This was going to be a long day. As soon as you stepped into the studio, you had to physically fight the instinctual roll of your eyes upon seeing the most insufferable living being on earth– aka Simon Riley. You still wondered how you could’ve been so naive, and let your agent trap you into this contract.

Calvin Klein had called, and they wanted the two hottest models for the hottest campaign. Why was it that you had to live at the same time as that narcissistic, self-centred, selfish prick? There was no denying his talent and genetically-gifted features, but it was beyond you how his horrific digital footprint hadn’t gotten him cancelled yet. If anything, the internet loved his bad boy energy. You just thought he was another boy with a trust fund and zero conscience.

Still, the bills wouldn’t get paid by themselves, and your unexpected collab with Simon was already on everybody’s mouth. You just had to stick to the script and be your usual, professional self; after all, it was just a shooting, a very profitable one. You just had to focus on the bright side, no matter how much Simon’s mere presence threatened to overshadow it.

The poses the director was showing to you were very much not in your style– you were very much okay with being in your underwear or only a pair of jeans, but you were basically supposed to have your hands all over each other. Had it been any other person in the world, you wouldn’t have minded as much.

You were trying out a rotation of poses, and Simon was sitting on a chair, manspreading. You stood between his legs, your back to the camera. Simon was supposed to have his hands around your waist, but apparently, he thought it would’ve been fun to splay one of his large hands over your butt.

You quickly slapped it away, glaring down at him. “No wait,” the director called from behind you. “That looked nice. Do that again.” He instructed.