Developing Negatives[M] {Damoniquexbrokecollege}

[Damonique]

Rated M for(almost) all the things. Primarily drug and alcohol use, sexual themes and situations, physical/emotional violence and generally just an adult tone. Reader either beware or enjoy!

The address Eli gave to the cab driver would drop her in font of a a six-story renovated office building in a recently-gentrified neighborhood that sat right between Prestigious Harvard and more accessible Boston University, an area that was quickly coming to be known as either 'Artists Alley' or 'Freakshow Avenue' for all of the up-and-coming artists and musicians come to rent out apartments and lofts from which to ply their varied trades, close to both the colleges and the rich old money of the city that supported their lifestyles.

Inside, the offices and cubicles hadn't been so much removed, as they had been re-purposed, some walls being knocked down and others left up, creating sort of 'maze' of walls and pillars, all painted stark white, displaying paintings, photographs, and murals that ranged from bland to beautiful to the bizarre. The floor plan essentially forced any visitor to wander their way through the maze, taking in the sights, to get to the reception desk and waiting area in front of the elevators on the far side of the room.

At the desk, a bleach-blonde beauty who could easily be a model herself was sitting in front of a computer, talking into an earpiece, answering questions and making appointments in-between sips of a smoothie, ignoring the redhead until she finally found break to look her up and down, as if judging her, before nodding to herself and extending a hand.

"Welcome to Visual Noir. Name and appointment?" She asked, seeming already bored of the conversation already now that she was done appraising her.

[brokecollege]

Elara was nervous. God, it felt like she had never been more nervous in her life! And it only seemed to grow worse as she weaved through the intricate maze of the office building's lobby. When she reached the reception desk, however, is when her nervous state reached its peak. She could not believe she had let her mother talk her into this. Was it too late to turn around and run back to the cab? The receptionist hadn't even noticed her yet, Elara was sure she could--

Her thoughts were interrupted when the receptionist, a beautiful blonde, looked up and extended Elara a hand. Oh, no, it was too late. "Hello." Elara greeted the woman with a meek smile and reached her hand out to shake hers. "Oh, uh, my name is Elara Jones," she informed as she pulled her hand back to her chest. "I have an appointment with Mr. DeMarc for one o'clock." there was a pause before Elara continued, thinking for whatever reason that the receptionist might need some more information. "It's for my parents' company, Starry Night."

The redhead slowly dropped her hand from her chest to her side as her gaze drifted across the receptionist's face. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and sharp features. She wondered, briefly, if this woman had been a model for Mr. DeMarc before. She was surely beautiful enough. "You're very pretty." she suddenly chimed, the faintest of smiles touching her red lips. "Are you a model, by chance?" she questioned. "I think you would make a wonderful model."

[Damonique]

"Ah, your Jaime's one o'clock. Your a bit early, that's good, we can get the paperwork settled. You'll have two hours once you get up there, make it count." The receptionist stated, very businesslike, sliding a sheaf of documents and a pen over to her. The first one was a basic questionnaire, name, age, experience, a column of 'will' and 'will not' for things such as full and partial nudity, interaction with other models, and so forth. Clearly, this firm was willing to accommodate all tastes and stylistic choices.

The other two were a waiver allowing the firm to retain any unused photographs for display or distribution, offering fair compensation for any money earned through such use, and a dual-binding non-disclosure agreement. Whatever happened during a session remained private barring both parties consent to disclose, at least on paper, to protect 'trade secrets and methods of the artist, and the privacy of model(s).

"Thank you, Elara, was it? Interesting name. I'm Snow, Snow Escher, and yes, I've spent some time in front of the camera, still do, sometimes. If a client needs something on short notice and doesn't already have a girl lined up for it, I'll fill in." She explained in response to the reheads questions, and then gestured towards a corner of the maze of displays Elara had just walked through.

"If you feel like browsing on the way out, I've got a wall all to myself tucked away in there..." She stated, trailing off with with a wry smile. "...but some of it's a bit too...adventurous, for public display." She finished with a wink, and a flourish of a well-manicured blue-polished nails towards the waiting area off the side before getting back on a phone, making it clear Elara was free to go finish up the paperwork out of the way.

[brokecollege]

Paperwork? Elara curiously cocked her head to the side as the pretty blonde handed her a handful of paperwork. The redhead quickly flipped through the papers--a questionnaire, a waiver, and a non-disclosure agreement. She wondered why such papers were needed for a simple photoshoot but decided not to question the photographer's methods. She did not know much about the world of photography, so she had no right to question how they handled business.

