adorian callestano was not the easiest person to work with, something she was evidently aware of; the tiny northwards quirk of her mouth whenever she issued instructions she had scribbled on her sticker-clad clipboard was telltale.

the streamer and self-proclaimed media influencer was known for her lively, brash and somewhat crude persona, a direct antithesis to her appearance.

with her rounded hazel eyes, eclectic fashion sense, a smattering of lighthearted tattoos embellishing various parts of her person (the young woman had a dinosaur on her hip, there was no defending her) and a penchant for the colour green, the assumption would be that she was the very essence of a pinterest girl. fatal mistake.

you, as a model, had never worked with anyone so infuriatingly charming (adjectives could be swapped around, however).

the brand sponsoring you deemed it a momentous endeavor to bridge the chasm between generations by harnessing the marketing prowess of one astutely attuned to contemporary trends. and yes, you were sure adorian could do her job galliantly, but it did not make your life any easier, considering that she had the mannerisms of a college fratboy who had been recently disavowed.

"look, not many people would have the balls to work with you lot." adorian remarked with a wry roll of her eyes, subtly flipping off regulus down the line as she passed in the brightly lit wardrobe where preparations for a commercial shoot were underway.

today, her untamed chestnut curls were secured with a dainty white ribbon, her bleached bangs casting a shadow over the faint scar marring her brow-- a souvenir from being attacked by a camera. her hair changed every week, a testament to her mood.

"is there supposed to be glitter in your hair? i thought the agency said haute couture, not hot mess." she snickered as she adjusted your collar. her tone was rather insulting, but with a lazy cadence under her untraceable accent that lessened the sting.