The Bad Boy's Good Girl

6. "Shut Up And Pose."

"Another, 'I Wish I Was Him' shot," I say. I'm working on a couple photos with the three of them, sort of a love triangle. 

"Okay," she says.

I take a few more pictures, ending with a pic of Drew and Noel kissing, which I'm pretty sure Oliver didn't have to fake the jealousy. This album is so not going to my photography teacher.

After, I do Drew's makeup - a long cut on the side of his face with a black masquerade mask covering his eyes. I puff up his hair a bit, needing to get quite close to him for that. I dress him in the plain white shirt and black pants he was wearing, but force him to be barefoot and a blazer over just to add the fanciness.

"Okay, this next album is 'Deadly'. Go stand next to that tree." I point to a large tree. "Just splay your hands out - yes! Perfect! No," I groan as he shifts his legs. "Hey! Back to how it was."

"I really don't like 'Ms. Photography'," he mutters.

"Shut up and pose," I yell to him. He snaps his head to the side, acting like he's running from something. I click the picture. "Perfect," I say. 

For the next few shots, I completely lose myself in my camera, the props, the 'models', so on.

"Drew, Oliver, take off your shirts," I order.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Drew says, suggestively.

"No, but come over here. Noel, do the makeup for Oliver," I say, as I force them into chairs.

"What shall it be?" Noel asks as she gets out her kit.

"A cut on the shoulder, and his left ribs," I say as I dab red over Drew's chest. Surprisingly, he stays silent. I add the fake blood before sticking a few white feathers to the side. "Noel, I'm going to make Drew a fallen angel," I say.

"Cool," she says, dabbing a few feathers onto Oliver's cuts.

I make Drew turn around before making two more long cuts on his shoulder blades, trying to not think about how good his skin feel on my hands. 

The muscles in his back tense as I graze my finger tips over his shoulders. I shudder. Shaking my head, I add the feathers before messing up his hair a bit.

"Okay, get out there," I instruct, before dragging Drew by the hand and moving his limbs into a battle stance. Noel does the same with Oliver.

I snap a couple of pictures before finally putting down my camera. In my best director voice, I say, "It's a wrap."

"Thank God," Drew mutters as he pushes himself off the ground and puts his clothes back on. "What now?"

"I'm going home," I sigh. "Bye, you guys."

"I'll take you," Drew offers. A piece of me flutters.

Wait, flutters? The hell? Dylan Scott does not do fluttering.

"No, I don't want to go on that death machine," I shudder. "Not again, anyway."

Noel gives me a, 'go with him, you dumb ass' look.

"Oh, come on, Camera Girl," he smirks. "You aren't scared of a motorcycle, are you?"

"No," I say defiantly, standing my ground.

"We'll drop the props at your place tomorrow," Noel offers. Oliver nods quickly.

"Yeah, and Noel and I are going to dinner, aren't we, Noel?" He nudges her shoulder.

"What - I mean, yeah! Totally," she gives a nervous laugh, running her fingers through her straight hair.

"But - but -" I frown. "Fine," I give in.

"Great," Drew grins.

"I'm so dead," I mutter.

***

"S - slow down!" I cry as he speeds down the road. I tighten my arms around his waist.

"Don't look," he murmurs, speeding up.

"Oh God," I whisper to myself. Okay, Dylan, think of anything else. I close my eyes.

I like the way his muscles tense when I touch him, I think. My face heats up as I clear my throat awkwardly. 

I didn't even realise we'd stop moving until Drew gently touches my wrist. "We're here, you can let go."

"Oh," I mutter, releasing my grip on him. "Th - thanks for the ride," I mumble. Remembering my manners, I nod towards my door. "Would you like to come inside?"

He looks at me for a long moment, his icy eyes examining my face, looking for an, 'ha ha, I'm kidding, I don't like you'. 

Then, his eyes flicker to my house. His eyes and face are impassive for a moment, before he opens his mouth.

"Sure, why not?" He smirks, something flashing in his eyes.

Oh, God, those eyes...

Snap out of it, Dylan!

"Okay," I say weakly. "Follow me."

Idiot. 

I lead the way up the pathway and stop at the door. He smirks down at me, curling an arm around my waist. I sigh, before unlocking the door.

"Oh, thank goodness, Dylan, I got your text, are you-" my mom stops. "Who's this?"

"Mo - mom?" I choke out. "This is ... um ..."

Her eyes narrow. "Your boyfriend?"

I look at her in horror before turning to Drew.

"N-"

"I'm Drew," Drew smirks.

Well, go to hell, Drew Steele.

A/N: I must've been high when I thought of freaking 'star chapters'. Really, past Jayy? I want to punch you in your stupid past face.

Hope you guys like! It's probably short, and a filler, but, hey, I tried!

Sorry you guys had to wait so long. I'll try to update sooner!

Until next time,

~The Slightly More Sensible 'Future' Jayy