Chapter 5: Transforming

I slept for about twelve hours. It doesn't happen very often, but I had a night shoot the next day. I only get night shoots when a photographer wants a specific effect that can't be done in a dark studio, but I'm okay with that, they pay more.

Damien called me in the afternoon. It was a very odd conversation. His tone made me feel like nothing at all had happened last night, even though he directly mentioned it. He told me that he had thoroughly enjoyed himself and hoped I had, too. Then he hinted that he may stop by my shoot to see how things go. When I got up, I almost immediately hit the floor. My legs were jelly and my arms were worse. I've never experienced soreness in my arms like that day. Also, as I'd suspected, my throat felt like someone had tried to shove a bat down it, and my crotch and anus burned.

I showered after our phone conversation, and it hit me as I dried my hair that I'd better talk to Rob. The second he answered, I could tell he was busy. I heard lots of background noises through the phone, including loud trance music.

"What's up, girly?" he asked. His voice was tense as he tried to speak over all the sound.

"Not much. Can we do dinner? I need to talk to you about stuff."

"Uh..." The pause on his end was long and all I heard was more voices and a rhythmic thudding. "I'm in LA in the middle of a big rehearsal for the fashion show tomorrow. What time would you want to get together?"

"My shoot tonight is at 7:30. Maybe after?"

Rob seemed very distracted. I could totally relate. I hated trying to talk to people with a studio executive or photographer breathing down my neck. "Yeah—yeah give me a call as soon as you're done, and I'll make it work."

"Okay, bye." I exhaled deeply as I hung up. My relationship with Rob was over in ... I checked my watch ... ten hours and counting. I didn't think he'd be too upset, but it'd been a nice thing. We never got in each other's way. We weren't possessive. We liked the same movies. Like I said, it'd been a nice thing. I realized then that I'd probably miss him more than I'd suspected. He treated me well, and that counted for a lot.

"Oh well," I told myself. "That's how they go."

I went to make lunch and discovered I was nearly out of food. Technically it was Adrienne's turn to shop, but she was almost never around to do it. By the time I got back from the store and lugged all my groceries up the steps, I only had a few hours to make dinner, eat it, and get to the shoot. Life as a model.

It's almost impossible to see stars in San Francisco, even on a clear night. The night was beautiful for the fall and the moon was big and low. Perfect conditions for the shoot. The make-shift set was on the roof of a parking garage. A large, burly photographer who looked like he shouldn't even know how to work a camera introduced himself as Frankie and showed me to a little cubicle set up with lights for my makeup. A thirty something girl with a stick-like body named Rachel did my hair and face. We chatted over the sound of the heater that whirred at my feet to make sure I was warm. She said she'd worked with Trudy a couple of times at fashion shows and picked up several tips from her. When I paid close attention, I could see some of Trudy's technique had rubbed off on her.

They dressed me in a blue-sequined evening gown with matching eye and lip embellishments. Another girl who I'd worked with once before right when I got started in the business, Patrice, a stunning black girl from Fresno, had been dressed and painted in similar fashion, only her outfit was a brilliant red. Fire and Ice, a huge new hair care line by Nada Hair Products launching next month. As Patrice and I were getting our final touches put on, I heard the advertising directors talking to Frankie.

"We want this really sexy," one of them told Frankie. "Really sexy. You know the Axe deodorant ads? We want to make those look tame. Kids and adults had better be having orgasms when they see the Fire and Ice ads. We want them looking at the pictures, rushing to the computer to jerk off to porn, and then going back to whatever they were doing. Get it? Fire and Ice equals orgasm equals happiness equals Mom and Dad better open their fucking wallets and buy me some orgasm in a bottle. That's what we want."

Frankie just kept nodding and telling them he understood while they kept talking in this vein. They waved us over and played with the lights.

"Orgasm in a bottle, huh?" Patrice whispered to me, with a silly grin. "I'd buy that. Wouldn't you?"

"You betcha," I answered.

The shoot began soon after the directors calmed down enough to let Frankie do his job. He toyed around with us in several poses, facing each other, facing the camera, grinning, scowling, smirking, but nothing he did made the directors happy. Patrice and I watched them argue, adding in our own dialog since we couldn't hear them all the time.

"Do either of you have a problem with kissing a girl?" Frankie finally asked us.

I looked quizzically at Patrice. I sure didn't. She grabbed my head and planted a soft kiss on my lips. Then we both laughed.

Frankie chuckled, too. "Okay, let's play around with that."

Patrice and I kissed in a few more positions, first lightly kissing, then practically full-on making out. The directors and Frankie watched us with more than casual interest. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two of the directors have to adjust themselves. Frankie's camera caught everything. Kissing Patrice made me think of last night with Damien. She had incredibly soft lips, full like Dawn and Dayna's, but my thoughts reverted back to Damien and his friend roughly using me the night before. Kissing her made me feel like an innocent and yet terribly naughty fourteen year old girl again.

