Charlene Whelan
I don't know what I was thinking when I had accepted to pose for Harry Styles. Or better, I know exactly what I was thinking. With 10 thousand dollars I can pay almost all my college fees, which is definitely a big help. I can survive just with this "job" for a month and then I'll find another one. I'm not sure whatever it's going to be more difficult than my usual waitress jobs, or not. I have the feeling that the real challenge will be tolerating the photographer for the whole month.
He had texted me an address in town as soon as I had finished my lessons. I had time to have lunch and then go there. I had eaten a very light salad and I had arrived just in time, unlike him.
It takes me a while to understand that the address is a studio, considering that there are no big advertising signs or windows, just a big black metal door with an intercom, from where a male voice answers me.
"Uhm... I'm with Harry Styles, I'm the model," I tell him, trying to push back the embarrassment from calling myself a model. I've hardly considered myself pretty, let alone a model. After that, the door is quickly opened and I'm faced with a big flight of stairs. Once I get on top, there's a guy on the '30s that opens another glass door to let me in.
"He's not here yet..." he tells me once he closes the glass door behind me. I slowly nod my head and move my eyes around the room. There's a grey backdrop at the end of the room, against a brick wall and there are all around the empty room big windows that brighten the whole room. On my right, instead, there are a few more people with some bags and another woman that goes through a rack of clothes.
"You must be the model?" The woman asks me, as soon as she notices my presence. I slowly nod my head, while she moves her attentive stare down my body, who's definitely too covered by my baggy clothes. "What size are you?" She asks me. "I asked Harry but he told me he had no idea and couldn't find your measurements... ridiculous!" She blurts and rolls her eyes, probably thinking that it's Harry's forgetfulness. They're probably used to work with him.
"Uhm... I wear a size 4 for jeans..." I shrug my shoulders, not really knowing what she wants to know other than that. Normally, every piece of clothing I try on is too big for me, so I stick to baggy clothes.
"Bust? Waist?" She blurts out, looking at me with her eyebrows furrowed and confusion spread all over her face. Good question.
"I'm not sure..." I shrug my shoulders. "I'm not actually a model," I specify, when I notice the confused looks on everyone's faces. The woman sighs and then takes out a meter from her bag, encouraging me to walk toward her.
"When Harry called me last night, in the middle of the night for this job, all he was able to tell me is that you're really, really thin... not really helpful, isn't it?!" The woman chuckles and rolls her eyes, while measuring my waist and taking notes.
"I guess not..." I chuckle. "Is he always like that?"
"Inattentive? Careless? Late?" She looks up at me with a sparkle of amusement in her stare. "Lately, yes."
"Great..." I let out a chuckle while she keeps doing her job of measuring me.
When Harry decides to show his face around here a whole hour is already gone. An hour that, thankfully, I had spent reading the books I had brought with me.
"Sorry, the traffic is a mess..." He tells to the whole room as soon as he gets in, putting up his best-mortified expression and act.
"Yeah, it's LA..." I sigh. "This is why I departed an hour before," I tell him, closing my book and putting it back in my bag, while everyone in the room looks at me quite shocked for the words that have just left my mouth. Harry takes a deep breath and tries hard to ignore me, instead of fighting back at me as he'd like.
"What does she wear?" The woman, the stylist, asks Harry.
"Whatever you want, Norah... I don't care!" He shrugs his shoulders and walks toward the backdrop with the guy that opened the door. "But hair and make-up need to be as natural as possible!" He immediately says, at the two other guys in the room.
First, they do my hair and make-up and once they're done, Norah helps me get into my clothes without ruining my face. She makes me wear a pair of skinny jeans with a very flashy belt, a white bra and she rests a fur on my shoulders.
"I keep it like that?" I ask her, paying attention not to let it fall off my shoulders.
"Yeah..." she nods her head. Right after, she takes two necklaces and adjusts them on my neck. I must say, that I'm kind of scared to see how it all looks in the mirror. "She's ready!" She tells Harry, who turns around and looks at me. His eyes travel down my body with an expression that I can't quite decipher, I'm not sure whatever he's just very focused, or extremely disinterested.
"Good... come here, Charlene!" He points at the white backdrop. As soon as I do as he says I feel everyone's eyes on me and I realize, for the first time, that I have no idea of what to do.
