An email reached me, one that made it feel all the more surreal. It was of the cosmetics company’s marketing team, sending me the photos they had chosen from my last shoot. To let me know which ones they had picked, I supposed, and to advise me to add them to my portfolio for next time. 

“Next time …” I whispered to myself, blushing from ear to ear when I opened the photos, and got to see myself in a completely different, beautiful light. 

Is that really me? I wondered. I had never realized I could glow that much, had never realized my eyes could be so golden, and even my colored, strawberry-blond hair shone beautifully against the plain background. The product I had advertised shimmered on my skin, and even my skin looked so immaculate, with barely a single imperfection to be found on it. 

The longer I stared, the less I could believe that was me. “A portfolio? Can I really keep doing this?” 

Suddenly, I remembered one of Amelia’s friends I had met recently, who studied photography and always looked for motives. “Should I ask her to take some photos of me? To add to my portfolio? But that’s so … embarrassing.” 

I gulped, unsure of how to proceed. All this made me so nervous, and realizing this photos of me would be all over the drugstores I bought my own products at, wondering whether I’d get to see them myself when I went shopping the next time … It’s just surreal! 

Just because of Thomas, I’d even gotten this opportunity. Was it even alright to feel happy about it? On a whim, he could decide to pull me out and tell his companies to stop accepting me for jobs. If I started relying on these side gigs at all, if they even took off, and I somehow disappointed Thomas, he could easily ruin me — that’s how far above he was. He had all the power, and all the authority.

Did he expect me to sleep with him, even if it was just once, to let me keep accepting these modeling gigs? But then again, he had said he didn’t mix business with pleasure.

“Ugh … I really don’t know! This feels so wrong,” I pouted, deciding to drop onto my mattress and hide my face. “Can I be thankful, or should I be wary? Maybe … I should send out some more job applications for some normal jobs. Package delivery, maybe, they always need some people … A warehouse, maybe?” 

Kicking my feet against the mattress in desperation, I sighed, and glared at the pictures on my laptop from afar, heart racing just thinking about it all. 

“Is it okay … to be just a little bit excited?” Nothing ever worked out for me, but for once, I really, really … wanted it to. Seeing my photos, and remembering all the compliments I’d gotten back at the shoot, and how excited they had been to work with me … I had felt amazing, and happy, and careless for once. Something had come off my shoulders, something that kept them tight and hurting, something confusing that always ached my body. 

A knock at my door robbed me of my thoughts, and it confused me, of course, because I didn’t expect anyone. No packages, no nothing, really. So, I tried ignoring it, thinking someone had knocked at the wrong door, but when it knocked once more, a bit louder, and then a third time following a voice, I gulped and turned pale. 

“Felix? Open up. I know you’re home.” 

Why … Coming to my place like this, why?

I only wore my little pajama set, a simple shirt and some cute shorts I had thrown on, when I walked across my little apartment on my tiptoes, the entrance only about three or four long steps away from the mattress I had just laid on. 

Peeking through the peephole, it was, of course, Vincent. He carried a little plastic bag in his hand, soda cups with straws in the other. Shifting his weight back and forth, he was just about to knock again when I opened the door a slit wide to look at him. 

With his brown eyes lighting up, he smiled at me, but his gaze totally wondered up and down my exposed legs and body. “Hey,” was all he said. “I brought food. Let’s eat.” 

Those were sure to be hamburgers and fries. I recognized the brand, after all. When was the last time Vince had cared about me eating? When was the last time we’d even shared a meal together? Wasn’t it a waste of time for him?

But I was hungry, of course, I was. I hadn’t cooked anything yet, only ate a simple breakfast and even simpler dinner to save on money, so … just smelling those burgers and fries, and gazing at the sodas he’d brought along with them, tempted me. Even though he’d shown up at my house unannounced like this, and deep down, I knew I shouldn't, I let him come in.

He kicked off his shoes, which carelessly flung across the floor, and as I dropped to sit down on my mattress, as there was no dining table, Vince stared at my desk, first, eyes squinting right away.

“What’s this?” He approached, glaring at the photos I still had open there on my laptop. “That’s you? When did you take photos like that?”

“Um … a few weeks ago,” I gulped. “I went to a casting…”

“And they chose you?”

Why do you sound so surprised? “Y-Yeah.” 

“Huh.” Vince cocked his head to the side as he stared at my laptop, and then he turned to face me and came to sit beside me. “You look pretty in the pictures. What’s that about?”

Pretty … ? My heart fluttered, even though it was such a basic compliment. In the pictures, I looked pretty? What about now? Why are you even here? I remembered all the words Thomas used to describe me whenever he complimented me, so uncalled for, always, at that.