"Hot stuff, Felicia. Hot stuff!" Frankie's camera recorded everything. "Look at me now, girls. Damn, you're cooking me, Felicia! You're cooking me!"

Patrice turned my head back toward her and pressed herself into me. I felt myself getting wet as she directed my movements, controlled me in a way. Without thinking about the shoot, my tongue went into her mouth, and she accepted. One of the directors murmured that he liked where this was going, and Frankie yelled some more about how he was getting burned. Patrice ran her hands down my ass and I squeezed her tighter.

By the time Frankie called for a break, both she and I were panting for air. Two of the directors were clapping. Rachel touched us up and then we were back on the set for another round. Some of the poses Frankie put us in were extremely suggestive of us going down on each other while others were more tame. None of them got quite as heated as the shots of us making out.

"Wow!" Frankie said when the shoot was over. "Great stuff. I don't need to look at these to know that we're wrapped up. I'll even send you both free proofs. This is just torching me!"

The directors thanked us, and one of them gave me his business card with his personal phone number. That's like giving gold to a girl in the modeling business. Contacts are key. As Patrice and I changed back into our regular clothes, I said, "You know, a friend and I get together sometimes for a girls night, if—"

"I'd love to." Patrice shot me a wink and kissed me on the cheek as she walked out.

I hurried home and called Rob on the way. He drove over and met me in the parking lot. I thought for sure he'd see what was happening on my face or in my voice as we went upstairs, but I don't think he had a clue. He talked to me the whole way about how awful the rehearsal had been and how he couldn't wait to get out of there. When I closed the door to my apartment, he kissed me so fiercely that it caught me off guard and momentarily swept away my thoughts.

"Wait, wait." I broke off the kiss and stepped back. "I need to tell you that I think our relationship is over."

Rob looked crestfallen. His keys fell to the floor and he sat in one of the chairs at my dining table. "Serious? Is this coming because of me?"

This was going to be A LOT worse than I'd thought.

"Am I not treating you how you feel like you need to be, because if so, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I decided I wasn't giving you all of me. All that you deserve. I wanted to tell you tonight that I plan to step up our relationship and really show you how much I care about you."

Shit. There weren't many words to describe how awkward the silence was between me and Rob after he told me all that, but even after listening, I still knew that I wanted to break off our relationship. I think he sensed this, and probably much more because the next thing he said was: "You and that Damien guy slept together, didn't you?"

I told him that we had.

"And you plan to start something with him?"

"I don't know," I said as I sat down in the next chair. "I can't really—I don't know. What happened wasn't what I expected."

Rob looked at me with a puzzled expression. "I don't understand."

"It's not something we should discuss." At this point, I just wanted him to leave, but Rob didn't look like he was going anywhere.

"After all I just told you ... help me know at least what's going on."

The clock above my microwave chimed 10:30pm. I'd made a stupid decision to try to break this off with Rob tonight. What had I been thinking? Rob crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, waiting for me to tell him. I got up for a glass of wine.

"I went over there last night knowing we would have sex."

"How did you know?" Rob asked.

"I just knew. And we did. And even now, when I think about it, I know it will happen again, and I don't think I could continue our relationship while having a sexual one with him as well."

Rob shook his head and stood. I thought he was going to leave, but instead he got himself a glass of wine. "We've always been honest about screwing around. You fuck Adrienne more than you fuck me. I don't get it. What's so different about Damien? You said he treated you like shit."

I didn't want to answer his question, but I felt I owed it to him. "I can't explain it, but I know that the things Damien and I will be doing will make you less interested in me."

Rob's expression turned suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Tell me, Felicia. What do you mean?" I'd never seen Rob angry before, but he was now.

My breathing was ragged, both excited and nervous. Reliving the previous night was somewhat thrilling, talking about it even more so. "Damien had a friend there last night. They both fucked me at the same time. They came all over me several times after fucking me in every position they could. I—I loved it, Rob. I know you'll think I'm sick or whatever, but I loved it. When I lost my virginity to Damien, he dominated me, spanked me, used me ... and I enjoyed it just as much then, too. I guess I'm just programmed to need a certain kind of sex."

Rob regarded me with disgust. For a fleeting moment, I saw myself as he saw me, but I also remembered how much pleasure I'd experienced. He stood again, pushing his glass away as though even the wine in my house was contaminated with filth.

"You let two guys fuck you at once. Do you even know who the other guy was?"

The thrill in my voice was gone, and all that remained was a hollow embarrassment. Perhaps even a fake embarrassment that I knew Rob wanted to see. "I—I think so, but I couldn't see him."

"You need help. Goodbye, Felicia." He threw open the door to my apartment before I could say anything.

"Wait!" I called to him as he left, but he didn't stop.

The door slammed shut, and I thought I should cry, but I didn't feel sad. Only relief.