"What should I do?" I decide to ask him, considering that he's the expert here. He looks at me for a few seconds, with his camera in his hands, and then shrugs his shoulders.
"No idea... you're the model!" I sigh at his words, flashing my very mad eyes at him. He knows damn well I am not. Whenever I saw a picture on magazines I never thought there was that much work behind it, when you just look at it, it doesn't seem difficult at all. But now, that I'm in here, with a photographer in front of me, it's absolutely clear to me how wrong I was. I don't know how to move, how or where to look, the way my body will actually look every time I move or pose, and it's really nerve-wracking. I take a deep breath and I try to push my nervousness away while I bring my hand on my hips and bring my eyes right where the camera lens is. He sighs too and then brings the camera to his eye to take the picture.
"No, no... what is that?!" He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Act natural, not like that!" He says, already exasperated by the whole situation.
"Natural?!" I blurt out. "How am I supposed to act natural when I'm on a backdrop, in a studio, with a fur and a bikini underneath?!" I raise my voice at him. "There's nothing natural about that!" I suddenly regret my words but just because Norah is right there. I obviously didn't want to offend her vision, but it's hard to have one when the photographer is so careless about everything, so it's definitely not her fault. I give her an apologetic smile and she smiles back at me, telling me that she understands what I was trying to say.
"It's been one day and I already regret it all!" He huffs, bringing a hand to his face with frustration. "No, no... not even a day, a few minutes!" He quickly corrects himself and bitterly chuckles.
"Oh, well... I for sure wasn't the one begging you for this job just last night, was I?!" I furrow my eyebrows, giving him a fake-quizzing look. He rolls his eyes and sighs, obviously not knowing how to reply because, after all, I'm right. He needs me more than I need him.
"Yeah, maybe I should've added that you keep your mouth shut every time we're in the same room in the conditions..." He says, after a few seconds.
"A classic!" I bitterly laugh. "You men are so threatened by our thoughts and words that feel the need to silent us..." I shake my head to myself, feeling utterly ridiculous in those clothes. When I feel the fur slipping down my shoulders I adjust it back up again and then I try to adjust my pants, too low on my waist, too. While doing so, I see Harry quickly bringing the camera to his face and right after the flash comes, taking me by surprise.
My first idea is that he was trying to mock me somehow, by taking a very ugly picture of me while I wasn't ready at all, but he quickly brings the eyes on the screen where his camera is connected and looks at the picture that quickly appears with amazement.
"Beautiful..." He whispers to himself, while he looks at the picture on the screen. I take a few steps toward the screen too, to look at it better, and the first thing that hits me are my eyes; I was looking straight at him and I was mad. You can feel it all by this single picture.
"What is the exhibition going to be about?" Norah asks Harry while she stares at the screen too. He seems still hypnotized by the picture of me he's just taken and he takes a few seconds to answer her.
"I'm not sure yet... but I definitely like this one," He says, not looking away from it. "That's all, for today!" He says all of sudden, finally looking away from the screen. My first instinct is to breathe out a sigh of relief but everyone else just looks at him as if he's completely crazy.
"Are you sure?" Kenzo, the make-up artist, asks. "It's just one picture..." he observes.
"Yeah, and it's the one I'm going to use, so it's ok!" No one of three shocked people insist further, so I just go back with Norah to her rack of clothes to change back into mine. Harry's the first one to leave and I'm the last, once I've gotten back all my stuff. I start walking back toward the bus stop but I quickly stop when I see Harry leaning against the wall in front of me while he takes a smoke.
He moves his eyes on me and stares at me for a few seconds before saying anything at all.
"How are you going back home?" He asks me.
"With the bus..." I shrug my shoulders. Once that he's done with his cigarette he lets it fall to the ground and he steps on it to turn it off.
"I'll give you a ride!" He tells me, starting to walk in the opposite direction and waiting for me to follow him. I'm tempted to refuse the offer but the idea of skipping a very long bus ride is very tempting, so I put aside my natural pride and decide to get in his Range Rover.
"The two pictures you took of me so far look different from your usual work..." I decide to break the silence once he starts driving to get me back home. He keeps his eyes on the road and at my words, he moves them on me; they're cryptic, he looks at me with his eyebrows furrowed and keeps staring at my face as if he would find an answer to what I'm thinking on it.
