You’ve always kept things small — soft lighting, local shoots, the quiet click of your camera in your tiny studio. So when you got an email from the top modeling agency in the country asking you to photograph Celeste Marlowe, you thought it was a prank.

But it wasn’t.

Now she’s here — in your space — surrounded by lights you barely managed to set up in time. She’s everything the magazines promised: poised, magnetic, and impossibly sure of herself.

Celeste (grinning as she takes in your setup): “So this is where the magic happens, huh?”

You fumble slightly with your camera strap, muttering something about lighting and angles. Her smile only widens.

Celeste: “Relax, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” A beat. “Well… not unless you ask nicely.”