Page 112 of As The Shifter World Turns
112
WHEN YOU’RE IN A HOLE, STOP DIGGING
Martin
“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” A man barked at me as my body slammed into his.
“Sorry,” I mumbled and kept walking down the street.
I was late for a shoot and the last thing I needed to do was engage in a confrontation. Pretty sure a broken nose wasn’t going to get me a paycheck. And he could’ve glanced my way too. It wasn’t only my fault.
Although from the looks of things when we collided, he was leaning against the building for a smoke break, so maybe it was all me.
It felt like everything was lately. No. That wasn’t right. Neil thought everything was my fault and somehow that manifested into me living in a by-the-week crappy motel that was similar to the scene of the opening murder in the forensic dramas that were all the rage.
I could afford more. I was making good money, but something stopped me from spending it all… that something being Toby. It felt wrong being away from him, but I couldn’t take care of him the way I needed to with this job. My hours were unpredictable and often ran late into the night. And it wasn’t just the shoots. Those were only a part of the job. I needed to be seen. It was what it was.
Neil was a better father for him right now, and I hated that. My mate had found success in an industry that was far from mainstream. Neil had created a niche and a company where friends and colleagues could work safely under his umbrella. Sure, he didn’t earn what I was at the moment, but his income was pretty steady. That wasn’t the case with mine. It could all end tomorrow .
Five minutes later I was walking into an old church. I had no idea why anyone thought the three-hundred-year stone building was good for high fashion, but they did and here I was to do my best to prove them right. This was so far from a catalog shoot, they barely seemed part of the same industry.
“May we help you?” Some snooty guy with a clip board asked as I walked through the door.
I wanted to bite back, asking him if he knew who he was talking to, but given the way he was currently eyeing me up and down, I had a feeling that wouldn’t end well. Instead I said, “I’m Martin and I’m here for the shoot.”
He took a step back and raked his eyes over me again. “Lucky for us Gus is working today.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Come with me.”
He turned on his heel and started to walk through the dark narthex, or vestibule. The place was creepy, like it hadn’t been used in a hundred years kind of creepy and had it not been for the sign out front announcing Sunday service, I’d have thought just that. We ended up in what looked like a Sunday School classroom where make-up was set up.
“Gus… work a miracle or something.” And just like that he flitted out of there.
“Don’t listen to Kaleb. He’s just Kaleb.” The man called Gus patted a seat for me.
“Kaleb… Kaleb Kyle?” He was one of the biggest up and coming designers from what I’d heard and he was here… this was his shoot? I got in the seat quickly wishing I had dressed more the part for our first impression.
“They didn’t tell you who the shoot was for?” Gus held up one pallet and then another next to my face.
“No. He just told me the location followed by a ‘You’re welcome.’” Which in hindsight I completely misinterpreted as it being a shitty gig.
“This is your make or break…”
“Martin.”
“This is your make or break Martin. Let me give you some hints about working with Kaleb.” He grabbed a cloth and wiped down my face as he began a forty-five minute one-sided conversation about all the things I needed to do or more importantly not do when working with Kaleb. Most of it was normal shoot stuff, but a few of the points were helpful.
I felt confident when I walked into wardrobe and ready to conquer the modeling world when I returned to the church. This time there was better lighting, although I quickly realized that the creepy vibe of the place was exactly what he was going for. The theme of the layout he was doing was Halloween Glamour even though we were many months away from the holiday.
It was less about costumes, although my clothing felt retro more than a current runway fad, and all about the expressions and posturing. The final shoot wouldn’t resemble a church at all, according to where I was standing and how. They just wanted the old stone work and the mausoleum that housed the first clergy.
Would this end up being epic or weird? I had no idea. I didn’t even care as long as when all was said and done, Kaleb sent some good words around and I was able to get more gigs.
“I think we got it,” the photographer, Stu, said, bringing the camera to Kaleb to look through the frames. He did that after each pose/location. The first time I thought I was already done for the day. But no, it was just the beginning.
“You’re magnificent.” He handed the camera back. “Remind me, why do I not have you for all of my shoots?”
“Because I hate to eat where I shit.” Stu bit Kaleb’s bottom lip. “And I’d much rather work for a department store catalog shoot than be in bed without you.”
I looked down, feigning that I hadn’t heard a thing. There was something too personal about it. Or maybe it was me just missing being in bed with my mate—my Neil.
And it wasn’t even the sex part, although I missed that part of things as well, it was having someone to talk to about work and the past and the future, someone to share all aspects of my life with.
And then there was Toby. I missed him so much it hurt. I needed to figure out a way to make this work—to make this better, but it wasn’t all me who needed to be fixing things. Neil had his own part in this. Why couldn’t he just be happy for me?
“We’re done,” Kaleb announced and everyone clapped so I joined in as well. “See you all at Randolf’s in an hour.”
“Randolf’s?” I asked Stu.
“Yeah, over on third and Grand.” I gave a nod, pretending I understood what he meant and went back to wardrobe to get my own clothing and then to see if Gus was still around and could help me get my lashes off without tearing off my natural ones. I’d never worn feathers for eyelashes before and was not a fan, but if they made the photos pop and got me noticed, I’d gladly make them my signature look.
“You going to Randolf’s?” I asked him as I sat in the chair again. I’d done a quick internet search to discover it was just a bar with quote ‘fusion flair’, whatever that meant.
“It’s not really optional. But you’ll have fun. Now let’s see if we can get these off.” His lack of confidence had me crossing my fingers as he did his magic. They came off beautifully. Everything did and I was looking like me quickly enough. I started to get up and he put a hand on my shoulder. “Let me fix your face, you’ll thank me.”
I leaned back as he made me up, the look very non-make-up with the exception of my eyeliner which was heavy and pronounced and the highlighter, that had me shining, had an almost disco ball feel to it .
I understood why he chose the look that he did as I stepped into Randolf’s. This was not the kind of place I’d ever have just walked into before or if I had, I’d quickly changed my mind. It was industrial and trendy, but with a bit of an old school pub feel in random pockets… almost as if they put the new bar over an old one but forgot a few areas. I went to the bar to grab a drink and was completely ignored.
“You have a better chance in the wooden booths.” Gus whispered in my ear. “There’s like a… I don’t know… a set of secret rules or something.”
He grabbed me by the arm and led me to an old carved booth in the corner. It wasn’t until then that I even thought he might be flirting with me, but as I slid into the booth, his hand guiding me from its new perch on my lower back, I very much did.
Shit. This was not good.
“Do you watch?” He pointed to a television on the wall, and on it was a soccer game.
The soccer game I promised I’d watch with Toby.
“You okay?” Gus’s hand cupped my cheek. “Martin, are you okay?”
“What? No. No I’m not. I need to go. Cover me?”
“Yeah. Okay,” he said after a moment of hesitation.
I snuck out, or at least I hoped it was sneaking and took out my phone, calling Toby.
“Hey, Dad.” He answered on the first ring.
“Sorry, I’m late. I’m heading over now.” I didn’t want to lie to him, but saying I forgot sounded pretty shitty too and I opted with fewer details.
When had I become such a craptastic father?
“It’s fine Dad. TD and I are watching it.” It didn’t sound fine. “Gotta go. Love you.” And just like that he hung up. I didn’t blame him. I deserved it.
And I deserved what happened next when Neil called and lit into me. He should be mad. Shit, I was mad at me, too. If only I was strong enough to tell him that.