Chapter 54: Filler legs
Amara had no idea what was coming for her. Standing in front of me the entire shoot, she couldn’t see my face or read my expressions, and her confidence was so inflated that she genuinely believed she was on the same level as Anders Marlon. So when the photographer and his crew started clapping and cheering after each set, she absorbed every bit of it as her own. It never crossed her mind that she was blocking the very person they were applauding.
The shoot continued the same way throughout. Because of our clothing contrast, I mostly ended up positioned behind Amara, and even during the side by side shots, she always found a way to lead. It fed something in her, and she carried herself through the rest of the session like she had already won.
When the final set wrapped up and the applause came again, Amara stepped forward and received it like a seasoned supermodel accepting a standing ovation. She soaked it all in, then swept out of the studio ahead of me, which gave the photographer a quiet moment to approach me directly.
"That model is something else," he said, shaking his head with a small laugh. "But I won’t say anything now. Once the magazine’s front cover drops and people see the two of you side by side, she’s going to feel it. Trust me, plenty of people will line up to put her in her place."
He was a senior in the industry and had clearly seen this kind of thing before. I thanked him sincerely.
"No need to thank me," he said, lifting his thumb. "You’re genuinely the most skilled model I’ve worked with in a long time. I mean that. You’re on the level of Western models. The weekly issue comes out next Wednesday, so look forward to it. You’re going to ignite the Oriental Trend."
I smiled and told him honestly that it wasn’t something I could decide. All I ever did was give my best, and I knew the industry was full of hardworking, talented people. Hard work alone didn’t guarantee fame. Luck had its own role to play.
When I got back to the waiting room, Amara had already thrown herself into Liam’s arms and was excitedly retelling the whole story of her applause. He listened, wrapped an arm around her waist, and smiled like a man who had always believed in her. He had no way of knowing the applause had never been meant for her at all.
I walked in just then, and one of the studio staff who had been tidying up looked over at me and gave me a thumbs up. "You’re really the best model I’ve ever seen," he said, in English.
Amara didn’t catch a word of it. Her English was limited, and she just stood there looking vaguely pleased with herself. But Liam understood every syllable.
What the staff didn’t realize was that Liam could follow along perfectly. Assuming neither of them spoke English, he turned and looked at Amara with open disgust. "I genuinely cannot believe that woman is your colleague," he said. "She can’t even be called a model. No professional instincts whatsoever, and she thinks far too highly of herself. She doesn’t understand English and somehow thought we were all praising her. Something is seriously off with her."
He walked out after that. I turned and caught the look on Liam’s face, and I felt the corners of my mouth pull upward just slightly.
"Amara," Liam said quietly, "are you sure the photographer was praising you?"
Amara looked at him without a flicker of doubt. "Liam, don’t you believe me? Everything I told you was real. Go ask the photographer yourself if you want. Trust me on this. I’m going to revive Secret, I know it."
Liam said nothing more, but his eyes drifted to my back as I moved across the room. The staff member’s words were still turning over in his mind, and something in his chest felt unsettled. Still, the shoot was done. Even if Amara hadn’t stood out the way she believed, her name and face were now tied to an international magazine, and that alone would count for something at the Top Ten Model Awards.
He told himself that was enough.
The conversation had already wound down when Nicole burst back into the room, practically glowing with excitement. She made a beeline for me and lowered her voice just enough to still be heard by everyone present. "Valerie, do you know what I just heard? The photographer said that in the solo shoot, Amara looked like a temptress."
Amara untangled herself from Liam’s arms instantly. She crossed the room toward Nicole with her hand already raised, but I moved faster, pulling Nicole out of the way and catching Amara’s wrist before she could follow through.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
Amara yanked her hand free and pointed at Nicole with a sneer. "If you have the nerve, tell her to say it again. And Valerie, stop being a sore loser. I know you’re bitter about standing in the background today, but you were wearing black. What did you expect?"
Nicole stepped right back in front of me, refusing to be shielded for long. "You snatched the clothes, remember? And honestly, Amara, I’m done going back and forth with you. Whether the photography team was impressed or embarrassed by you, Wednesday will answer that question for all of us."
"Fine," Amara said, her voice sharp and clipped. "When Wednesday comes, we’ll see who the public actually chooses."
Then she turned and swept her arm across the makeup table, sending everything crashing to the floor. Glass shattered and scattered. A few small shards flew in my direction and caught my legs, leaving thin cuts across the skin.
Nicole went from contained to furious in an instant. "Amara! You’ve injured Valerie’s legs. Do you have any idea what they’re worth? Apologize, right now!"
Amara looked at her like she had said something completely absurd. "Apologize? You’re dreaming."
"You..."
"Nicole." I placed a hand on her arm to stop her, then spoke calmly and clearly. "Call my insurance company and ask them to send someone to collect evidence. There’s no need to beg for an apology. I’m covered, but the insurance company won’t simply let an injury like this go. I imagine they’ll be pursuing the person responsible through the appropriate legal channels."
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