Lyrical Lights

by Maria La Serra

  Love.

  This quest for love—it was like searching for the Holy Grail, and after a while, I’d come to believe it was only a myth. Love is the daughter of a trickster; no magic happens. It was nothing more than an idealism that made a relationship between two people appear more romantic or meaningful, I thought. The problem was, if you didn’t know love, how the hell did you stop yourself from looking for it? Especially peering into a pair of eyes that were trying to convince your mind of anything otherwise. Good grief, all of a sudden I had this crazy craving for a spoonful—no, make it a crater-full—of Nutella.

  “She’s right, you probably should stay away.” Simon glanced down at his glass, giving it a swirl. “If I go anywhere near you, she’ll have my head on a silver platter and my arse in the binner.” He emphasized the word binner, referring to Gloria’s favorite word.

  “I hate when she says that,” I laughed.

  “You reckon? I hear it thousands of times on the set.”

  He smiled, and our eyes met.

  “Mable, I hope you haven’t made up your mind about me. You have the most important aspects I look for, what I’m attracted to.”

  He sensed it, I knew it, and we’d already begun this tango, this two-step dance with each other.

  “And what is that?” I drew myself in.

  “A great personality, beautiful eyes … full, full lips … the kind I would like to kiss, if given a chance.”

  I knew there was a reason I liked this man. What can I say to discourage him and myself?

  “Ah,” I said, laughing, trying to shake off whatever had gotten me bothered. “Great personality? Ha, you haven’t seen my full potential yet. I’d like to hear what you have to say when you do … I’m pretty feisty and stubborn. A woman who always speaks her mind,” I said, and he studied me for a second.

  “You seem harmless enough. I’m not afraid of your full potential … I like feisty, but stubborn … hmm.” He gave me a wide smile. “I’m glad you speak your mind. It will save me the trouble of trying to guess what the hell you’re thinking.”

  “You’re intolerable.” I shook my head.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He sucked in air, making me wonder how long it would be before I wore him down, or before he lost interest. “Look,” he continued, “I understand you don’t want to give me your number, and I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with, but can I at least give you mine? I would like to see you again. I’ll leave it up to you … tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’ll get me into so much trouble.” I averted my eyes around the room. If I take his number, I won’t be helping myself. I’ll break my promise to Gloria and my future cats.

  “Why?”

  “I promised Gloria that I wouldn’t go anywhere with you or near you.” I studied the space between us.

  “She wouldn’t have to know … I can keep a secret if you can.”

  I playfully narrowed my eyes. “You’re relentless, Walter.”

  “So I have been told. I hope you can understand.” He searched my face. “I can’t go without trying.”

  “Do you always get what you want?” I said, forcing myself to pull back, because I realized how hard it was not to be drawn in by this man.

  “No, I don’t,” he said honestly.

  “Hmm, why do I find that hard to believe?” I glanced around the room—there were attractive women everywhere—and it was making me wish I was wearing more than just lip gloss. He could have gone after any of them.

  “You’re surrounded by hot girls all the time. You don’t fool me, Walter.”

  “You’re right, I am, and I take my job seriously. I don’t mix work with my personal life. Even though I don’t have much of a life these days.” He scratched his jawline. “But to be honest, what attracts me goes beyond someone’s attributes. I guess you could say I’m searching for truth in a world where everything is staged. I’m looking for authenticity in a person, and in this business, you don’t come across much, or any at all. When you find it, you could never doubt it, and that’s why it would be so hard to let it go.”

  “Do you see the truth in me?” I stared at him, because somehow his answer mattered.

  “Yes, I do, Mable.” His eyes delved into mine, like he was satisfied with what he saw. “You’re more real than anyone in this room.” There was something honest about his admission and it made me wonder exactly what he saw.

  Good grief, here I’d thought I was doing a good job of holding off, but if he’d kissed me then, I wouldn’t have been able to hold my ground. “There’s nothing you can do or say to change my mind. I’m a brick wall.” Way to go, Mable; why not give him a challenge?

  “Do you know what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?” He leaned in closer, and chills run through me, making me wish he’d kiss me.

  I guess I’ll never find out; Gloria was approaching. “I got to go,” I said. I stood up, disappointed, but it was one last desperate attempt to pull myself away from him.

  “Will you be okay?” I nodded to the almost-finished drink in his hand.

  “I had my limit … I’ll get someone to take me home.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear, you have nothing to worry about,” he said, and I believed him. His eyes shifted from Gloria to mine. “Well, it’s a shame you have to go. You seem like a cool girl.”

  Cool girl …

  I felt a twinge in my stomach. There they were, those two little words to set the tone, to disqualify me from anything more. No, I wasn’t a cool girl—not tonight … Tonight I’ll be alone, feeling good about refusing to go down that rabbit hole.

  “You’re a cool guy yourself, Simon Rowe.” I answered him the only way I could, with the truth.

  “Hey, Mable,” he called back as I made my way to Gloria. I slightly turned in my step.

  “Yes?” The way Simon made me feel under his gaze, I didn’t think I’d ever get him out of my mind.

  “You still think I’m cocky?”

