Model Mayhem

Lacy sat in the corner of the waiting room. She felt exposed. It wasn't often that she broke out of her shell like this, but when a guy at the mall flashes as much cash as he did, it's hard to say no. Five hundred bucks he promised just for the interview. She didn't know if that was normal or not, but, after taking a whole bunch of important precautions, she had decided to come out to the interview. The guy's card said that his name was Jack. He was an older guy, but she liked it better that way. Hopefully it meant he had experience.

"Lacy?" a man called, but not the same man as before. She hadn't seen Jack since arriving at his office a few minutes ago.

She stood up and waved a hand, though no one else was there, so it wasn't like he was looking for anybody else. "That's me," she said in an awkward voice. The door opened. The man who had called her might have been in his twenties, thirties at the latest. He was handsome. That made her feel a little less comfortable than she had before, honestly. He was handsome enough to make her feel anxious. He led her inside. It was a plain room with a backdrop, a desk, and a big leather couch. Half an office and half a studio.

"I'm Max, by the way," he said as he passed her, giving her a lazy hand-shake.

"Is Jack gonna be here?" she said.

"Oh yeah. He's just in the back room," he said. That took a weight off her shoulders. He came out just a few seconds later, as promised, smiling. He looked a little shittier than he had at the mall, but still not... bad.

"Hey. Lacy, right? It's good to see you again. You look great." She did look great. She was always pretty, but she had tried real hard today. Black dress, face full of makeup, her honey-brown hair straightened and looking proper. "Just a second. Our intimacy coordinator will be out in a second."

Lacy recognized that phrase. An intimacy coordinator was someone who arranged tough scenes on big fancy shows. HBO kind of shows. This must be a pretty big deal of an audition after all. Out came a woman only a few years older than Lacy herself. If it weren't for the heels, the lady probably would've been a few inches shorter than Lacy. She had black hair and dark eyes. Might have been mixed-race, probably Asian and white, if Lacy were the gambling sort. "I'm Nancy," she said. "Gang's all here. Why don't you take a seat over there, and we'll get started?"

Jack set up a camera at the edge of his desk. It faced the couch Nancy had pointed to. Lacy walked over to it quick as she could and sat. Nate and Nancy both stood off-camera. They were assistants, Lacy figured. But that made her the star of the show.

"So. What makes you want to start nude modeling?" asked Jack.