Chapter 2

I'm struggling to hold in the biggest yawn.

It turns out that a 7:30 am call time exceeds my usual limits. I can barely keep my eyes open with the weight of the fake lashes the makeup artist carefully applied.

She's adding the finishing touches to my look now, I realize, as I catch a glimpse of myself. It's weird to see the combination of full glam with my natural hair.

The hair stylist has added a soft wave to my long, golden locks. Normally, I wear wigs when doing anything singing related, but I guess I'm not promoting my music today. My onstage persona is a bit wild at times, and I favor colorful wigs and fun outfits.

My makeup is giving me a far different facial structure. I'm genuinely impressed with the cheekbones the artist has made appear on my round face. And is that a jawline I see?! Color me impressed.

Luckily, the makeup artist and hair stylist have been as sleepy as me, so we've mostly kept to a mutual silence.

The pair gently let me know that I'm ready and they will see me onset for touch ups.

Great, now I'm actually alone with my thoughts. I can feel the grogginess of the morning start to wear away and in its place is a bundle of nerves.

I startle as the door opens, a slip of a man barging in.

"Ah! Flora, perfect! Checking you're ready to go. I will be back around in a moment to take you to set."

He's gone in an instant.

Great. I wring my hands together, my anxiety rising. I didn't even get to ask anything about what's going to happen.

For a pretty sensitive situation, no one is really trying to prepare me at all. Frank doesn't start work this early, so I have no one that I can call.

What if it's on purpose? Maybe the Monster is a beast and they don't want me to leave, so they're tricking me onto set so I can't say no.

They have me wearing a white, two piece set. A strip of a tube top and then a long and tight maxi skirt that shows the shape of my generous curves. I feel like a sacrificial lamb being brought to slaughter.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I hop out of the chair, needing to move. Pacing the room, I hum a nonsense tune to myself. It's a good distraction, as I find myself actually trying to compose something.

Inspired, I take out my phone and take a short recording of the melody.

I'm currently in the writing phase for my debut album. I've released an EP in the past, and a few singles too. But this is my first actual long form album.

I still get tingles when I think about the fact that this is my life now. My writing and recording schedule is mine to manage, and I get work with Alex who I admire so dearly.

It's at that moment that the man comes back into the room, announcing that they are ready for me. I follow him down the hallway, feeling a flash of excitement along with my fear.

There aren't many people onset. The man who retrieved me and the photographer seem to be the only two Humans on first glance.

Then there's the Monsters. I can see two, and I pause, a stumble in my step for a moment.

The first is a tall, wiry gray-skinned man. When he shifts, I realize that he has a tail with a point at the end, too. He's dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a shirt, but they scream wealth.

The other is a beautiful wisp of a woman, with glorious translucent wings sprouting from her back. Her skin is tinged a pale blue and she wears a structured white pant suit. She flicks her long blue hair over a shoulder, looking at me with disapproval in her glare.

OK, then.

The photographer introduces himself as Benedict. I've heard of his work before and I compliment him on a recent magazine shoot he did.

Benedict bows his head lightly, "I didn't expect you to be familiar with my work. My humblest gratitude, my dear."

A low vibration begins behind me, or at least I think that's what it is. Turning to see what it is, I am greeted with a wide expanse of chest, clad in a loose white shirt. I need to look up to see this person.

It's him that's making the noise, almost like a growl of sorts. He doesn't look impressed, to say the least.

"Flora, my dear," the growl becomes more intense, "this is your co-star for the day. Please let me introduce Sebastian Orville and his team. Sebastian, this is Florence Augustine."

I use the time Benedict is speaking to look at Sebastian. He is large. Deep brown skin, shoulder length black hair hanging loose around a face framed with structure. This man did not need the contouring that I did.

His eyes are a bright, glowing green, his pupils slit like a cat. If not for his size, the true giveaway that this is not a Human is the scales. Patches of varying sizes stand out beneath the shirt, almost looking like tears across his skin. They're black with a sheen of the same green as his eyes, he even has some on those high cheekbones.

A hand gently prods my elbow, and I cringe, realizing I have been staring too long. Benedict is looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry," I falter over my words, "I think I missed what you said."

"No worries, I was directing you to move forward here." He guides me to my marker.

Benedict spends a bit of time figuring out how best to work with the height difference between Sebastian and I.

I'm not a small woman, I am 5'7" and I'm not skinny by any means. But Sebastian dwarfs me. I had a friend in college that was 6'3" and even he would look short compared to Sebastian.

I watch as he is directed by Benedict to stand a good bit behind me.

"I will use forced perspective, I think." He mutters to himself. I smile and gently giggle at his utter lack of preparation. I glance at Sebastian to share my smile and lighten the mood, also just to look at him more.

He catches my glance and immediately looks away, his strong brows furrowing. He scowls at the gray-skinned man, who seems to sneer in response.

The rest of the shoot goes pretty much the same way. We're not directed to actively look at one another at any point. Anytime I actually did look his way, he was pointedly not looking at me.

I don't let my disappointment show on my face, or I at least try not to. Now that I'm here, I'm not sure what I expected from the Monsters. I mean, they seem pretty normal, if a little rude and grumpy. But I'm not exactly getting that once in a million lifetimes excitement level that I was expecting.

That being said, I am not letting my guard down for one second. I'm painfully aware that I have my back to a well-honed killing machine. Sebastian could definitely take me in a fight. I wouldn't stand a chance. Let's be real, there wouldn't even be a fight.

My breath quickens at the thought, and I feel a pulse of heat go straight to my pussy.

Nope. Not now, absolutely not. I'm not letting my guard down, remember?!

I can't help but look back at Sebastian again. He's not looking away this time. Our gazes meet for a moment and there is an intensity there that I can't quite seem to figure out. A muscle ticks in his jaw and I don't know why that has suddenly become an incredibly attractive thing for a person to do.

"That's a wrap!" Benedict calls out. "Great work, both of—" He is cut off as Sebastian storms out of the room, no attempt at any kind of subtlety. The two other Monsters follow suit and the door slams loudly behind them.

I'm startled right out of my strange thoughts. Fuck, what is wrong with me?!

"Thank you, my dear. You did lovely." Benedict pats my shoulder. "I wish this could have been a nicer experience, but we made do."

Plastering a smile on my face, I shake his hand. "It was a pleasure to work with you, Benedict. Perhaps we will do so again in the future."

With that, I turn and leave the set quickly. I race back down the hall to my dressing room, my fingers trembling as I open the door.

My wardrobe assistant is inside, ready to take my clothes back and I nearly sob right in her face. I need some time alone right now to process. I don't get it, it's not like anything particularly dramatic happened. My body is telling me a different story though, as I try to hold still through my tremors.

I feel wrong. Like a part of me is missing.