  “Hmm … I’m still on the fence,” I winked, and this made him laugh.

  I nodded, following Gloria toward the exit, hesitating a split second to turn back to find him still watching. The unstoppable force. With all his efforts, he will never know how close he came …

  I braced myself on the edge of the border. But something told me it wouldn’t be the last time I would see Simon. When you’re attached by an invisible thread, you’re never too far apart from each other.

  I should have taken the subway instead of Uber to the SoHo studio apartment. Maybe once I moved back home, I’d put money aside.

  I doubt it.

  It was still dark outside when I got into the car. I’d slept terribly the night before and felt like crap, so it took everything for me to leave the house at five in the morning without first having my coffee. But I didn’t want to be late and deal with Gloria’s annoying looks—it was too early for that. Gloria was the one who’d thought about me when her assistant called in sick the night before, and of course I was interested. The pay wasn’t anything to crow over, but still, money was money. I was excited, and I thought that, if I tagged along, maybe it would inspire me in another direction. At this point I had no idea what I was about to do with the rest of my life. I’d postponed college to pursue a career in modeling, and there was only so long I could depend on my father financially. I had to figure out my next move, and fast.

  Inside the loft, there were roughly thirty people on the set: a styling team, which Gloria managed, a tailor, hairstylist, and makeup artist, and the rest of the crew: handymen who’d built up the set for the backdrop. It was a two-day shoot; you needed a big group to make a quick project happen. After Gloria introduced me to the team, she led me down a hall that opened to several rooms. We continued to the end, coming into a large room that was to be used for prepping models. Inside, there were already two girls getting their hair and mak
eup done. On the opposite corner, racks and racks of earth-toned clothing were all gathered up against the wall.

  “Hmm, this dress.” Gloria held out a floral, embroidered tea-length gown.

  “Oh, how pretty … I want it.”

  “Sure, it can be yours for only twenty thousand dollars.”

  “That’s all? What a steal,” I said. Before I could look through the rack, Gloria reached over and held my arm.

  “Wait! Are your hands clean?” Gloria asked, and my mouth hung slightly open. I could deal with Gloria’s antics, but this was too early in the morning, and I still hadn’t had my coffee. I was beginning to think she was the real problem on the set—not Simon.

  “Yes, they are, mother.” I laughed because she was giving me a dead-on stare.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see you wolf down a doughnut earlier. I just want to make sure you don’t get any chocolate on a five-thousand-dollar skirt,” Gloria said, checking off a list in her hands.

  I’d enjoyed that doughnut, too! Getting dropped by Dania was the best thing that could have happened. Now I could eat whatever the hell I wanted without feeling guilty about it.

  “What? This little thing cost five thousand dollars? Seriously?” My mind couldn’t get around the fact that this tiny piece of fabric was worth more than I had in my bank account.

  “Yes, and the designer will have my head on a silver platter and my ass in a binner if her samples come back damaged.”

  “Binner? That’s not even a word,” I mused.

  “Yes, it is … the bin,” Gloria said. “Trash can?”

  “You’re so weird.” My eyes focused back on the collection. “Shit, if I had these clothes in my closet, I would never complain that I had nothing to wear.” I sighed, my fingers touching the delicate fabric of the ruffled garments. I wished I could play dress-up, because these clothes were a work of art. Bruno Ortiz’s designs embraced many types of women and sizes. His passion was reflected in the clothing he creates; that’s what the Colombian designer did best. Good grief, if only I weren’t so broke.

  “Who are you kidding? You’ll still complain.” Gloria looked down at my feet. “Good choice of footwear, by the way. It’s a good thing you’re wearing my loafers, because the first day of the shoot is always the longest.”

  She took a sip from her coffee cup. Gloria was four years older and shorter than me. She wore a bare minimum of makeup, her dark hair worn long and straight like it always had been.

  “Tell me something. We don’t live together, so how the hell do you get your hands on my stuff?” Gloria’s job was to select styles and accessories to create a whole storyline behind a fashion photo, almost like they’d became characters on their own. Her experience was vast; she’d done everything from print to television advertising campaigns. In my opinion, she had the best job. It gave her access to designer duds, sometimes all at a fraction of the price or even better—free. So, naturally, why wouldn’t I go dabbling in her closet from time to time?

  “I have a key to your apartment.” I beamed. “Kidding. Tracy lets me in when you’re out of town.”

  “Hmm, I’ll start charging you a membership fee.” She readjusted her black-framed glasses and put her cup down on a nearby table.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get them back before I skip town,” I said.

  “Keep them. I never wear them anyhow. So are you ready to start?” She smiled wickedly; God knows what she has in store for me. I had been on sets before, but never anything of this magnitude, and I was grateful that Gloria was allowing me to be a part of it. Even if it meant fetching coffee and unpacking boxes.

  “Okay, so let’s do this,” I said, like I was ready to take over the world.

  She laughed. “Oh, don’t get too excited … you will hate me after today.” Gloria walked a few steps and stopped in front of six boxes all stacked up.

  “First, I need you to go through the packages and place the accessories on this table.” She pointed to a long white fold-out board next to the boxes.

