really? I really wanted you there. Did you see that Kat Krave girl? I'm going to look like a troll next to her."
"Please, like you could ever look bad. Besides, she's all plastic. Don't think about it so much."
After they left the recording studio, she decided some retail therapy would help her mood. She found a cute silk white peasant top with navy embroidery and a pair of navy and white striped jeans she couldn't say no to. The look was very 60's and she loved it. She added a pair of chunky sandals to finish the look.
Lucky enjoyed her newfound freedom. She didn't regret how she grew up. She understood why her parents protected her so much and appreciated it, but she was twenty-one and realized she didn't have any of the experiences other people her age had.
While her parents preferred her to stay home, they indulged her musical interests. Since she was a child she enjoyed music and quickly began making up her own songs. Her parents sent her to lessons first for the piano, later the guitar, and lastly bass because she felt like she wanted a new challenge.
By the time she was accepted into Berklee, she won several songwriting awards and had been featured in a couple of local newspaper articles. She couldn't remember when she didn't want to be a musician. She knew she was fortunate to have her dream come true, but she worked really hard for it.
"You're right, Jordan. I am getting too into my head. Screw them if they think I'm fat or big. I know what I look like. I'll put up with this photo shoot and whatever else they want. In the end I know its going to be about my music." She sighed softly. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm nervous as hell though."
"Ok, ok, relax. I'll tag along."
The photo shoot was in an old warehouse in Santa Monica. The drab grey exterior contrasted the stark white interior. A faint smell of bleach filled the air of the spacious open area. Large rectangular windows let the sun stream in rays onto the shiny tile floor.
Ian Taylor, a renown rock n roll photographer, converted the first floor into a studio with lighting and sets. The saltwater smell of the nearby ocean drifted in through the windows, masking the bleach and making the room feel less clinical. The large space echoed with their footsteps as they entered the building.
"Lucky! Back here!" Richard Black called from a corner towards the back of the large studio.
As they approached, Lucky noticed a couple of guys talking to each other. They were in their early twenties like her and each wore a plain black tee shirt with their jeans. She wondered if that was planned or coincidence.
"Did you put on more weight? I really was hoping you'd lose," Richard said.
Lucky shot him a dirty look then scanned the room looking for Kat, figuring she'd get all her insecurities out as quickly as possible.
"I don't see Kat," she whispered to Jordan. "Think maybe they changed their minds?"
"Even you aren't that lucky."
A loud bang, then the sound of a sliding metal door echoed through the room, making everyone turn and look. Behind a tall, slim, older man, Kat came stumbling out of the door, looking disheveled and giggling. Wearing a pair of dark grey slacks, a white pinstriped buttoned shirt, and a devilish grin, Ian made his way over to Richard, Lucky and Jordan.
"Ahh you must be Lucky," he said in a crisp British accent that immediately charmed her. "I've been looking forward to this shoot." His tousled, salt and pepper hair fell onto his forehead as he put his hand out to greet her.
As she placed her hand in his, he lifted her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them. She felt heat burn her cheeks and understood why Kat acted as foolishly as she did. There was something sensual about Ian many women couldn't resist.
"You're in good hands with Ian. He's photographed some of the best known artists out there. I'm sure you're familiar with his pictures," Richard said.
"Yes, I will get the best you there is. The world will see not only how
"Please, like you could ever look bad. Besides, she's all plastic. Don't think about it so much."
After they left the recording studio, she decided some retail therapy would help her mood. She found a cute silk white peasant top with navy embroidery and a pair of navy and white striped jeans she couldn't say no to. The look was very 60's and she loved it. She added a pair of chunky sandals to finish the look.
Lucky enjoyed her newfound freedom. She didn't regret how she grew up. She understood why her parents protected her so much and appreciated it, but she was twenty-one and realized she didn't have any of the experiences other people her age had.
While her parents preferred her to stay home, they indulged her musical interests. Since she was a child she enjoyed music and quickly began making up her own songs. Her parents sent her to lessons first for the piano, later the guitar, and lastly bass because she felt like she wanted a new challenge.
By the time she was accepted into Berklee, she won several songwriting awards and had been featured in a couple of local newspaper articles. She couldn't remember when she didn't want to be a musician. She knew she was fortunate to have her dream come true, but she worked really hard for it.
"You're right, Jordan. I am getting too into my head. Screw them if they think I'm fat or big. I know what I look like. I'll put up with this photo shoot and whatever else they want. In the end I know its going to be about my music." She sighed softly. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm nervous as hell though."
"Ok, ok, relax. I'll tag along."
The photo shoot was in an old warehouse in Santa Monica. The drab grey exterior contrasted the stark white interior. A faint smell of bleach filled the air of the spacious open area. Large rectangular windows let the sun stream in rays onto the shiny tile floor.
Ian Taylor, a renown rock n roll photographer, converted the first floor into a studio with lighting and sets. The saltwater smell of the nearby ocean drifted in through the windows, masking the bleach and making the room feel less clinical. The large space echoed with their footsteps as they entered the building.
"Lucky! Back here!" Richard Black called from a corner towards the back of the large studio.
As they approached, Lucky noticed a couple of guys talking to each other. They were in their early twenties like her and each wore a plain black tee shirt with their jeans. She wondered if that was planned or coincidence.
"Did you put on more weight? I really was hoping you'd lose," Richard said.
Lucky shot him a dirty look then scanned the room looking for Kat, figuring she'd get all her insecurities out as quickly as possible.
"I don't see Kat," she whispered to Jordan. "Think maybe they changed their minds?"
"Even you aren't that lucky."
A loud bang, then the sound of a sliding metal door echoed through the room, making everyone turn and look. Behind a tall, slim, older man, Kat came stumbling out of the door, looking disheveled and giggling. Wearing a pair of dark grey slacks, a white pinstriped buttoned shirt, and a devilish grin, Ian made his way over to Richard, Lucky and Jordan.
"Ahh you must be Lucky," he said in a crisp British accent that immediately charmed her. "I've been looking forward to this shoot." His tousled, salt and pepper hair fell onto his forehead as he put his hand out to greet her.
As she placed her hand in his, he lifted her fingers to his lips and softly kissed them. She felt heat burn her cheeks and understood why Kat acted as foolishly as she did. There was something sensual about Ian many women couldn't resist.
"You're in good hands with Ian. He's photographed some of the best known artists out there. I'm sure you're familiar with his pictures," Richard said.
"Yes, I will get the best you there is. The world will see not only how
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