The woman with glasses leaned forward. “Renee. Why did you come to LA?”
“Now down. Like you’re sad about something small.” LANewGirl.24.04.30.Renee.Rose.Modeling.Audition...
Her leg bounced. The other seven girls in the waiting room were all variations of the same beautiful statue: sharp cheekbones, pouty lips, legs for days. Renee had a small scar above her left eyebrow from a bike accident at twelve. Her nose was slightly asymmetrical. She was five-foot-seven, which they said was too short for runway, but her shoulders were broad from swimming in high school. The woman with glasses leaned forward
The studio was a white void. Seamless paper curved up the wall and across the floor. Three people sat behind a metal table: a man in a black turtleneck who was probably the photographer, a woman with glasses who didn’t smile, and a younger guy typing on a laptop. Like you’re sad about something small
Then she deleted it and wrote: I got it.
Renee had prepared for this. She’d watched YouTube videos. Suck in your stomach. Relax your jaw. Neck long, like a string is pulling you up from the crown of your head.
“You’re the last one. Follow me.”