Breathtaking.

Stunning.

Gorgeous. 

Adorable …

And now, I was pretty. And only because it was Vince’s voice that said it, something inside my heart wavered once again. 

I’m so weak, aren’t I? Maybe Vince is right, and all I am is a whore for attention? A single compliment, such a rare occasion, and I’d fallen for him all over again. 

“Why are you here, Vince…?” I whispered, sipping at the soda he’d brought me and pushed into my hands, not allowing me to refuse. 

“You were always happy when I came by.”

“But now…” I gulped.

“I’m sorry about the thing with Amelia. How many more times do I need to apologize?”

“Did you apologize to her, too?” 

“Uh … well, she won’t really talk to me since. But I know it’s not your fault, okay?” 

She won’t talk to you, and you respect her decision. And what about me? I am uncomfortable, and you don’t care?

Pushing himself onto me until I gave in, was that truly because he liked me? Because he was desperate for my attention for once? I felt skeptical about it all, even as we ate in absolute silence. We had nothing to talk about, and instead, stuffed our faces with big bites of hamburgers and a handful of fries. 

But Vince’s gaze would fall back to my laptop again and again. “So, you’re trying to be a model now, or what?” A chuckle crept out of him. Is it that ridiculous to you?

“It just kind of happened,” I mumbled. “I don’t know yet.” 

“I’m just wondering how you got that opportunity,” Vince said, looking over at me and observing my face. I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth. If he learned that Thomas, the guy who’d stopped him from taking me home, was the guy who’d helped me with this job, what would he say?

Vince would make all kinds of assumptions about me, wouldn’t he? About what kind of deal had happened between Thomas and I. 

Even I realized it looked bad from the outside, and I didn’t want to be accused of anything dirty like that. Whether I gave him my body for that job, or anything like that … My heart would break if Vince said something like that about me. 

“I just saw the casting, and went. It was on a whim,” I whispered, instead. “I didn’t think they’d pick me, either.” 

“Huh.” Vince scoffed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling he thought it silly to be modeling like that. Was it truly that ridiculous a thought for me to do it? 

Even though he’d said I was pretty, I somehow didn’t believe it at all. 

Not until he turned towards me after we’d eaten, and he allowed his fingers to slither up my arm. He attempted to caress me, but when I compared it to Thomas’ gentle, polite touches, it felt entirely different, and honestly, it made my skin crawl.

When had I ever thought Vince’s touch was repulsive? All the sudden, it was. 

But he did keep the eye contact up, with intense brown eyes I used to love. 

“Can’t we go back to how we were before?” Vince whispered, and I didn’t respond at first. “If I ever get a girlfriend again, I’ll let you know beforehand, okay? I’ll ask if you’re fine with it.”

“If I’m fine with it?” Now, I was the one that scoffed, because I had no idea what he meant by that. “Vince, I don’t get what you want from me at all. I was always honest with you…”

“I know, I know, and I appreciate that! And honestly, I’ve always enjoyed it when we’re together.”

But you hurt me. Mentally, and physically. You don't value me ... 

“So, do you want to be with me?” I asked. “Are you in love with me? Do you like me?” 

I could visibly see him gulp, and now, he did look away. “I mean … maybe? I like you, but is it love? I could probably figure it out real soon if we … keep going.”

“Like before,” I sighed. “You said the same thing last time. You only come to me for sex.”

Leaning into me, Vince’s breath stuttered. “I’ll be better, I promise,” he whispered against my lips. “Look, today … we had dinner, and we’re talking. You like that, don’t you?”

The more he leaned towards me, the more I arched my back away from him, but in the end, my fleeing only resulted in me falling onto my mattress, and Vince following as if he saw it as an invitation. 

Laying over me, he allowed his fingers to slip underneath my pajama shirt, caress me up and down. 

“I really missed you, Felix,” he whispered, but I didn’t like the way he said my name at all.

But this is what I’d always wanted, wasn’t it? His undivided attention, his honesty, his eyes looking at me like that. 

After all, I was in love with him. 

So I let him kiss me, and I let him slip my top off of me, my little shorts to follow. At first, my heart did race. A slight excitement came over me, tickled my skin, and flushed it hot, because he’d never paid that much attention to me.

I hoped for foreplay. Maybe he’d worry about how it felt for me, now that he admitted he liked me? Maybe he’d touch me in ways he’d never done before so it would feel all the better for me?

But then, as he sucked on my neck in desperation, he turned me around like he always did, slipped into me with only his spit to soothe the pain, and I hated every second of it, while he loved it from beginning to end.

I felt terrible, and guilty, and disgusting, because I knew I should have said no, and if not for my sake, at least for Amelia's.