Throw It All Away [Zayn Malik]

Chapter 8: Connecting

I'm sorry this is so late, I really am. I have just had barely any time to actually write and do anything for pleasure anymore, which is terrible and just plain dumb. Ugh, but I'm going to try and write and do stuff and actually be productive with school and life in general. 

I also admit that editing hasn't really been a thing on this chapter. I'm usually an editing freak, but this literally is how little time I have. Damn... 

So sorry this is late again, I'll try and update ASAP after Human and whatnot. Thank you all so much for being such lovely readers! And I know some of you have really been craving some Zana interaction! Though it will be minimal, next chapter, there will be a flicker of it and in the second half of the story in general, things should really speed up!

On the right is my vision of Evan, played by the wonderful Callan McAuliffe! ;) 

As always, I love to hear what you think! Please let me know in the comments!

Dana

            “Oh so you’re Ms. Jane’s daughter? I didn’t even know she had one, how wonderful!”

            The rather tall man with spiked hair grins down at me, a curious smirk on his face. A huge camera dangles around his neck on a thickly padded strap, looking like some sort of foreign object protruding from his chest.

            The man had run up to me to minute I walked into the studio, looking around in awe at the bustle of people and equipment. He had instantly begun talking and waving his arms around, asking who I was and trying to figure out why I wasn’t on his roster of models. 

            I had quickly explained to him that Jane is my mother and that she’s requested me to replace the model that is out today. At the mention of my mother, he immediately calmed and his panic was replaced with joy, and now here we are. 

            “How wonderful that you’re going into the family business,” the man smiles again, a bit too widely to be comfortable for either of us. “Well, call me Kent. I’m sorry for freaking out a bit before, but I’m just very stressed today, what with Cass gone and-“ 

            “Don’t worry about it,” I cut him off, feeling a bit overwhelmed and smiling apologetically. “Uhm, so… what should I do to get started?” 

            I glance down at the casual spring dress I’m wearing, made of a brightly floral printed skirt with a belt connecting it to a silky white top. The sleeves are short and ruffled as well as the bottom of the skirt, coming to rest a couple inches above my knees. 

            Kent looks me over as well before gesturing to one of the many photo areas, before beginning to walk. “Come over here,” he says. “I’ll get you started.”

            I follow him over to the empty booth, watching the many different models following their photographer’s orders, shifting positions and freezing for different shots.

            Despite the fact that it’s not that complex a process, no different than taking a school picture a hundred times over, I find myself fascinated the whole time. Most of the models smile and laugh for the camera, but the minute the clicking sounds stop, they drop the act and look more stoic than ever. 

            It’s so false, so… convincing, until you see it up front, I don’t even know how to feel about it. 

            “Dana!” Kent’s voice snaps me from my thoughts and I quickly jog over to where he is placed in front of a camera stand and next to a rolling table with two computers sitting atop it.