The blond, whose name was Snow, admitted that she had previously been a model. And while she used to spend a lot of time in front of the camera, nowadays she was only in front of it when a client needed a model last minute. Elara smiled and started to form her reply, but stopped when she realized Snow was no longer paying attention. Elara lingered around the receptionist's desk for a moment or two before she shuffled to a nearby seat and began with the paperwork.

The questionnaire was simple--Elara answered all of the questions, ticked off what she was willing and unwilling to do, and wrote in some things her mother had wanted her to mention. When that was finished, she set it aside to read the waiver. After she'd read the document, she signed and dated it. And then she moved onto the final document, the non-disclosure agreement. She read through it, nodded at all the points, and then signed and dated it.

When she was finished, she gathered all of the documents and returned to Snow's desk. "Here you are." she hummed as she set the documents in front of her. She hoped the woman wouldn't flip through the questionnaire, as Elara was a little embarrassed about her unwillingness to do a lot of things. But, what could you expect? Elara was as innocent as she was modest, which was to say a lot. She could hardly get nude while alone, she didn't think she could get nude in front of others. Especially not a man.

[Damonique]

Snow took the papers and looked through them, biting her lip for a moment when she read through the questionnaire, before giving a shrug and letting it drop, stapling the whole sheaf together and setting it in her desk. She was reaching for the pager button when the elevator suddenly opened up.

There he was, Jaime DeMarc, beside a tall, gorgeous woman wearing a skimpy outfit that despite being short on fabric, probably cost more than a lot of people made in a month. He had a tanned, toned arm was draped lazily over her shoulder, but she didn't much seem to mind, eyes glued entirely on the photographer as the said their goodbyes, and stopped to look Lara over for a moment, much as Snow had, before traipsing off through the gallery towards the exit with a perfect runway sway to her hip despite wearing five-inch heels.

"Jaime, new girl's here. Elara Jones. Advertising job, for Starry Night. No experience, and either they or she want it tasteful. Postcard shot, two different magazine inserts, and a web banner. Take one framed for billboard display, as well. It's a bit out of their price range right now, but we can hold onto it until the other shots work their magic and they come back for more." Snow explained in rapid, exact sentences, not even having to glance at her computer or papers to get all of the details right. Clearly, she was more than just a secretary, and knew her way around the business.

"Seem to have everything lined up for me, as usual, Snowflake." Jaime said breezily as he walked towards them, and Elara couldn't help how easily he worked in the pet name, or how it made the blonde blush before returning to her work. Finally, he turned his attention towards Elara. He didn't just glance her over once or twice, which seemed to be the norm for anyone in this business, but walked a short circle around her, cocking his head back and forth to get different angles, clear blue eyes seeming to cut right through her in the fleeting moments they caught her own verdant greens. Eventually he stepped back, silent for a moment, distracted, as if his thoughts were far away, before cracking a beaming smile and clapping her hands together, suddenly seeming quite excited.

"Ah, my apologies, haven't even introduced myself and I'm treating you like your already on the wall." He finally said, extending a hand and allowing himself to chuckle at his own joke. "Jaime DeMarc, I'll be your photographer today. No experience, eh? Well, I'm sure you have some experience. School pictures, family photos...instagram." He continued without skipping a beat, that last word coming out like some sort of insult. Jaime did not like his chosen profession being turned into...not even a hobby, but almost a game, lately.

[brokecollege]

Snow briefly looked over the documents before she stapled them together and set them aside. She then reached forward to touch a buzzer but stopped when the nearby elevator doors opened. There, standing beside a beautiful model, stood the renowned Jaime DeMarc. While Elara herself did not know much about him, her mother did. And according to her mother, Jaime DeMarc was the best photographer around. If anyone was going to help bring their business out of this rut, it was Mr. DeMarc.

Once the model had bid farewell to Jaime, the receptionist spoke up. Elara looked to Snow with surprise clear on her face--the words she spoke, while English, sounded like a foreign language to Elara. Jaime, however, understood her words with ease. He thanked the blonde for her attentiveness, his honeyed words and sweet nickname making the woman turn a red as Elara's hair. With all the information out in the open, Jaime turned to Elara and began to examine her.

Elara shifted uncomfortably in her spot. Was this kind of examination normal in the photography business? It must've been because Jaime was the third person to do it within the last ten minutes! When he had finished examining Elara from top to bottom, he apologized and stuck his hand out. Elara shyly took his hand and shook it. "Hello, Mr. DeMarc. I'm embarrassed to say that I don't have any experience. The only social media I have is to keep in touch with some out of state relatives.." she quietly admitted. Elara had never been interested in social media--not because she didn't have friends or anything, but simply because she thought living in the moment was far better than sticking her nose in front of a screen. "I hope my inexperience won't be too much of a bother."

