Tragic

He watches me for a few more moments, then throws up his hands. "Go see Elise for make-up, then come back here and get changed."

Elise is shaking a thin white robe at me as I enter the salon, I grab it, go behind the partitioned wall to change, and come out wrapped up and ready.

"Shampoo," Elise says, pointing to the chair. I lie back and she turns the water on and begins, talking as she goes through the motions. "So, Spencer is nice, huh?"

I sigh. "I'm not interested in Spencer, Elise. Just his contract."

"Then tell me what happened. Ronin likes you, two days ago you liked him… how did you get to this place right now? It makes no sense."

She turns the water off and begins the shampoo. This time she is gentle, like the first time I showed up here. That was a week ago. One week, and this is what happens to my life. "I just don't think Ronin is the guy for me, that's all. I don't really feel like discussing it."

"And?" she prods, her fingers massaging the back of my head. "You have trust issues, right?"

I snort. "Elise, don't pretend you know me, because you don't."

"Well, I know Ronin found you huddled in the hallway like Clare was gonna kill you or something—" I bristle at the name and Elise senses this and stops talking for a second, then resumes her psychoanalysis. "And Ronin did manage to land you on your ass twice now out of jealousy, so I can see why you'd be pissed at him about that. And I know you were homeless when you ended up here, you admitted that to Ronin. And I know you've been hurt. So actually, Rook, while I might not know all the details, I think I know you better than you think." The water comes on again, saving me from responding, and I lie still as she rinses my hair. When she's done she squeezes the excess water out and applies the conditioner. "Today will not be pleasant, so just be prepared. I know you were unhappy yesterday with Billy, so at least it will be Ronin today, but it's going to be hard for you."

"Well, I'll get over it, Elise. Don't worry, I always do. By the time I have my life back on track and your door is hitting me in the ass, I'm sure exposing myself to cameras will seem second nature."

"But it doesn't have to be, Rook. That's what I'm saying. Ronin likes you a lot, just go with it. Why do that STURGIS contract? I can get you out of it, Spencer will be mad, but he won't make you—"

"Don't you dare try and talk him out of it! I will be so pissed!" Jesus! These people have some nerve! "I want that job, dammit! How many ways do I have to say it?"

She sighs heavily and rinses my hair out for the final time, plops a towel on it and sits me up. I get up and take a seat in her stylist chair so she can blow my hair out.

It's a long morning that bounces between uncomfortable silences and short curt responses and by the time Elise is finished with me, my musing about being made into a meth fiend is not far off when I look at myself in the mirror.

And that mirror is speaking to me.

It says, Rook Walsh, you really are TRAGIC.

Tragically stupid for agreeing to all of this stuff in the first place.

Chapter Thirty-Eight - ROOK

Back in the dressing room I realize today's fun has only just begun. Ronin is nowhere to be seen, so I grab my bag and head over to the privacy stalls. Most of the girls are out in the studio by now, but I'm not interested in seeing anyone so the privacy stall it is. Inside the bag is the pink dress I wore for the very first shoot with Ronin. Well, maybe not the exact same dress, but at the very least, it started out looking just like it.

It's just that it looks nothing like that dress now.

Because the previously knee-length hem now falls just below my crotch and has a torn jagged edge. To my utmost delight the entire bust has also been modified, if you can call it that, because it's been cut out and replaced with black lace. Mix that all together with my tweaker make-up, some knee-high white stockings and black Mary Janes, and you've got Skanky Gidget Goes to Porn School.

My thong underwear barely qualifies as a postage stamp and since the bra is non-existent, it's just my ni**les peeking through that, cough, amazing black lace.

Gross.

I turn around to look at my ass in the mirror, tug on the dress a little, and realize hoping for coverage is a lost cause.

"Well"—I spin around and find Ronin looking over the stall door—"I have to say, Gidge, I've seen you look better."

He opens the stall door for me and I scoot out and walk down the hall to the dressing room, then turn and give him a look-over. He's got different clothes on this time too—a pair of faded jeans, a white t-shirt, and black biker jacket. So he just gets to look like a hot greaser right out of The Outsiders. He's Matt Dillon as Dally and I'm still Skanky Gidget Goes to Porn School.

When I meet his gaze the sad expression on his face makes me feel shame.

But I'm a trooper, so I rally and paint on a smile. "Just tell me what to do so this day can be over and I can get paid."

"So that's all this is to you, a paycheck? That's all I was to you the other night? A paycheck?"

"I'm not talking about this, Ronin." I push past him and walk back out to the studio. Antoine, Elise, and a bunch of technicians are all waiting around for me. I catch Elise wince as she takes in my new look, but I ignore her and tip up my chin.

Ronin and Antoine are talking in French, not quite arguing, but not being amicable either.

Elise comes and takes me by the elbow, leading me over to the terrace. "Back under the cherry tree for you," she says as we walk outside. There are a lot fewer flowers on the branches now, most of the blossoms are on the ground, withered and wet from the recent rain. Elise lets go of me when we get to the swing and motions for me to take a seat. The technicians are already messing with the lights and those umbrella things, and then Ronin, Antoine, and the other photographers come out. I guess we wouldn't want to miss a single angle of my ass-crack, so yeah, why not get every single photographer we can, right?