"You googled me?" He softly chuckles, before bringing his eyes back on the road.
"I did..." I slowly nod my head. "I wanted to see what I had to deal with," I tell him. "All your photos look the same, these ones are so different."
"They look like my old photos but they'll never come up as the first result of your Google search," he chuckles, flashing his green eyes at me. "You must've seen my latest ones... it's exactly what my agent doesn't want to see anymore," he shrugs his shoulders and brings his eyes back in front of him. I can see some sort of sadness, or nostalgia, in his eyes right now. "What did you think?" I'm taken aback by his question, not expecting that he would ever be interested in my opinion, not with his huge, huge pride that too often results in arrogance.
"They're empty to me..." I just tell him, shrugging my shoulders. "They're maybe pleasurable to look at and that's it," I specify. "I've always intended photography as so much more..." he doesn't look surprised that I've told him exactly what I think. Something tells me that he's not used to it but he knew that he was going to get an honest opinion from me and maybe that's exactly why he asked.
"But maybe I just want to bring beauty into the world and nothing more," he chuckles, avoiding to look at me.
"But people will eventually get tired of them," he chuckles at my words, avoiding to tell me that it has already happened. "I think I prefer your nude shoots... I mean, you are no Helmut Newton, but they aren't that bad," he immediately flashes his green eyes at me, with a mix of surprise and interest.
"You know Helmut Newton?" He asks me with surprise.
"You underestimate me..." I roll my eyes at him.
"Do I?!" He quickly asks and I roll my eyes, deciding to change the subject.
"Will I have to get naked?" I ask him right away. He flashes his eyes at me again, not expecting such a question, probably.
"Would you?"
"Isn't it what you pay me for?!" I just shrug my shoulders while he chuckles at my words.
"This can sound extremely inappropriate," I chuckle at his words. "And illegal."
"It's fine to me, if you want..." I just say, putting aside the jokes. I've never had any problem with my body and I don't feel nervous at the thought of posing naked for him.
"Yeah, I'll keep it in mind... I honestly don't know what to do for tomorrow," he shrugs his shoulders while keeping his eyes stuck on the road.
"I'm sure you'll figure out something..."
"Where are you from?" He asks me all of sudden. I furrow my eyebrows and I bring my confused eyes on him, who's already looking back at me with curiosity.
"What do you mean?"
"I can hear the southern accent," he chuckles.
"Alabama," I just say, without going into details, feeling already too suffocated by even just telling such a general information.
"What city? My mom's brother lives in Birmin-"
"You wouldn't know it, it's a small town forgotten by God," I blurt out, just wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. I keep my eyes out of the window but I can feel his inquisitive look on me right now, like everyone else do every time I give this exact same answer.
"Alright, Miss Alabama..." he chuckles, trying to light up the mood but it's too late for that now. "I'll see you tomorrow?" He asks me when he stops his car in front of my place. I slowly nod my head and wave my hand in his direction before getting out of the car.
Harry Styles
As soon as I had brought Charlene back home, I had driven straight to my place to work on my newest picture. I hadn't felt so in such a long time, I hadn't felt the urge to work on my photos as soon as I had taken them in a very long time. This time it's different. For the first time, in a long time, it feels like what I'm doing has a sense again.
Once I had finished editing the latest picture I had taken of Charlene I had completely cleaned out the notice-board in my office and I had pinned to it the first two pictures I have so far. I'm not sure yet what the main theme it's going to be but maybe I just don't want or need one. Charlene is going to be the glue between all the pictures.
The ring of my phone ringing quickly gets my attention. It's the house phone and not a lot of people call me on there, which gives me an idea on who it must be. I get back to reality and away from my photos to get the call.
"Hello?" I just say.
"Harry?! Is that you?!" I chuckle when I realize the familiar voice.
"Of course it's me, mom!"
"Well, considering how much I hear from you don't be too surprised if I can't recognize your voice right away..." She scolds me as usual. Must be a mom thing. I sigh, already regretting picking up the phone.
"I've been very busy with work, mom..."
"Too busy to give me a call?"
"Alright, mom... I'm sorry," I sigh. "C'mon, how are you, ma?"
"I'm fine, honey... just really wanted to hear your voice," she tells me with a sweet tone, putting away the very offended one she usually uses for me at the start of every call. "How are you?"
