There's so many positive 4 letter words:
Love
Like
Hope
Care
Life
Then there's negative:
Hate
Evil
Dead
For once in her life Desdemona wanted to hear negative. The word in itself: Negative. Instead she heard positive. Her whole world came tumbling d...
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I stand in the SoHo photography studio looking through the racks of clothing the stylist brought. He wasn't my first choice, but Rhea wasn't available. Now I knew why I trusted only Rhea with styling me and my clients for photoshoots because she always gets it right. It wasn't horrible, but I wasn't amazed either. I just needed my sister, Cordelia, and Ares to look their best for their first shoot.
"What about this?" He asks making me pause thumbing threw the racks to look at him. I look at the skimpy outfit he's holding up narrowing my eyes at him in a glare.
"For who?" I ask genuinely wondering.
"Cordelia."
"Cordelia? My 17 year old sister in high school. I told you bring appropriate clothing for her age. I don't know about these other models, but until she's legal and out of high school, not happening. She still has to go to public school. I will not have students and teachers thinking they can talk about her crazy."
Some may think I'm overreacting or overprotective, but I'm not. With the things that happened the year before with her ex leaking a video, she didn't need anymore negativity. School is hard enough, especially high school. She got a new start here in New York. Of course some people tried to come at her crazy in the beginning, but she made friends eventually and adapted to the big city and public school.
I rub my temples to calm myself down. In situations likes this I pushed for perfection and I expected nothing less for people I'm paying. Some tried to say I was bitchy and demanding. That's fine. I'll be both of those while I'm getting shit done the right way and laughing to the bank. Nothing gets done properly unless you apply pressure. As long as I'm paying you, you'll have to actually work for it. I don't let anyone around me be mediocre or accept mediocrity.
I grab a dress from the rack extending it to the stylist. "This dress. It's the best thing you brought. Steam it. It's wrinkled." I see him frown a little as I add, "No accessories. Keep it simple. The first shoot should be raw and focus on her face and body, not the outfit. I guess you were able to slide this time. If I pay for your services again, do better." He furrows up his brows snatching the dress from me quickly walking off. I really could give a damn. It'll make him better in the long run.
