I glanced briefly to my new subject and waited for his opinion. All I got from him was a short nod and stiff posture. I didn't say anything else, happy he at least agreed to strip down for this shoot.
While Shari got him ready-technically, undressed-and oiled him up, I pulled out my phone to send an email.
Nolan,
You are the most vile human being on this planet.
I didn't even bother signing it. I quickly sent the message before my anger got the best of me and caused me to spout off things I couldn't take back. There were many other choice words I wanted to use on him, but figured it could wait until I completed all four sessions. Then I would unleash the full extent of my hatred for him-on him.
Jacob stood silently in front of the brick wall next to the etched-glass window of my studio. I turned the lights down low, only relying on the slight sunlight from outside and the lighting umbrellas. The Olympic bar leveled against his shoulders with his one hand steadying it. Two faux weight plates were stacked on each side, yet it seemed as though he could have lifted real ones effortlessly.
Hard, defined muscles were accentuated by black and grey tattoos along his left arm and upper portion of his chest. Based on how the ink disappeared beneath the heavy scarring, I assumed he'd once had the same art decorating his missing right arm. The oil Shari had rubbed on him made everything stand out brilliantly, catching the attention of the light and camera every time the shutter closed.
After fifteen minutes and various poses, our session ended. I probably didn't even need to take as many as I had, since his body appeared to have been created for photography, but I wanted to make sure I had enough. He didn't talk throughout the entire shoot, nor after he pulled his clothes back on. He did, however, give me his phone number so I could contact him once I had the final proofs ready.
"God, I was praying to the heavens you would've asked me to pose with him," Shari said with a sigh once Jacob left the studio. "He was one gorgeous chunk of man-meat."
My laugh quickly died on my lips as the growing fire of hatred licked its way up my body. "Yeah, and the asshole, Nolan, sent him to me because he thinks he's hideous. I wonder what Nolan looks like now. I bet he's nothing to glance twice at. He probably peaked in high school like all the other jocks and now hates anyone considered to be attractive. I bet he's six hundred pounds and smells like week-old Chinese food." Knowing how good looking he was as a teenager, I highly doubted he'd regressed that much, but it didn't hurt to hope.
"What did you ever see in him back then?" she asked, cleaning up the studio while I packed away the equipment.
"Same thing you did. Same thing every other girl in school did."
Shari came to me and held my shoulders until I looked right at her. "I'm sorry I forced you into this, but I have a feeling you'll get your justice and move on with your integrity firmly intact. Which is more than I can say for him. Something tells me this right here, these pictures you're taking, this photo shoot he's challenged you with will finally release the hatred you've carried around all these years."
"You are unbelievably optimistic, and it's why I love you so much. But let's be real here-I don't think anything will ever make the animosity I live with go away. I'm bound to carry it around with me for the rest of my life. He didn't simply kiss and tell, Share. He violated me. I have grown up and moved on, but the humiliation will never go away. I'd say the only way justice will be served is if he's suffered twice as much … and with who his father is, I highly doubt he has."
Her arms wrapped around me and squeezed my shoulders tightly. I didn't need the affection, but it was nice coming from her. After all, she'd been the one who stuck by me when everyone else had jumped on the bandwagon of gossiping behind my back.
"I'm serious. He didn't damage me or ruin me. Look at what I've accomplished in my life. I get to do what I love every single day. I honestly don't think I would have ever stuck with this profession had everything not happened the way it did. I became determined not to let it get to me, and I love my life every fucking day."
A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her lips, yet it was small and looked full of empathy.
"Enough." I laughed and waved my hands in front of my face, not wanting to continue this depressing conversation. We'd more than tired it out over the last fifteen years. "I'm ready to go. I need food, a shower, and sleep."
We locked up the studio and each headed in our own direction after making plans to meet back up there in the morning for round two of Nolan's challenge.
The text alert on my phone woke me. I checked the time and realized it was only ten at night. Yet with how tired I was, it seemed closer to three in the morning. I'd been so exhausted, I passed out as soon as I got home.
Unknown Number: So you think they're ugly?
I rubbed my eyes, trying to decode the message. Not understanding what it meant in my sleepy state, I replied.
Me: What do you mean?
I waited and waited, almost drifting back to sleep before my phone buzzed again in my lap, startling me awake once more.
Unknown Number: The models from today. You said I was vile. Does that mean you think they're ugly? Can't find anything worth taking a picture of beyond all the imperfections?
My breaths turned labored and my face flamed with heat as my fingers rapidly typed out my reply.
Me: No … you're the hideous one. They are exemplary examples of what should be considered gorgeous.
I quickly set his number in my contacts.
Asshole: They're mangled and disfigured.
His ignorance didn't even warrant a response, so I returned my phone to my nightstand and tried to fall back asleep. Surprisingly enough, he didn't bother to send another text. And I knew this because I tossed and turned for over two hours before my brain finally decided to shut off and allow me to get some sleep.
Three
The following morning came too soon, but I jumped from my bed with an eagerness I hadn't experienced in a long time. I couldn't wait to start my day, not only because I wanted to be done with Nolan once and for all, but also because my interest had been piqued. I couldn't wait to see who Nolan would send to me this time around.
I arrived at the studio before Shari and began my work on editing the photos I'd taken the day before. Much like with Jennifer's images, Jacob's didn't require many changes. His radiance and expressiveness jumped from the screen. They were gritty and raw, emotionally powerful, and they had me pondering a change from boudoir to the beautifully wounded. Although, I wouldn't bet I'd have too many people knocking down my door to capture their self-proclaimed imperfections.
Society has completely blinded people with their fabricated depictions of what it truly means to be attractive. Real people weren't airbrushed.
Shari walked over to me and set her purse down next to my desk. "There's a man outside, and I think he's our next client."
I turned my attention from my computer to her, and tilted my head to the side in a show of confusion. "Is he in the waiting room? I didn't even hear the chime." I started to stand but her hand on my shoulder halted my movements.
"No … he's outside."
"Then what makes you think he's my next client?"
Something about her creased brow caused my insides to twist into knots. Her eyes avoided mine and her bottom lip quivered. I didn't wait for her response before flying through the studio to the front door.
Outside, on the walkway between my door and the parking lot, stood a kid who couldn't have been older than twenty. The first thing to catch my eye was how his dark, greasy hair touched his shoulders, which brought my attention to his unkempt beard. His slight frame made him appear as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.
It was only yesterday Shari had questioned the possibility of Nolan sending me a homeless man. I thought I'd be prepared for it, but nothing could've readied me for the sight of the boy in front of me.
His clothes, which appeared to not have been washed in months, hung from the rack which was his body, and his shoes had holes in the toes. But his skin … his skin appeared to be clean, as if he washed his body and then put back on his soiled clothes.
For a brief moment, I questioned if I'd been set up by Nolan. I wouldn't have put it past him to pay a kid to appear homeless. But my suspicion quickly vanished the second a car horn blared from the street in front of my studio. He jumped back and shook in fear.
I cautiously walked toward him, being cognizant of my movements so I wouldn't frighten him. "Hi, my name is Novah. Are you here to have some pictures taken?"
The boy looked at me with timid, dark-green eyes, and nodded. He didn't bother to give me his name or any other response, so I took a step back and held the door open. I expelled a sigh of relief as he walked inside.