The Perfect Pose (3/14)

Timothy slouched on Chloe’s couch, his head in his hands, the weight of another week without a job pressing down on him. The fridge was empty, the bills were piling up, and he was out of options. Chloe’s heels clicked sharply across the floor as she entered, phone in hand and a smirk on her face. “Still no luck, huh?” she asked, her tone as knowing as her expression. Timothy just groaned.

“Well, I have some good news and some... bad news,” she said, sitting beside him and tilting her head. “The good news is, I’ve got plenty of requests to shoot. Business is booming! The bad news?” She gave him a pointed look. “You can’t really fill those... at least, not as you are now.”

A chill shot up Timothy’s spine as he caught her tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked cautiously.

Chloe’s grin widened as she ran her fingers through his hair, her gaze sharp and appraising. “Most of my clients are asking for blonde models right now. That’s the bulk of the requests I’m getting, so...”

Timothy blinked, his stomach twisting. “So what, I need to wear a wig or something?”

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. “A wig would be too noticeable in the shots. You’d need to dye it if you want any more work.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Timothy shot back, practically leaping off the couch.

“Oh, come on! I’d pay you more for the trouble,” she coaxed, leaning forward.

Timothy froze. More money? His empty wallet felt strangely heavy in his pocket. He thought of the unpaid bills sitting on his kitchen counter, the near-empty pantry, and sighed. “Fine,” he muttered reluctantly, shooting her a glare.

Chloe didn’t even bother hiding her excitement as she dragged him to her car.

The trip to the salon was mortifying from the start. Chloe took charge the moment they walked in, chatting animatedly with the stylist while Timothy squirmed in the waiting area. “I want a soft, creamy blonde,” she instructed, holding up her phone to show a picture. “Oh, and could we give it a more feminine cut? Something layered and flowy.”

Timothy shot her a glare that could have melted steel. “A ‘feminine cut’? Are you kidding me?”

“It’ll suit the shoot’s aesthetic,” Chloe replied with a wink.

Before he could argue, the stylist waved him over to the chair. The process felt agonizingly slow. Timothy avoided the glances of the other customers as the stylist brushed on the dye and wrapped his head in foil. He stared at his reflection, watching his dignity evaporate with every passing minute.

As the dye set, Chloe piped up again, her tone far too casual. “Hey, while we’re here, could you do his nails too? It’ll save me time later.”

The stylist didn’t miss a beat. “Sure, we can do that.”

Timothy’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? No, that’s not—”

The stylists eagerly got to work, sharing amused glances as they decided to have a little fun of their own. Gel extensions were carefully applied and shaped into soft, feminine ovals, finished off with a glossy coat of pale pink polish.

Timothy stared at his hands in stunned silence as the final coat was applied, barely recognizing them as his own.

Back at the studio, Chloe wasted no time getting Timothy ready for the next shoot. She handed him a flowing white dress with delicate puffed sleeves, its soft fabric hugging his frame in a way that made him squirm. Once he reluctantly slipped it on, Chloe got to work on his hair, brushing out his newly dyed blonde locks until they cascaded in smooth, glossy waves. Gathering a small section from the top, she tied it back with a large, silky cream-colored bow that sat perfectly against the curls.

When she was done, she led him to a vintage vanity with a mirrored backdrop and positioned him in front of it. “Sit down,” she instructed, adjusting his posture with a light touch. “Now, reach up like you’re fixing the bow in your hair. Keep it delicate.”

Timothy hesitated but followed her directions, his fingers brushing against the ribbon. As he held the pose, he couldn’t help but glance at the mirror. The image staring back at him was impossible to reconcile. His girly curls looked so soft, bouncing with every slight movement, and his pink-polished nails added an almost dainty elegance to his hands. He barely recognized himself.

“Perfect!” Chloe exclaimed as she snapped photo after photo. “Now, tilt your head a bit... yes, that’s it! Gorgeous!”

Timothy tried to keep still, but his mind was racing. Each click of the camera was another reminder of how far things had gone. He stared at his reflection one more time, his stomach tightening. I need to find a new job. Fast. Before this gets even more out of hand.