Chapter 92: <Chapter 91>
“…Niels, I’ve gotta go now. Take care. I will call you later.”
Click.
Silje hung up the phone and sighed quietly.
She suddenly couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was suffocating. Dizzy. The room was spinning all around her.
She could hear his voice inside her head again — Silje tried so hard to forget him.
She made sure not to think of him at all, but he was suddenly back in her head.
‘Silje…!’
She trembled. Her body hurt like it was going into shock.
Silje couldn’t move at all.
“That boy with dark hair… After you left, he came to my store every day acting crazy. He looked like he lost his mind, then suddenly, he stopped coming. I don’t know what happened to him. Did he by chance find you in New York?”
She tried so hard to forget him.
The dark-haired boy.
Silje bit her lips till they started to bleed. She shook her head desperately.
She wanted to escape him.
She wanted to escape this situation.
At the moment, all she had was a cheap apartment that she couldn’t afford, but she was going to make it. She was going to do whatever it took to survive.
***
Silje woke up in the middle of the night when she heard a loud siren. It was a persistent sound and it seemed to be very close.
Her apartment building was on W11 Street. It was old and worn, and Silje’s unit was a studio without a separate bedroom.
All she had inside was a shelf and a bed with her checker-patterned blanket.
The sound of the siren sounded ominous. Silje pushed the cheap curtain to look outside and she found the red ambulance light.
Was it the old lady who lived next door?
No.
The next day, Silje learned that it was a model that lived downstairs. She had met her a few times in the elevator before. The woman was from Eastern Europe, over 180 cm, and had deep red hair. Silje always thought she looked very sad.
She learned that the red-haired model killed herself after years of not getting any decent modeling gigs. She hung herself in the bathroom and the next day, it was all over the internet.
When she saw the articles, Silje wanted to cry but no tears came out. Was it because this seemed like the story of her own life? Silje felt sad but she didn’t want to think about it.
In her silent room, Silje turned around to stare at her bathroom. Her apartment was empty except for her own deep despair. It was only for a few minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.
As if she was dreaming, Silje started walking toward her bathroom when the phone rang. She wanted to ignore it, but it kept ringing and ringing.
“Hello?”
When she finally answered dryly, an unfamiliar voice said to her hurriedly, “Silje? There is a photoshoot and we need someone right away. Are you available? We are looking for someone who can come immediately. Are you listening?”
Silence fell. Silje continued to stare at the bathroom with her dark eyes, but she looked away and replied, “Yes. I can go… I will go right now.”
Click.
Silje hung up and sighed quietly. She had no choice.
She couldn’t go back to her bloody past or her frozen home in Norway.
All she could do now was look ahead and go forward. There was no going back.
***
The place her agency sent her was a studio in Soho. Most places in New York looked similar to Silje, but she found Soho to be different with its artistic and bohemian feel.
It was a sunny day, so the street vendors sold various items including accessories and picture frames. There was a market open today and she could hear music from different directions.
[We keep quiet
Cause we’re dead if they know
So close your eyes…]
She had a dark moment at her apartment just a minute ago but after walking under the warm sun and hearing beautiful music, Silje felt lucky.
She couldn’t believe what she was thinking to do at her place.
But the phone call saved her and Silje felt like she got a second chance.
She was only filling in, but she still got a chance to experience a photoshoot at a real studio for a fashion magazine.
Silje took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Everything was going to be fine.
She consoled herself gently and walked up the stairs to the studio. Her stomach growled from hunger because she hadn’t eaten anything all day, but she still felt good.
“No! I don’t like that expression. Try to look more dramatic and turn your head this way. Yes, just like that! Do that again!”
Click, click. The sounds of the camera greeted her. The photoshoot was already underway with another model.
Bright lights, noisy fans, and loud music. The place was crowded with a photographer, models, hair and makeup artists, and assistants.
As Silje opened the door, a bell rang and people glanced at her direction briefly. But they quickly lost interest and went back to the photoshoot.
At the entrance counter, a tall young woman in black blouse and jeans asked, “Are you a model?”
Silje nodded.
“Yes. I am supposed to do a photoshoot today.”
“Hold on.”
The woman quickly went through her schedule book and asked, “Which agency? Marilyn? Or Trump?”
“Rose Valley. I was told that I was needed right away.”
“Oh, Rose Valley.”
The woman seemed to lose interest. She pointed at the lockers.
“Go over there and change into your designated outfit. Your shoot will start right away.”
Silje quietly followed her order.
The studio was filled with music, and slowly, she looked around. She saw various dresses and high heels. Hair and makeup artists were working busily with various models.
Silje’s outfit today was a black satin blouse, jeans, and masculine black boots. The boots looked vintage with zippers, rough scratches, and sparkling stones embedded in them.
After she changed, her hair and makeup were worked on.
The theme today was 80’s pop stars. Silje’s hair was curled to make it look fluffy. With smoky eyes, pale lips, and a subtle blush, she looked very different. Her makeup artist said to her, “It’s funny how a person looks very different just by getting a different eyebrow shape. You look like an Asian warrior. Like Mulan?”
Silje looked at herself in the mirror. Studying her long black hair and pale face, she became confused. Her lacy blouse was very feminine, but the rest of the outfit was masculine. The contrast looked perplexing, and no matter how hard she thought, Silje couldn’t figure out how to express this look. What kind of poses should she go for? What kind of facial expressions?
Before she could figure it out, she was called upon. The studio was very hectic, and people were yelling everywhere.
“Get her makeup fixed. Her eyeliner is smearing. And turn off the fans! The shape of her hair is being ruined! Turn them off right now!”
Silje was ushered along in front of the camera and the photoshoot started right away.
“Hello there. What’s your name?”
“Silje. Silje Kim.”
“Oh, Silje? Ok.”
The photographer politely asked her and smiled, but it was clear that he didn’t care. He seemed to forget her name immediately as he continued to smoke and adjust his camera.
“Alright, then let’s start. Try to pose however you like first.”
And with that, the camera began to flash sharply and constantly.