[Damonique]

Jaime's handshake was both gentle and firm at once. The skin of his palm and fingers was soft, clearly well taken-care of, most definitely professionally, but for a few places that were calloused. The pad of his thumb, the side of his palm, and the inside of the pointer finger, from gripping the camera, pressing the flash, and fiddling with the settings, the constant repetition of the same actions roughening the skin in a way that no creams or files could erase.

But the grip itself was stronger than expected, long fingers wrapping easily about the redheads slimmer ones, shaking once, twice, three times while she stammered out apologies, before finally releasing his grip. All the while, he kept that easy smile, eyes focuses so attentively on Elara that it was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. He gave a small laugh and beaconed towards the elevator, the gesture of 'ladies first' clear.

"What does all fine art start as, Elara? A blank canvas, and empty page, a fresh roll of film. That's where the artist comes in and turns nothing into something. Besides, it could be a good thing, I won't have to break you of any bad habits another artist might have let slide, and just teach you the right way from the start." He answered as he followed her into the elevator. All of the words seemed correct, made sense when looked at from an entirely professional point of view. But the way he so easily called her 'nothing', delved into 'breaking her' of things and 'teaching' others seemed intentional, and might have set off some warning signs in the redhead but for the confidence and nonchalance Jaime spoke them with, without the slightest change in tone or behavior.

And soon enough, they were together in the elevator, door closing with a ding. Jaime pressed a button and it slowly hummed to life, going up. The elevator box itself was renovated in a glistening chrome, but it was still an old elevator shaft for an old building, slow to rise and on the small side, leaving them very close together as it made the ascent. He seemed as untroubled by this, as he seemed untroubled by nearly anything, neither offering to or taking from her the scant distance offered by the cramped space, and began to speak again.

"So, if you've never tried your hand at modeling before, why did you decide to now? I can't say I know too much about your employer....Starry Night, was it? But most of our clients either send professionals or have us find one for them from our list. Where did you come from. Student who needs experiences for a class, answer an ad online?" He inquired.

[brokecollege]

When their introductions had passed, Jaime gestured towards the nearby elevator. Elara adjusted the strap of her bag before she scurried away from the receptionist's desk and into the elevator. Jaime followed after her, only resuming their previous conversation once the doors had closed. She was relieved to hear that her inexperience wouldn't be a burden. Elara has always had a fear of being a heavy burden on others; it didn't matter if that person was someone she had just met.

Jaime pressed one of the elevator's buttons, causing the box to rumble to life and begin its rise. Elara's lips curled into a sheepish smile at his question. "Ah, well... it was not really my decision. It was my mother's, you see. My family's business is going through a bit of a rough patch, and while my mother thinks that advertisements will help us, we can't afford a model. So, she convinced me to take the model's place."

Well, it wasn't 'convinced' so much as it was 'demanded.' But, Elara didn't mind. If doing this meant she was helping her father and his business, then she would bite her tongue and go through with it. "And I don't really mind, anyway. If these photos turn out as well as my mother expects, then we'll be able to afford a proper model in no time." she quickly added, her sheepish smile turning into that of confidence.

[Damonique]

Jaime listened along as Lara answered his question, seeming genuinely interested in what she had to say, nodding along at all the appropriate points. And he supposed it was all very good to know, checking off little details about her that he could fill in, not just through the words themselves, but also tone and body language. Family oriented, a bit shy, less than confident in herself, but willing to step out of her comfort zone for approval.

"That's very sweet of you, who better to sell a family business than a member of it? And besides, I doubt it was all to save money. They must be proud of having such a beautiful daughter, what better way to show that by putting her in magazines and postcards?" He answered conversationally, calling her beautiful without making a fuss about it.

It wasn't entire a lie, just from the once-over he gave her earlier, Jaime could tell she was pretty enough, and that was without putting nearly as much work into it as many of his models did in the morning. Given the right attitude and a bit of direction, she could easily deserve the compliment.

The elevator finally came to a stop, door opening into a hallways that was, once again, stark white and lined with artwork, leading her towards a door halfway down it. his name proudly displayed in gold lettering beside it. There were other doors along the wall, some of them with different names beside them, other artists who leased space here, and also a large wardrobe and makeup studio they all shared.

"Surely you were at least a bit excited to be here, where stars are made? Plenty of girls trying to get into the industry are just waiting for a break like this. Sure, it's just an advertisement, but if you do well in front of the camera, get a little exposure, that's all it takes to get listed, make a real career out of it. Or at least a well-paying hobby." Jaime continued, trying to get some enthusiasm going before they were on the clock. Right now, Elara wasn't really doing this because she wanted to, which would mean nerves, and questions, making him explain the 'why's to every little thing he needed her to do.