"Fine... I'm working on that new exhibition I told you about last time," I tell her, my lips automatically twisting into a smile. This didn't happen in a long time either, being happy or excited for one of the many works I've done.
"Oh, yeah... sounds like something big!" She beams with happiness. My parents have always been my biggest supporters, even if they don't really understand or care that much about photography.
"Yeah, it is..." I slowly nod my head. "And how is dad?"
"He's fine too! We miss you..." she sighs. "Why don't you come visit us this weekend?" She hopefully asks. "It's been a while since last time, honey..."
"Mom, I can't... I'll be very busy until I'm done with the exhibition!" I quickly say. Every other time I find an excuse it's usually fake but not this time. I'll have to work with Charlene every day for the next month, which makes me feel a little less guilty about not seeing my parents. They're good people and miss them too most of the time, everything else about the place I grew up in is the problem. "But you and dad will come to see the exhibition, right?"
"I'll tell your father about it if you text me the dates and place, honey... we won't miss it!" She says, without showing her disappointment like other times. Or maybe she just got used to it.
"I will, mom!" She stays silent for a few seconds after my words, contemplating whatever to say next. I can almost read her silence, imagining what she wants to say. The same thing I haven't stopped thinking about since I first heard her voice tonight.
"It's 5 years tomorrow, Harry..." She decides to say, her voice slightly shaking.
"I know, mom... there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about it," I decide to tell her the truth, which hasn't been happening for a while. I stopped talking to my mom, or anyone else for the matter, a long time ago. This time, I just needed to talk about it with someone.
"Are you sure you're ok?" She asks me. "Why don't you stop by tomorrow?" She insists. "Ingrid would appreciate it, you know..."
"Mom, I have to go!" I quickly say, feeling already exhausted by where this conversation is going. I've been trying to block it out of my mind for a long time now and I don't want to get back to it.
"Fine..." she sighs, knowing exactly where the problem is this time. "Goodnight, honey..." I hear her saying, before I put down the phone. Goodnight mom.
Before even thinking about it too much I take out my phone and start typing out a text.
I'll come to pick you up tomorrow at 3PM
I send it to Charlene, having figured out what's about to come for tomorrow. Without waiting for an answer I walk to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the rest of the night.
I hadn't planned to attend the party I had been invited to tonight too but as soon as I had put down the phone I had felt claustrophobic into my own house and I had to escape somehow. It happens most of the nights, to feel scared at the thought of having to alone in my own house. I had regretted buying such a big house as soon as I had found myself alone in it.
As the alcohol burns down my throat I feel myself forgetting all about it more and more.
"Hello, baby!" I recognize the voice of the person wrapping her arm around my chest right away. I bring my eyes on her face and I realize I was right.
"Hey, Barb!" I kindly say, trying to match her smile. We hook up most of the time, whenever we feel like so. She's a nice girl with not too much to say.
"I was hoping you would come!" She tells me, resting her head on my shoulder. I can tell she's already had too much to drink.
"How are you?" I ask her, not too interested right now but just to be polite.
"Fine, a little drunk..." she shrugs her shoulders. "I shot the August Harper's Bazaar cover two days ago!" She tells me with excitement and her eyes go momentarily back to a slight lucidity.
"That's great!" I compliment her. "I'm very happy for you!"
"Yeah, we should celebrate!" She grabs my hands and drags me toward the stairs of the apartment. Knowing her and by the look in her eyes I already can tell what she has in mind but I'm quick to stop her.
"Not tonight, Barb!" She stops and brings her confused eyes on me.
"Are you ok?" She asks with her eyebrows furrowed.
"I'm fine... you're just too drunk and I'm too tired," I leave a kiss on her forehead before freeing my hands from her hold and getting upstairs on my own, just to find some calm. My head is slightly turning around and I just need to be away from all the chaos.
The day after I wake up earlier than usual. Not too sure if it's because I haven't gotten completely wasted or if it's just a case. By 10AM I'm already up and I decide to use the morning to go to the gym to keep the mind busy. Once I've showered and gotten back home it's already lunchtime.
Without thinking about it too much I find myself driving toward Charlene's house with a very large advance. I'm not even sure she'll be there but everything seems better than staying on my own, today. Once I park my car, I knock on her door without getting an answer. She's not home... great.
