Subject: Exclusive Photoshoot Opportunity with Prestige Perle.
Dear Thalia,
We hope this email finds you well.
We're excited to offer you a chance to join our upcoming photoshoot campaign. At Prestige Perle, we pride ourselves on individuality and diversity. We find your presence as a perfect fit for our brand.
The shoot will be held at our downtown studio in Paris, led by our esteemed creative team. You'll get to display our latest collection in various settings, letting your creativity shine.
We're thoroughly impressed by your portfolio and we feel you embody our brands spirit. Your unique aesthetic and captivating presence make you an ideal candidate. Let us know if you're interested, and we'll discuss further details.
Warm regards,
Juliette Lambert
Creative Director
Prestige Perle
"Are you serious?"
Junipers voice emanates from the phone held up to Thalias ears, causing her to startle and switch the call to speaker mode.
"I mean, dude! This is a major brand- it could launch so many more opportunities. I'm so proud of you, Thalia!"
"Thank you, Jun. I'm proud of me as well."
Thalia grins widely, falling back onto the couch and kicking her feet in the air like a giddy teenage girl with a crush, completely unaware of her actions.
"This is so cool," Juniper says, "we have to tell Pierre and A."
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
"I don't wanna jinx it. I finally have something great happening for me, a major opportunity. I can't risk this."
There's a hum of understanding emitted from the other end of the line. "You're right."
A twenty-heartbeat silence hangs between them before Thalia abruptly sits up, tapping away at her phone with a grin.
"Fuck it. Let's tell them."
The pulsating beat of the dreadful club music reverberates, assaulting numerous eardrums.
Juniper suggested the nightclub, deeming it fitting for celebration. In their view, celebration entails getting wasted, loosening up an excessive amount, and abandoning all sense of dignity.
"To Thalia," Pierre raises a glass, "the star of the night!"
As the night wears on and drinks flow without hesitation, Thalias vision begins to blur, and so does her conscience.
Standing amidst the swirling lights on the dance floor, it feels, for a second, like she spots a familiar face. Could it be Camille? Did she come here too, following them? Perhaps it's just the alcohol playing tricks on her mind.
She brushes off the thought, opting to take more shots to silence her overactive brain.
Yet, amidst the throng of leering men and their futile attempts to catch her attention, she can't shake off the unsettling notion that someone else's gaze is fixed on her. Someone that's not a creepy man at all.