[brokecollege]

While the photographer doubted money was her mother's only motivation, Elara knew it was. Johanna wasn't so much focused on family as she was business. Her father had always been the emotional and loving member of the family, never her mother. But Elara didn't mind--everyone had their strengths and their weaknesses. Johanna's weakness was that she cared more for her business than she did anything else. But she didn't tell Jaime that.

When the elevator came to a stop, Elara followed Jaime out of it and into the blank hallway. They walked about halfway down the hallway before stopping at a dark marked with Jaime's name. Jaime opened the door, and Elara stepped inside. "While it is interesting to see a celebrity's beginning, I've never really had much of an interest in becoming one myself. I want to be an astronomer." Elara looked around the studio and all the fancy equipment and furniture that surrounded them, and she suddenly began to feel very underdressed.

Her mother had tried to convince her to wear the fanciest clothing she owned, but in the end, Elara decided to wear something simple: a pair of ripped blue jeans with an old, faded graphic t-shirt that she had gotten from God knows where. Her hair had been left untouched, the natural waves cascading down passed her shoulders like a never-ending sea of red. She ran a hand over her faded shirt, as if straightening out the wrinkles that were practically embedded in the fabric.

Maybe she should've listened to her mother--even if it had been just adding some blush to her cheeks and gloss to her lips. She brushed back her hair and turned her attention to Jaime. "So, uhm, how exactly do we do this?" she questioned. Now was not the time to wallow about what could have been. This was what she decided to wear, so she had to stick with it. "I didn't bring any spare clothes with me." she quickly added. "Should I have?"

[Damonique]

"Astronomy, eh? You would rather study remote and fascinating things than be one yourself. I can respect that. I do my share of stargazing when I can get away from the city lights, but I try not to think to hard about what I'm actually seeing. The vastness of it, the distances involved have a way of making one suddenly feel very small, insignificant even." Jaime explained after spending a moment with a far-away look, as they stepped through into the studio, which was a large but nearly empty room painted entirely in a stark white. It was very spartan, with no signs of either clutter or ornamentation, lacking even the slightest personal touch or display of his work.

All the fixtures and surfaces were either transparent glass or the same uniform white, even the couches and chairs. At first glance, it looked more like an operating room than anything else, completely sanitized. One wall was lined halfway down by shelving, housing row upon row of white binders of varying width, each with a name printed on the spine in black lettering. Beside each of the names was a comma, then a handwritten note of some sort in flowing cursive that wasn't readable at a distance. Only about a third of the shelves were full, so far, the rest waiting to be filled. In front of those was a swivel chair set up in front of a large desk with an impressive multi-monitor computer setup. On the other side of the room were several couches around a low glass table. Beside that, a bank of large wardrobes labeled by size and brand, all of which were designer, sat around a mirror and makeup stand.

Further back was where the actual studio started, several smaller 'rooms' of varying size and shape assembled out of rolling screens. The only real source of color in the room came from the already set-up scenes that was the centerpiece of each of these. A plush bed with deep red velvet covers, a large patch of transplanted grass in a sod-box with a soccer goal sitting on it, a very normal looking living room designed to look lived-in, and other things that gave a glimpse of some of the other projects Jaime was working on.

Surrounded by all of this, the young redhead suddenly seemed flustered, inquiring about her outfit and doing what little she could to try to make her present state more presentable. Embarrassment was actually quite a good look on Elara, her cheeks flushing a deep pink that made her freckles stand out and paired well with her deep red hair, contrasting against the greens of her eyes. Jaime wished he already had his camera out to capture that moment, but as it was, he just smirked and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, turning her towards the wardrobe area.

"Don't worry about it, the designers pay good money to make sure we use their products in our work. We'll probably go through a few different outfits, for variety. Taking the photos is the easy part, a lot of our time will be spent setting up each shot." He explained, and led Elara towards the mirror and wardrobes, releasing her arm and leaning casually against one of them. Most photographers would have a whole crew to do fitting, makeup and the like, only stepping up when it came time to start posing, but Jaime didn't like to sit idly by and let others create his vision. Besides, it was just the two of them here now, and he preferred it that way.

"So, any questions before we start?" He asked nonchalantly, head cocked to the side, still wearing that easy smile on his lips although it no longer made it to the blue of his eyes as he steeled himself for the barrage of inane questions with answers that should be very obvious that Elara was sure to ask. She was young, inexperienced, and more than a bit shy. While all of those traits could be very appealing, they tended to make for a remarkably uncooperative model, and they did have a job to do here.