Kemora Archives

SERENA

“Niall, cool it!” I holler at my favorite heartthrob for the third time today. He’s been getting a little too close for comfort with the models, and now he’s locking lips with one of them.

Not that the girls are complaining.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“He’s in heat,” a junior assistant calls out from behind a light reflector, and the room fills with laughter.

Niall flips him the bird, then turns his million-dollar grin my way. “Just feeling a little antsy.”

“And looking a little rough.” I shoot a glare at his shirt, which is torn instead of neatly unbuttoned. “Just because we’re doing a vampire theme doesn’t mean you have to go all Fifty Shades on us.”

“But isn’t that exactly what it should mean?” He leans back against the backdrop, causing the women to swoon. He flashes me another grin and winks. “Get me another shirt. I promise I’ll behave.”

Niall is usually a pro and not this wild, which is why he’s one of my favorite models to work with.

Even though I don’t get to pick the models for the brand shoots, I do have my favorites, and I’m not shy about sharing my preferences if asked.

I signal for the stylist to handle Niall while I focus on the girls. We have to get enough shots of them in a variety of outfits that, honestly, make no sense to me.

But then again, Patrick Price has never made sense to me.

He’s a big shot in the world of men’s fashion and fragrances, and he likes his ads to feature barely dressed models.

Niall has been his brand ambassador for a year now, and his chiseled body is a big selling point for the brand. I don’t understand why Patrick even needs female models for his campaigns.

“Do you think he snorted something before he got here?” Kivon lifts his head from a stack of papers he’s been reading and frowns.

His blond hair falls into his ocean-blue eyes, and he looks just as annoyed as he did on our first day of college.

I shrug to show I have no idea, and I gather the girls in front of the camera.

“Perfect, Lily. Hold that pose,” I encourage while adjusting my lens. “Mina, move a little to the left. Perfect! Violet, right? Yes, lean back. That’s just right.”

I snap a few more shots before calling a ten-minute break. The models need to switch from glammed-up to just-rolled-out-of-bed sexy.

A little less makeup and some tousled hair should do the trick. These girls know how to work the camera, unlike some of the models I’ve had to deal with this past week.

Those shoots were a total disaster, making me want to rip my hair out.

I even had to demonstrate how to walk on a runway for one of them because she kept tripping over her heels, which completely threw off my session on fluid movements.

Our studio isn’t big in terms of space, but we have a big reputation, so we’re always busy.

Em Studios has a lot of dedicated long-term employees, and this quaint, cottage-like building caters to both celebrities and everyday people—if they can afford it.

I give Kivon a grateful smile as he hands me my hourly cup of tea. He knows to keep them coming and to never mix up tea with coffee, or I’ll turn into a zombie and eat his heart out.

“I’m so glad we got these girls,” he sighs, holding his cigarette between his fingers.

“Hey…” I wave my hand in front of my face and pretend to cough. “You’re giving me cancer.”

He takes a deep drag and blows a huge smoke ring in my face, causing me to actually cough.

I place my hand on his chest and gently push him away, but it doesn’t wipe the smirk off his face.

“Kivon, no smoking in here,” Emily, the Em in Em Studios, strolls in to check on our progress.

He shrugs and gives her the same grin he gave me. He’s not being sly or flirty. That’s just how his face is. It’s surprising that he’s in fashion but not a model.

He could at least land a skincare endorsement, if you ask me.

“Don’t kill the vibe, Boss Lady.” He winks at Emily but puts out his cigarette anyway.

He’s been trying to quit for the past year but won’t consider any alternatives that don’t involve a real cigarette.

“Are we done here?” Emily turns to me and asks.

“Not even close,” I groan. “I just need one more set from Niall today, then I’ll call it a day. We can finish up tomorrow. He’s just not in the zone today.”

“It happens.” Emily shakes her head. “These poor things have such hectic schedules. I think he needs a break.”

“Tell that to Patrick,” Kivon snorts.

“He just got back from Aruba. He’s fine.” I call out to the stylist to see if Niall is ready, and before she can answer, he’s strutting toward the spotlight. “Please be gentle with this shirt. It’s our last one.”

He’s wearing a plain white button-down with all the buttons undone over a pair of snug Patrick Price jeans.

The vampire theme was mentioned in the brief, but I’m not going for the whole gore angle. I just want smoky eyes with dark liner and lots of sensual shots.

But not what Niall is doing.

“Crank up the music!” Niall yells to the new intern from Svelte magazine. They have a yearly contract with Patrick’s label to showcase all his collections.

Someone always comes to the shoots to make sure everything runs smoothly, according to the magazine’s standards, and to cater to Niall’s every whim while his own PA lounges in my office sipping fresh juice.

The nervous intern, scared of upsetting the temperamental model and losing her job, has the sense to look at me for approval. I shake my head to tell her no.

The room is already pulsing with lyrics about “sexy this” and “shake that” and the degree to which hips should be moving. I think a little Enigma would be a nice change of pace.

“Take a deep breath.” I demonstrate by inhaling deeply. “I’ll give you a minute to get into the right headspace. Sound good, Niall?” I tilt my head at him in question, and he gives a nod in response.

His hair looks a bit parched, so I snag a spray bottle from the makeup station and mist it over his cowlick, pulling at a few strands to give it a tousled look.

Then I spritz it over his face and upper body. Thanks to the magic of waterproof makeup, nothing runs down his cheeks.

“You could be a model.” His hazel eyes always have this heated glaze that makes many a stomach do flips. The dark eyeliner only serves to make them even more captivating.

“Niall…” I grip the hem of his shirt and speak in the tone one might use with a kindergartner. “Give me some good shots and I promise I’ll talk to Patrick about giving you a month off.”

He chuckles. “I’d be broke in a week.”

“Paid leave.” I hold his gaze to show him I’m serious. “You could go visit your grandmother. No paparazzi. Just a simple country vacation.” I lower my voice. “You could see Kat.”

His expression shifts from sexy, brooding vampire to a puddle of emotions. “I’d give you any shot you want for that. But she won’t talk to me.”

“Not when you’re making out with just anyone, Niall. Love doesn’t work like that.”

“She started it.”

I feel the urge to roll my eyes so hard they might get stuck in the back of my head. “Whatever childish game you two are playing, trying to make each other jealous? It’s not working.”

I poke him in the chest with my finger. “You need to grow up and own up to your mistakes. But first, give me the shoot I want.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ll love you forever if you can make this happen.”

“You make the shots happen. I’ll make the vacation happen.” I tilt my head. “And everybody loves me.”

“You egotistical maniac.” His smile reaches his eyes this time. “Deal.”

“Good.” I clap my hands to get everyone’s attention. The rest of the day goes off without a hitch.