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Pose for the Camera
Kiarra M. Taylor
1
Kelendria
(Kelly)
Balancing my checkbook was starting to give me anxiety. Mainly because lately, nothing was going in, yet everything was still coming out. Sighing, I wrote out a check to cover the next month’s rent for my over-priced one-bedroom apartment. It was public knowledge that living in San Jose—downtown, specifically—was extremely expensive, but I hadn’t given any thought to that when I relocated here from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, several years ago. At the time, I had a steady, well-paying job as a model for a popular West Coast-based clothing company that had since closed its doors. Hence, the dwindling bank account.
I stuffed the checks into their respective envelopes in preparation of being mailed tomorrow, then snuggled up on the couch with my Kindle. Resuming my place in a steamy interracial romance novel, I let myself get lost in the story because today was my last day of freedom. Tomorrow, I would have to suck it up, put my dreams of modeling aside, and start the hunt for a nine-to-five job.
Wonder if In-N-Out Burger is still hiring?
My feet ached and I was sweating profusely. It was only the end of April, yet the NorCal weather was already in summer mode.
I ducked inside the first air-conditioned coffee shop I came across and ordered an iced coffee that I definitely couldn’t afford. Sinking into a booth, I let out a groan of exhaustion. I’d hit every hotel, burger joint, and bar on North First Street—one of Downtown San Jose’s busiest streets—and all I had to show for it was poofy hair and throbbing feet.
Something had to give.
Pulling out my phone, I sipped the iced drink, praying it would cool me down quickly. I was scrolling down my timeline on Facebook when I saw it: a sponsored ad from Sienna Turner, a popular interracial romance author, whose page I liked. Normally, I would just screenshot the ad, then go and buy whatever book was being advertised for my Kindle. But this time, the author wasn’t broadcasting a book, she was spreading the word about an open casting call for cover models.
I moved the phone closer to my face. The ad read:
Multi-author boxed set seeking two cover models for a photography catalogue. This boxed set is in the BWWM (Black Woman White Man) romance genre, and the models (one female, one male) should reflect that. All shoots will take place in San Francisco, California, over a period of three weeks. Airfare & hotel accommodations will be provided if you are not local. Payment to be discussed upon extension of offer.
To apply, send headshots/portfolio and credentials to the below email address. Bonus points if you tell us about your favorite book as well! Please email requested materials to [emailprotected].
I smiled so hard I was certain every tooth in my mouth was on display. This felt like kismet. Like it was meant for me to see this advertisement at this exact time. Like I needed to hurry up and get home and apply.
So, that was exactly what I did.
Later that night, my phone dinged, signaling the arrival of a new email. I jumped up and grabbed it, finding a reply from the email address [emailprotected]. The message read:
Hello, Kelendria (what a beautiful name, by the way),
We loved the e-portfolio you sent over, as well as the paragraph about your favorite book!The Harry Potter series is a favorite of some of ours as well.
Congratulations, you have advanced to the second to last step in the process! For this step, please record a video of yourself (we realize that this sounds decidedly creepy,but it’s not like that at all! We solemnly swear that we are NOT up to no good.), no longer than 3-5 minutes in length. You can talk about anything you like in the video, but please make sure the lighting is good, so we can see how you look from different angles.
Thank you,
Authors of the Steamy Swirls Boxed Set
The request did seem creepy as hell. Briefly, I considered the possibility that this could be a scam. That the person, or persons, behind this wanted me to record a video of myself that they would then sell to strangers to jack off to. But then, I remembered my dwindling bank account and decided it was worth the risk. This job could be my segue into the cover model business. With independent publishing being as lucrative and popular as it was, I could potentially earn a decent, steady living once again. Goodbye, checkbook anxiety.
I leapt from the couch, taking my phone into the bathroom with me. After throwing a bit of water on my hair to give my curls more definition, and putting on a dab of red lipstick, I was almost ready to record. Almost. First, I had to figure out what I was going to talk about. The email hadn’t been specific about that.
Sighing, I decided to just wing it. My friends back home always said I had the gift of gab, so it was time to put that theory to the test.
I propped the phone up on the sink and stood directly in front of it. The lighting in my cubbyhole bathroom was perfect, making my skin glow like I was wearing bronzer all over my body, when, in reality, the only makeup I had on was a little lipstick.
“Hello,” I began. “My name is Kelendria Marie Towers, and I go by Kelly. I’m twenty-four years old and originally from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (go Steelers!), but currently, I reside in San Jose, California.”
My mind went blank and all I could do was smile awkwardly at the camera for a few seconds.
“Um…I...first started modeling when I was sixteen. I’ve done back-to-school campaigns for just about every department store chain you can think of, and most recently, I was modeling for a NorCal-based clothing line…”
Suddenly, my words failed me and I cleared my throat to cover up how nervous I was. Get it together, Kelly. They didn’t need a recap of my resumé, not when I’d already sent that along with my e-portfolio.
“I-I think I would be a great fit for this boxed set catalogue because I’m an avid reader and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read a book with a diverse cast of characters and wished there was a model I could identify with on the front cover. Representation in books matters, yes, but on the covers as well. As a darker skinned African American woman, it took me a long time to love my skin color and I’m certain there are other little girls out there like me, wanting to see themselves represented on a book’s cover, so they can love the skin they’re in, too.”
The longer I talked, the more confident I grew. I was speaking the truth, after all.
“This opportunity would be more than just a paycheck for me; it would be a childhood dream coming to fruition. Thank you all so much for the chance to make an old dream come true.” Waving awkwardly, I leaned in and pressed the button to stop recording. Before I could replay it and criticize myself, I attached the video to the email and hit send.
Now the waiting began.
