Douazecisipatru || Invisible

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Hey guys,

This chapter could use some love, so please make sure to vote.

- Shar

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"Boyfriends, husbands and fiancés aren't allowed on set. So be good." Salvadore said, before rushing off somewhere to give orders.

It was abundantly clear why. Currently, his significant other stood on a platform in the center of the large studio in nothing but a sheer body suit decked in crystals. They'd given her matching-colored undergarments, but he could still see the outline of her more conservative areas.

This is not at all what I had in mind, he thought. She may as well be naked.

When he'd allowed Mila to work with Salvadore, he thought it would be a few photos, maybe one or two outfits. Instead, they'd walked into a circus. A team of twenty filled the studio. Paolo tested camera equipment, while several assistants took measurements. Others were on the phone, or hand-sewing gems onto delicate-looking fabric.

Along the wall, there were mannequins with different sparkly outfits waiting to be fitted. Some were dresses, others body suits in different textured fabrics. Most of it, beyond his comprehension. When she stepped out in the first nonexistent outfit, she mouthed "Sorry," and kept shooting him "Don't be mad," looks. However, as more people entered her peripheral, she became too busy to pay attention to him.

Accessories and jewelry also weren't allowed, so he was literally holding her purse, watch and ring while standing in the back of the room. It was odd for him to be on the sidelines in a business setting, but here, he was invisible. All the fuss was over Mila, the one person he didn't like sharing with others.

"Thanks again for doing this." Salvadore said, making his way back over to chat with him.

"No, thank you." he said.

He meant it. Salvadore adding Mila as a model to his exhibit gave her more legitimacy in their circles. No longer would he have to suffer questions of "What does she do?" or "Where does she come from?" The title of "Model," squashed the noise and judgement. No one batted an eye when a rich man walked with a model on his arm.

Paolo seamlessly directed the entire production, while speaking with Mila excitedly in Portuguese. Expecting this, he'd brushed up as best he could. Long ago, when they were different people, they'd studied each other's languages. It'd been fun challenging each other. Nothing like their relationship now.

Though his understanding of the language was shaky, he still picked up a few things, Paulo was saying things like, "What happened to your curls? I wanted to use them for a look!" but mostly, complaining about Seattle.

Even though it was for work, he didn't like how close Paolo was to her. Especially the way he made her laugh. How every now and then, he would whisper in her ear and look over at him. He was pretty sure they were just playing around, but it still made his blood boil.

"You really didn't have to come along." Salvadore said. "These sessions are going to be all-nighters. Paolo won't be done with the prep for at least another hour. Probably longer, with the way those two are gabbing on."

"Are you kidding?" he replied. "I'm not going to miss seeing how the sauce is made." Also, there was no way in hell he was letting her out of his sight around these two.

When they first arrived at the studio, he caught Paulo and Salvadore exchange glances with each other, like they had spoken at length about Mila. It made him glad they were on better terms and hadn't fought recently.

"She looks so chic." Salvadore said. "You have to be proud. I mean, I knew she had it in her, but wow."

If he could get over the nudity, he might be able to appreciate it more, but his ears were too hot to pay attention to anything else.

"You know, she could be successful at magazine work. It might be a little late to start, but with social media these days, modeling is so much more diverse. If you want, I can connect you with a talent manager?"

Absolutely not, he wanted to say. But he couldn't be so rude.

"I don't think it's her thing." he said. "She's pretty shy, and enjoys her whole corporate thing."

Salvadore grinned.

"What?" he said.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is this for you right now?" Salvadore must have picked up on his strained body language.

"About a six." he replied. More like an eight.

"This is why we typically don't allow men on shoots." he said. "Especially rich ones."

"Why?"

"They don't like people touching their girlfriends, and are more likely to deck a staff member since they're used to paying people off. It only ends up making the production look unprofessional."

"Well, you have no worries here." he said. "Tell me about this piece?" He hoped a change of subject would stave his annoyance.

"It's a live art installation series." Salvadore said. "People, well women, becoming objects. Mila will be the chandelier. The team measuring and dressing her right now is from a fashion house in London. They've made exclusive pieces for this exhibition. She will be styled in couture and posed in different positions captured on video."

"Kind of like a hologram?"

"Exactly." Salvadore replied. "The different outfits and positions will create multiple-styles of chandeliers. I was inspired by the one in the theatre."

"Salvadore." he said. "That's really brilliant. You are brilliant!"

"Please don't say." Salvadore said. His tone heavy. "It is garbage right now. I'm not sure it's going to work."

It humored him that no matter how successful Salvadore was, he still fell victim to artistic angst.

"If you don't mind me asking, why is Paulo doing most of the directing?"

"We made an agreement." Salvadore said. "In order to get him to stop whining, I promised if he directed this exhibit himself, he can debut a piece of his work at my show. With each year that passes, it's becoming more and more challenging for me to focus on certain details."

"That's some promise." he said. "Is Paulo talented enough for his work to stand next to yours?"

"Oh yes." Salvadore replied. "In truth. I don't know how I would have managed without him these last few years."

He knew the feeling. Without Olga and Raul, he didn't know what he would do. Thanks to their support, he'd paid the Thibodaux family back every cent. To keep things cordial, he'd even sent a nice vintage of Chateau Margaux.

Drawing the money from their emergency fund made him want to lay into Mila more to do her job at HSG, however, he was hindered. He couldn't have her to caving under too much pressure, and now, her body was regularly on display. He would have to get creative to work around the new circumstances.

He was starting to long for the day when things would be less complicated. One day, hopefully soon, they would be gone and away from this place, to somewhere quiet and unassuming. A place he wouldn't have to walk on eggshells just to have peace in his life. Where they could move forward together with life's next steps. He was growing weary of looking over his shoulder.

It was late. Well after two in the morning, and they'd just left the building to head home. He'd driven them in the Benz, giving Raul the evening off.

"I'm sorry." Mila apologized. "I had no idea what they were going to put me in. I couldn't say no."

"It's not your fault." he replied. "I'm the reason you're doing this in the first place."

She seemed relieved by his understanding, as he pulled out of the lot onto the road.

Almost immediately, he noticed something was off. As best he could, he eyed his surroundings while keeping focus on the road. He couldn't identify anything wrong. It was just a feeling. 

Maybe he was imagining it, but in his gut, he knew something wasn't right.

They were being watched.























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