The first photoshoot.

I look over at the nightstand as I wake up groggily and read the small note that Vi has left for me on the bedside table. Her fancy, cursive writing informs me that:

"Morning my love! I left early for the shoot, didn’t want to be late. Remember to lock the door, please and thank you. Text me when you awaken! Love you! Vi."

Slightly under her writing, there is a messier, scratchier message. "cuck <3"

I wonder who wrote that. I roll my eyes as Ari's stupid grinning face flashed through my mind.

I push myself off the bed and start to collect my things. I'm shocked that nothing happened with Vi and me. Not a slight moment of teasing with Ari and Sai across the room. No teasing at all—just normal time spent with my girlfriend.

I find myself in my own dorm room, freshly showered, morning breath gone, leaning over the small bench in the kitchenette. A small bowl of spaghetti sits off to the side, a can of energy drink my sole study buddy. Just as I was getting into the groove of actually being able to read through the PowerPoint of the last lecture I saved myself the **** of attending, my phone buzzes.

"Made it safely! Sorry I didn’t update quicker, I got straight into it! This is the first outfit he asked me to wear!"

Vi is holding her phone up at her chest, her hand in her hair, a sweet smile on her face as she poses in what I assume to be the changing room at the photo studio, decorated to give it a homely feel. She’s wearing the sweetest light blue, floral-style dress, thin straps resting on her shoulders, the hem flowing down just past her knees, and the dress is styled with a bow around the waist, accentuating her figure. It's the kind of dress that would fit in perfectly at most retail stores. She looks like an absolute natural—she’s so effortlessly beautiful. Her hair is loose and flows down her back, with some resting on her shoulders. A small little slit at the bottom of the dress gives what would usually be a very tame and modest dress the tiniest bit of spice.

"Babe you look so sweet!! Legit, soooo beautiful!"

She could make a garbage bag look amazing, in my unbiased opinion.

"Surely they let you keep that dress, it fits you so perfectly!"

"It’s so sweet! I did ask but they said no :((("

"Going out for the second fit!"

She sends me a second image. She's having a bit of fun with this one. She’s tied her hair up into a simple ponytail, side fringes framing her face. She's wearing a fairly simple gym outfit—it’s a pretty well-known brand, so I assume that either the photographer or the studio does work with the company. A simple gray sports bra hugs her chest nicely, her arms and midriff exposed, her small defined muscles on display. A pair of matching leggings complete the simple but hot outfit as they sit high on her waist.

I smile, so full of cheesy love.

"You look so hot!! Have fun! Who’s the photographer?"

My phone dings again—evidently she had enough time to send me a link to his Instagram. The first pinned photo on his page is a simple profile shot of an older man. I assume that’s him. 'Blake Jackson'. The caption of the image gives a fairly detailed background on him; my unfocused brain, of course, skims the information.
41 years old... gym and health nut... runs marathons... started photographing in his 30s... meteoric rise... high fashion... modelling... boudoir... freelance... adult shoots. This guy has done it all, god damn. For an older guy, he’s looked after himself and it shows.

I take a sip of my energy drink and switch my screen to a replay of last night’s Manchester derby. I know the score, but these matches are always good—even for neutrals. Yeah, no chance I’m doing any more studying.

Wait.

Vi is alone with a good-looking older man?

My stomach knots.

Please feel free to give feedback about using images in chapters. Thanks for reading :)