you today. This shooting will be an unforgettable experience for both of you. I dare say, it will bring your relationship to another level," he continued.
Luca kept smiling and stayed silent. Anything said would sound wrong.
It's just a job.
"Did you hear? Another level..." Isabella whispered, leaning so close that her breath tickled his ear.
"When do we start?" Luca wondered. He was more than eager to get this over with.
The first part of the photo shoot took about an hour. Ash was not easily satisfied, repeating shots again and again. They posed as a couple in love, full of tenderness and desire.
The second part was easier. The theme was loathing and fear—his favorite. He aced one scene right away: standing behind her with his hand around her neck. Ash looked immensely satisfied and muttered something about boundaries being easier to cross with such intimacy.
You have no idea...
The third part was the most surreal. They were to pose as 'two units divided in space but united in time.' Luca knew he wasn't the smartest, but that wasn't the reason he couldn't understand the concept. On the other hand, he was shirtless in a silver suit. Maybe that was even worse than the leather shorts.
It was already midday when they finished, and he was looking forward to lunch. He buttoned his jacket and headed for the dressing room. On his way, Isabella appeared, blocking his path. No one else was around.
"Did you enjoy the project? Did you feel what I felt?" she demanded.
"I don't know how you felt. And I don't care," Luca replied, looking for an escape route.
"In our profession, emotions play a large role. Don't try to fool me. You know what I want from you," Isabella said.
"Actually, I don't. What do you mean?" he asked, annoyed.
"Luchino... You know, I dream about us all the time..." Isabella continued, with no reservations.
"Then keep on dreaming," he said with a wide smile, spotting a crew member approaching. Just then, Noah appeared in the hallway—his chance to escape. "Hey, man, ready for lunch?" he said, walking by the girl blocking his way.
When they reached the dressing room, Noah asked, "What was that?"
"You know. She started her nonsense again. I can't believe it. Isn't it clear?" Luca wondered as he quickly changed clothes.
"A girl can dream. And she will for a little longer. We've prepared a table for you two."
Luca took a deep breath. "Can't we all eat together?"
"I'll be around. You know what to do," Noah replied, stepping out of the room.
Luca took off the silver suit and put on his own clothes—black trousers and a gray T-shirt with geometric shapes. Time to remove the makeup. He began wiping everything from his face, a process that was always liberating.
Finally, alone after several hours, the morning's events flooded back. He felt the anxiety of a possible catastrophe. On top of it all, Isabella had managed to upset him all over again.
Why is everyone against me? Why can't I get any rest?
He laid his face in his hands, shook his head, and tried to shake off the anxiety along with the makeup. He didn't have the luxury of losing control. He was working. Everything had to be perfect.
A sudden urge hit him. He needed an escape. He picked up his phone and searched for a specific name.
Kayla.
'Hi! Do you have any free time tonight?' he wrote and sent the message.
He continued removing his makeup, and just as he was almost done, a new message arrived.
'Hello! All of a sudden? Yes, I do. Eight o'clock?' the message from Kayla read.
'Thanks. See you then,' he typed.
He put on his jacket, ready for lunch.
At least my evening seems a bit more interesting.
Tonight, he needed someone who wasn't lying to him.