Halfway Perfect Read Free

Elana. I recognize another girl from my agency, Finley. She’s also one of the only agency models that I know of who might actually spend more hours at the gym than me. I see her there all the time. Finley waves when she spots me, and I give her a quick wave in return.
    A few more witty comments round out the brief hair and makeup session, then I’m off to set. No matter how many jobs I’ve done, it’s always strange to introduce myself to a girl I’ve never met and then act like high school sweethearts for the camera. I try and quiet my mind, knowing nerves or apprehension of any kind have no place on set, and greet the photographer, Janessa Fields. Wes mentioned the other day that she’s a big deal.
    The woman barely acknowledges me, but she doesn’t seem rude or anything, just on task. I can deal with that.
    â€œLet’s get the two lovebirds together,” she says, nudging me on set.
    It’s immediately clear why Elana was imported from France at fourteen. There’s a rawness to her that makes her unique. She stands out. Maybe it’s the tan skin and black hair too. I’m so lost in thought that I stumble over some rigging equipment, almost falling flat on my face. I recover with an awkward jog. Unfortunately, no one buys it and there are a lot of laughs at my complete lack of grace.
    My near face-plant gets Elana’s attention though, and our eyes meet. “I’m Alex.”
    She looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “I’m Elana. Hopefully you can keep your feet on ground.”
    â€œRight. Me too.”
    The accent is heavy, but her English seems good. Not to mention that she’s pretty confident for fourteen if she’s standing here making jokes rather than shaking with nerves. But she’s French. She’s probably walked around topless since birth.
    Janessa cuts the small talk and starts positioning us, which means Elana is now basically straddling my lap. I shut off the part of my brain that’s telling me exactly what I would do to any guy who put his hands on my sister the way I have my hands on Elana. At least she isn’t topless .
    We finish up the first shots quickly, and Elana and I both move on to our first wardrobe change, and Eduardo and Finley, the other model couple, step into the spotlight. While I wait for Janessa to call us back up again, I’m careful to keep out of Frankie’s way. He’s stomping around like a crazy person grumbling about an intern taking forever to fetch his coffee. It’s never a good idea to attempt small talk or try sucking up to producers before they’ve had their morning coffee.
    Hushed voices converse behind me. It’s Hugo and the other wardrobe people.
    â€œThey look so perfect together,” Hugo says.
    â€œHow long have they been dating?”
    â€œI heard they met in Paris over the summer.”
    â€œThat’s probably true,” Hugo says. “Alex spent June in Paris. He did that show for—”
    I glance over my shoulder, knowing it will stop the gossip. I’ve been here, like, an hour. How did I suddenly end up dating a costar? Don’t these people have anything better to do? Like work? That is what we’re here for.
    I catch Finley’s arm before we switch places again. “What’s with all the whispering?”
    She pretends to adjust her hair while checking out my fan club. “Who knows? I wouldn’t get too worked up about stories traveling through the hair and makeup rumor mill.”
    â€œThat’s excellent advice.” I raise my voice to a normal volume and proceed to have the typical how have you been, what jobs are you getting talk with Finley. “Are you still commuting from Connecticut?”
    â€œYeah, but as of December I’ll be a New York City resident.”
    â€œWhat happens in December?” I ask, but my gaze is on Janessa, waiting for her to wave me over again.
    From the corner of my