The Perfect Pose (2/14)

Timothy stared blankly at his computer screen, frustration bubbling under his skin. Three months of non-stop job applications, and not a single interview. His inbox was a graveyard of rejections, and his savings were rapidly disappearing. The fridge was nearly empty, the bills were piling up, and the hopelessness was becoming harder to ignore.

That’s when the memory of Chloe and the photoshoot crept into his mind. A few hours of awkward posing had been enough to make some quick money last time. It was humiliating, sure, but right now, the idea of extra cash felt like a lifeline. He rubbed his temples, groaning to himself. “I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this…”

But desperation won. With a resigned sigh, he grabbed his phone and called Chloe.

“Timmy!” she answered on the second ring, her cheerful voice making him cringe. “What’s up?”

“Hey, uh… I was wondering if you still need a model? For photos, where, you know… my face doesn’t show?”

There was a pause, and he could practically hear the excitement bubbling on her end. “Yes! Oh my gosh, yes! I have so many projects I could use you for. Get over here as soon as you can!”

Her enthusiasm didn’t make him feel better. If anything, it made him more nervous. But what choice did he have? He muttered a reluctant “Okay” and hung up, already regretting his decision.

When he arrived at Chloe’s studio, she didn’t waste a second, practically dragging him inside. “Alright, first things first—go shave. You know the drill.”

Timothy sighed and did as he was told, stepping into the bathroom and quickly shaving his legs. When he returned, Chloe grabbed his hands and frowned. “Your hands will be in a few shots,” she said. “We need to tidy them up.”

Before he could respond, she filed and buffed his nails with quick precision. Then she grabbed a bottle of polish.

“Wait, how is this just tidying up?” he asked, staring at the blush-pink color as she painted it onto his nails.

“Relax, it’s subtle,” she replied, brushing on the glossy coat.

When she was done, his hands looked smooth, shiny, and far too feminine. He flexed his fingers, groaning internally.

“There. Perfect. Now let’s get you dressed,” Chloe said, already moving on.

Over the next few hours, Timothy found himself slipping into outfit after outfit: sundresses, skirts, and blouses that made his stomach churn every time he caught his reflection. Chloe was all business, snapping pictures and tweaking poses, while he tried to ignore how natural she made him look in every shot.

Finally, she handed him the last outfit: denim shorts, an off-shoulder white top, and sneakers. Timothy felt a wave of relief. Feminine, sure, but at least it wasn’t another dress or heels. He pulled it on and stepped out, tugging awkwardly at the loose neckline.

“Looks great!” Chloe said, adjusting the top so it hung just right. “This one’s for a client who wants a street-style vibe, so we’ll need to go outside for the final shot.”

Timothy froze. “Outside? Are you serious?”

“It’s a quiet street,” she said, brushing him off. “No one will notice you. Just keep your head down. Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

His heart sank, but he followed her outside, his nerves spiking with every step. The sunlight felt too bright, and every sound seemed magnified as he perched on a low brick wall. Chloe handed him a coffee cup and started snapping away, her directions flowing effortlessly.

“Cross your legs a little more. Perfect. Now turn your head slightly. Great—hold the cup like you’re about to sip. Relax your shoulders!”

Timothy obeyed, his stomach in knots. A couple walked by with their dog, glancing his way, and he quickly ducked his head, praying they wouldn’t look twice. The humiliation burned his cheeks as Chloe repositioned him, tilting his legs at an angle that felt absurdly dainty.

“Almost done!” she chirped, snapping a few more shots before finally lowering the camera. “And… that’s a wrap!”

Timothy bolted back inside the studio, his heart racing as he tore off the top and inspected his reflection. The blush-pink nails, the styled hair, the way the shorts hugged his legs—it all felt too much.

Chloe just laughed as she watched him. “You’re getting good at this.”

“Just give me my check,” he muttered, avoiding her knowing smile. As he left, he swore to himself this would be the last time.