/ beautiful girl. / •timothee chalamet•

03

March 13th, 2017

  Arms out. Stand straight. Chin up. Shoulders back. Repeat. Margo knew it all too well. From pageant shows as a child. Fittings from the last few years. Most recently, doctors visits. It used to be one of her favorite parts of getting fitted for a project's wardrobe. Her mother would smile at her so wide and bright for listening so well. Now, it just reminded her that she had people watching her. Keeping track of her body image. She wasn't self conscious or anything. She was blessed with a fast metabolism and her plant based diet made it easier for her to keep herself in check. Plus, the running and gym sessions she pushed herself to do to help with the constant thinking. Her image wasn't what worried her. It was the look Noelle was currently giving her.

  "You lost four pounds?" The blonde asked, looking up at her from Margo's spot a top the platform.

  "Mhmm." Margo nodded, trying not to move so the stylist wouldn't send her another scolding look. "No greasy french fries I can sneak from the cafe." She smirked. Noelle's look of worry was replaced by relief.

  "I can get you french fries if you-"

  "Noelle." Margo cut her off. "It's okay." Noelle nodded. She looked at the notepad next to the stylist again.

  "Hey, you grew an inch."

  "Ooh, maybe I can be a model." Margo wiggled her eyebrows.

  "Not with the way you keep moving." The stylist grumbled. Margo and Noelle shared a look, trying not to laugh.

  "Sorry." Margo squeaked. Noelle's phone vibrated.

  "I'll be right back." She walked out after Margo nodded. The brunette let her eyes scan the room, falling in the long rack of bagged clothes a few feet away.

  "Are you picking the outfits?" Margo asked. "I mean, that's usually how it goes. But I know sometimes the actors get to have a little say to see what they think fits their role best."

  "You'd be correct." The stylist chuckled, jotting something down. "You know your stuff, huh?"

  "Yea, I've been in the game a while." Margo shrugged. "What's your name?"

  "Crystal."

  "Nice to meet you, Crystal." Margo smiled down at her. Crystal was a caramel toned woman with black curls and brown eyes. Freckles littered her nose and under her eyes. She was cute.

  "You too, Margo." Crystal returned her smile. "Um, you're all done. You can step down, and follow me to the racks so you can take a look at the selection." Crystal held a hand out for Margo, who noticed the faint blush rising to her cheeks as their hands touched. Once next to her, Crystal averted her eyes. They walked over to the racks, and Margo could see through the clear bags what the clothes hung up looked like. "So, go ahead and take a look. Pick out a few things, and I'm gonna go ahead and get the next person. You two were the last for today, so once I'm done with them if you have any questions let me know."

  "Okay, thank you." Margo smiled at her. Crystal bit her lip and nodded, then walked out of the room. Margo took her time going through each hanger, pulling out only one so far.

  "Now you either really scared that girl, or just made her realize she was gay." Margo turned her head to see Timothee walking into the room. Hands hidden in the pockets of his sweater, and the laces on his sneakers undone. "I've never seen someone so flustered before." He chuckled.

  "I have the effect on people." Margo shrugged, looking back at the racks.

  "So, how'd dinner go with your mom?" Timothee asked, sitting on the platform. "If you don't mind me asking."