  “After that, then what?” I have a feeling I’m going to be stuck doing a lot of boring stuff.

  “That’s when the real magic begins.” She smiled at me.

  “Hey, Gloria,” said Steve, the makeup artist.

  “Should I leave the lip bare until you decide what Jenny will wear?” Steve hovered over a model in his chair, getting her glammed up for the day.

  “That sounds good.” Gloria looked around the room. “Ah, where’s Vanessa?”

  “She’s not coming,” said the other model who was getting her hair blown out.

  “What do you mean she’s not coming?”

  “When I left the apartment this morning, Vanessa was coming in from a night of partying.”

  “Well, he called it.” Gloria bit her lip and looked down at her phone. “This is not good … have you ever seen a six-foot man have a tantrum? Well, Mable, it’s your lucky day.” I couldn’t believe someone like Simon, so calm and in control, could have a temper, but then again, Gloria knew him better.

  “If you have questions, Mable, I’ll be in the other room, trying to track this girl down. Shit, wish me luck,” Gloria said over her shoulder, walking into the hallway.

  I was halfway through emptying a box when I heard footsteps coming from behind me.

  “Nice view,” a deep voice said, and I stood up quickly, realizing someone had full sight of my back.

  “Excuse me? That’s inappropriate.” I turned to find Simon standing there. Something on his face made me realize he wasn’t talking about me.

  “Yes, it would be if I were addressing your assets, love.” He frowned. “But I was talking about the view from the window. I was thinking of having a few shots taken along this wall.” There was a low laugh coming from a girl steaming out the clothing in the corner.

  “Oh.” I should have felt like an idiot, but I didn’t.

  I knew that the fashion industry was surrounded by predators, and harassment was not uncommon. You needed to protect yourself, because if you didn’t, nobody would. I, unfortunately, had had to find that out for myself.

  Once, my agent Dania had sent me on an audition test shoot, and I was excited because the photographer had worked with several luxury brands. But things quickly became weird when the photographer talked about how he always had sex with models. He asked me to remove everything but my underwear. I knew I had to get out of there quickly. I went back to my agent and told her what happened, and I was surprised by the lack of support. She laughed it off like it was nothing. “You need to grow a thick skin. It’s part of the business, darling. Men will be men, and they creep around when it comes to young pretty girls. Yes, he’s a flirt, but he’s harmless. The next time just tell him you have a boyfriend and that should set him straight.” This was my job; I didn’t sign up for any harassment or abuse. I wasn’t delusional. I knew this wasn’t normal behavior, and it shouldn’t have been acceptable. I would always stand my ground, no matter who it was. But, then again, there were good guys in this business; you just had to figure out which wolves wore sheepskin. I hoped Simon wasn’t a creep.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” His tone was assertive, a way to intimidate me.

  “Well, I thought you were okay with it. Besides, I’m here helping you out.” I caught him suppressing a smile, and I knew he was messing with me.

  “I didn’t know you were Gloria’s cousin,” he said finally, fiddling with his camera.

  “Yeah, her mom is my dad’s sister,” I said, opening another box filled with custom jewelry, all individually wrapped.

  “So … a spitfire … Does it run in the family?”

  “I heard that!” Gloria’s voice came from another room.

  “Shit, I forgot she has bionic ears.” His eyes shut for a moment, then opened again, focusing back to mine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way … I’m such an arse,” he said.

  The first thing I notice when people first learn of my disability is how uncomfortable it
makes them, like everything they say might offend me, even if the comments are not directed to my hearing loss. But I don’t get offended, and I’m not ashamed of my condition. This is a part of who I am. This is my normal.

  “It’s all right. I’m not super sensitive,” I said, and he went quiet for a minute. “You said nothing wrong.”

  “So, Gloria tells me you’re giving up on modeling and leaving New York.”

  “Well, it’s for the best,” I said with a wry grin.

  “Funny, I didn’t take you for a quitter.”

  “What?”

  “Well, you said you were stubborn … a brick wall.”

  I glanced up. He’s trying to figure me out, and I don’t know how I feel about that. I like to read people, not the other way around. “I am, but I’m not a quitter, Okay. I got dropped by my agent.”

  “So what? Doesn’t mean you should throw in the towel.”

  “Apparently, I have nothing to offer,” I said, my tone carrying an easy nonchalance.

  “Who said that?”

  “Like, all the agencies in the vicinity of New York.” I lifting my hand to the window.

  He walked toward me, kneeling down to my level. At first, I was mystified at what he was doing.

  “The main thing I’ve learned in this business is that the ones who think they know it all are those who know jack shit. Don’t allow people to make you feel you have nothing to offer when you do.” He dragged his eyes across my face. “They’re nothing but puppets, looking for the next person to exploit and cash in. Nah, you don’t want to work with these people, anyway.”

  His eyes softened, and I wanted to believe him. There was nothing I desired more than to travel the world and have a job I’d always dreamed of doing, but how could I break through and make it happen?

  “I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Well, maybe you’re right. You’re just not cut out for it … You don’t have the hunger or the drive, so what’s the point, right? No one will hire you … no other agency will want you.”