Since my car is already parked I decide to sit down on the steps of her apartment and wait for her. Considering I've told her I would've come to pick her up at 3PM she'll eventually be back. It doesn't take too long before I see her walking toward me, at the end of the road, with a confused look on her face. Her first instinct is to check the hour on her phone, to make sure she's not late. She's wearing a pair of worn-out black converse, a denim shorts and a printed t-shirt, that seems very big on her, and she's holding a book to her chest.
"What are you doing here so early?" She asks me as first thing as soon as she's near enough.
"I woke up earlier so I was thinking about taking you to lunch," I shrug my shoulders. She looks at me with hesitation, probably not expecting a selfless act of kindness by me.
"Alright..." she murmurs, walking toward me to get into her apartment, probably to leave her stuff. She takes out her key and swiftly opens the door, getting inside. She leaves it open so I take a look inside, resting against the doorstep. It's a very small apartment, or better, room. There's a small white kitchen with a square table and a bed with a salmon blanket on the other side of the room and a small door that probably brings to the bathroom. She leaves her book on the bed and her backpack on the floor. She takes her wallet from it and puts it in a smaller red bag she takes with her.
"Nice place..." I say out of politeness. She shrugs her shoulders and closes the door behind her once she's done.
"It's very essential!" She just says, looking down on her feet as we walk to the car.
"It's what you need, nothing more... maybe I should've followed your example," I say, as soon as we get inside the car. She looks at me, trying to understand whatever I'm being serious or not. She probably wasn't expecting it. "I kind of regret buying such a big place..."
"Well, I'm sure you can afford a smaller one too!" She just says, shrugging her shoulders. Well, she's right... it shouldn't be too complicated.
"What do you study?" I ask her, genuinely curious. I might as well get to know her better. She looks a little hesitant before answering. For some reason, she doesn't want to tell me much about her.
"Psychology."
"Oh, that's cool..." I say, bringing my eyes on her. "You wanna be a psychologist?"
"I don't know... 'M not too sure," She shrugs her shoulders and keeps her eyes out of the window. She seems elusive every time we talk about her.
"Why did you decide to major in it then?" I decide to ask.
"Because I didn't get accepted in medicine, so..." she chuckles, bringing her eyes on me. "I went with my second alternative..." she just says, with an ironic smile on her lips. She doesn't smile often, so it's really nice to see.
"You wanted to be a doctor?" I ask her.
"I don't even know..." she chuckles. "I've never really had a clear idea about my future or what I wanted to do."
"I wouldn't say so... medicine, psychology... both stuff to help people, so maybe that's what you want to do, no matter how," I observe. She thinks about it for a second, before shrugging her shoulders.
"Maybe..." she lowers her stare. "I honestly just wanna be able to afford a roof on my head, nothing more than that," she bitterly smiles. "I have very modest expectations."
"I'm sure you'll do great in whatever you'll decide to do..."
"And you?" She looks up at me. "You've always known you wanted to be a photographer?"
"Yeah, always!" I say with certainty in my voice. "I was 8 when I asked Santa my first camera and since that moment I never really stopped taking pictures and now, here I am..." My lips automatically twist in a smile as I remember how it all started. I got pretty lucky in life. I've always believed in my passion and, not even once, I doubted it could turn into a work. I don't even know how all that passion went away once I succeeded in what I wanted for my whole life.
"Must be nice..." She observes with a smile on her lips. "Where are we going?" She then asks, bringing her eyes back on the road.
"A little out of town..." I say. "There's this very nice pathway where I used to go hiking and a nice little restaurant nearby," she nods her head in understanding. "They do a very good steak!"
"Oh, I don't eat meat... I should've told you!" She quickly says, bringing her alarmed eyes on me.
"They have other stuff too, don't worry... you don't have to eat the steak!" I chuckle, reassuring her.
"Great..." She relaxes again. "Is it ok how I'm dressed? I didn't even ask you..."
"It's fine... I just want the pictures of today to be very natural, so you can be dressed however you want," I smile at her and she nods her head again.
Her eyes move on the window again and she seems to get momentarily lost in her own head. She tends to do it often, at least when we're together. I wonder what goes through her mind. For some reason, she intrigues me. She's different from everyone else I've ever gotten to know here. She's a breath of fresh air, a familiar fresh air I had deeply missed.