STUNNERS. Chapter 2

 

PAMELA

 

 

 

Finally, after half an hour of waiting in line, it was Pamela’s turn for the casting,

  ‘Thank God!’ she thought with relief. It had been a massive cattle call. There had been about 30 preening, sniping, bitching models in line before her, and worst of all, next in line had been her arch enemy, Lorna King. The red headed, pneumatic, uber whore, who had stolen the love of her life. Danny. Before all that happened Pamela had been envious of her confidence and overt sexuality. Lorna was gorgeous. And, yes, admittedly, any red blooded male confronted with that much raw, brazen, vitality would be hard put not to rip her clothes off. But Danny had been everything to Pamela. So now, she loathed the silly cow.

 There she was, smirking snidely and talking behind her hand to the nodding, bovine Bimbo next to her, who brayed with laughter through a massive horsey mouth every time Lorna said anything to her. These two really gave Models a bad name, epitomizing the whole “dumb model” cliché perfectly. Lorna had relentlessly pursued Danny, till she got him. Pam thought about him for a moment.

Danny. He was beautiful, and that had been the problem, because he knew it.

she’d learnt some valuable lessons.

1. Never date a male model. It’s that simple. There aint a bathroom mirror in the world, big enough for the both of you.

2. Their ego can’t take you being more successful than them. It’s a known fact that male models are second class citizens in the fashion world, and they know it, they also know more often than not, that you are getting paid two times more than them. How very emasculating.

And 3.  They simply can’t keep their dick in their pants for long enough to be faithful to you, no matter how much they profess their undying love. Because, as second class citizens, they need constant reassurance that they’ve “still got it”…whatever “It ” might be.

 So, next, It was Pamela’s turn for the casting. She got out her compact mirror and checked her self, her red gold hair hung in perfect waves down her back and her skin was like buttermilk, soft, creamy, flawless. only a hint of mascara was needed to open up her eyes. Her name was called out. putting her compact away and grabbing her book she stood and straightened her skintight dress. She had to walk past Lorna to get to the casting suite, she saw her stick out her leg to trip pam up. Pretending to stumble over it she gave her a good kick in the shin, and hit her in the head with her model book too.

  ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry!’ smirked Pam.

  ‘ Watch where you’re going idiot’ hissed Lorna her face all scrunched up with spite and hatred.

  ‘careful love, you’ll get wrinkles frowning like that’ pam retorted, then skipped into the casting.

in the suite there were three people, a thin pale young man behind the camera, a pretty, blonde woman on the sofa and a tall dark haired man on the phone with his back turned.

  ‘Hi, I’m Pamela Kane’  she chirped, handing her book to the woman, who started to flip through it.

  ‘Hi Pamela’ she said with an on-off smile, obviously she was beginning to lose the will to live after seeing so many girls.

 The studio was a small box like room, all painted blue. It smelled like new carpet and filming equipment. There was a black cross, gaffer taped to the floor, by the wall .

  ‘go stand on the cross over there and tell us you’re name and agent to the camera, please’ said the woman smiling. The other man was talking loudly on the phone now. 

  ‘Look Tommy, I don’t care what it takes, we NEED that location, I’ll pay double to secure it.’

With that he hung up and turned around, looking straight at her. He was a handsome man, with dark heavy lidded eyes that tilted slightly at the edges like they were smiling. And a full, sensual, almost cruel looking mouth, that did smile as he looked her over lazily. Taking her hand, he shook it firmly.

  ‘Hello, I’m James, the director, you are?…’

  ‘This is Pamela Kane’ said the woman from the sofa before she could say a word.

  ‘She’s the one we requested to see.’

Surprised, Pam grinned, The woman winked back.

  ‘Ahh yes, i remember, from the “Agent Provocateur ” campaign.’ He said with a gleam in his smiling eyes.

Impressed that they knew her work, Pamela blushed slightly.

  ‘Now Pamela, i want you to tell us a funny story, maybe your most embarrassing moment or something like that…’

On the spot. she wasn’t prepared. Usually, for commercial castings one had to improvise, and do something stupid, like crawl around on the floor pretending to be a cat for a shoe company, simulate orgasmic pleasure because the shampoo smells so good, or cry with happiness because the delivery company got the gift there on time. Pam often thought the casting directors were sick bastards who got off on seeing how far they could push work hungry models. She wondered if they took home the tapes at the end of the day to laugh at with their friends, poking fun at the really ham or bad ones. There were such arseholes in the business.

Grasping desperately for something to say, any kind of story to tell, Pam said the first thing that came into her head, she really couldn’t believe she was actually telling three complete strangers in such vivid detail the most excruciatingly embarrassing moment of her entire life but once she started She couldn’t stop, needless to say, she told the story well, and animatedly, then she left. Her, almost dying of shame and them, clutching their sides with tears of mirth in their eyes.