Lyrical Lights

by Maria La Serra

  “Beautiful, perfect, great … keep doing that,” Simon said.

  Chick che … flash.

  Everything was going well until she showed up.

  I would be lying if I said I was surprised to see her again. After witnessing what had happened yesterday, I would have been crazy to think she would go quietly.

  “What are you doing here, Vanessa?” Gloria met her at the doorway, trying to block her from coming in farther. “I thought Simon made it clear to you we won’t be using you for this shoot. You need to go home.”

  Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, including Simon, who now placed his camera down on the floor.

  “I need to talk to Simon.” Vanessa plowed through Gloria, making her way toward Simon.

  “Vanessa, I’m working … please go home.” Simon attempt to take her by the arm, but she jerked away.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re not returning my calls.” Vanessa’s eyes only focused on Simon, disregarding everyone else in the room. Her uncombed long brown hair clung to her bare face, and her sweatshirt and jeans looked stale. I wondered if Simon was the reason for her condition.

  “I’m not doing this in front of everyone. Let’s take this outside,” Simon said, his head slightly tilted down. When Vanessa looked away, her eyes settled on me, and her face went to a paler white.

  “Who the fuck is she? Is she taking my place? I can’t believe this … are you fucking her now?” Her eyes felt like daggers, her long finger pointing right at me. “A fucken retard?”

  “Oi, that’s enough.” Simon’s agitation reached its boiling point. “Leave Mable out of this. It’s me you have a problem with.”

  This was not the first time someone direct their hate without a good reason for it. Though I wasn’t new to the drama, I’d once lived with two other models, and there was never a shortage of melodrama in the apartment. Still, this was something else altogether. I’d been called a retard before, and I’d thought, as an adult, I would stop attracting bully behavior. It’s funny how people seem to focus only on what makes you different instead of seeing the person you are. But I wouldn’t let her get under my skin or engage, because I wasn’t the one with the problem.

  “I will not allow you to come in here and abuse the people I care about. You lost this gig on your own merit, so own up to it … go home.” This time he caught her by the arm, and she didn’t resist. She stopped halfway and turned back.

  “Hey, bitch, watch out for this guy. He will screw you over like he did with me,” she yelled out, flipping me the bird, sending everyone in the room into a shuffle.

  “She’s delusional,” Noah said, when they were out of sight. We stood there, all fifteen of us pretending not to eavesdrop on the shouting match outside the door. I couldn’t help wondering, what made Vanessa so out of control? And had Simon played a part in it?

  “Are you okay, hon?”

  I looked up and met Noah’s velvety brown eyes.

  “Oh, I’m fine.” I wasn’t, and I couldn’t bring myself to smile.

  “Don’t take it personally. That girl … she’s got a lot of issues.” His mouth slightly hung in midair. “Look, what she said back there, making Simon out to be a jerk. It’s not what you think.”

  I nodded. I didn’t know why Noah felt compelled to clarify. Nothing was going on between Simon and me. Whether what Vanessa had said was true made no difference. But I felt something. Vanessa’s attack had triggered heavy emotions. Even if I knew her anger wasn’t intentionally directed at me, it didn’t make my feelings less real.

  My eyes caught the camera resting on the floor, and something came to mind. I’d once read somewhere that there is a spiritual belief that taking a photograph steals a person’s soul. After witnessing Vanessa’s behavior, I had to question it. Vanessa was a model at the top of her game, and I guessed something must have happened that got her caught in a downward spiral. Who knew— maybe the business had stolen Vanessa’s soul. I felt it in her eyes. Past the anger and the jealousy, there was an unmistakable essence of loss.

  The lights are so bright, and just like a moth to a flame, the outcome seems inevitable.

  “Oh shit. I’m so sorry … I didn’t mean to walk in on you.” Simon diverted his eyes away from me. “I thought you were dressed.” He had come into the back room, catching me in the middle of getting ready to go home, and I made no effort to cover up. I was only glad my undergarments matched, and that they were half-decent.

  “It’s alright.”

  I felt good in my skin, and you had to, to be in this line of work. But I found it endearing the way Simon was showing signs of embarrassment.

  “Is there something you wanted to do over?” I asked, pulling on my light wash jeans, thinking the shoot hadn’t gone so well in the second half. After Simon got Vanessa to leave, he’d come back in the room like nothing happened, but his demeanor had changed. He went from being playful to tight-lipped on the set. Simon couldn’t even meet my eyes, which was hard, since we were still shooting. I understood. He was exposed, his dirty laundry out for everyone to see. That was probably why the crew didn’t make a big deal about it, which made me believe either this had happened before, or they didn’t want to agonize him any further.

  “Ah, no … No, everything’s great. I was heading out with the gang to the bar across the street. You’re more than welcome to come along.”

  He still couldn’t bring himself to look my way, and my smile widened. Where had the overconfident man I met at the Little Orange gone? I couldn’t say he appeared different from the man I’d first met—just a little less self-assured. Maybe the dynamics of our relationship had changed. Whatever it was, it only made me like Simon more, in a platonic kind of way. Or at least that’s what I keep reminding myself.

  “Are you always this well behaved?” I asked, sliding on my black bomber jacket.

  “What?”

  “You have a half-naked girl in front of you, and you haven’t attempted to sneak a glance.”

  He took a second to reply. “I’m always a gentleman … when I need to be.”

  I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the smile in his voice. I rather enjoyed these innuendos between us. I grabbed my purse and secured the long strap across my chest. I’m taking no chances this time. If anyone wanted to take my satchel, they would have to take me along with it.

  “You could turn around now. I promise not to scandalize you any further,” I said, walking closer to him. “So now that we officially work together, we have to keep this strictly professional,” I teased. Was it wrong that I wanted to provoke him to cross the line?

  “It would be best. Well, you had your chance.” His lips curved slightly, the look in his eyes making me think he wanted to say something more, but it remained unsaid. Though, if I wanted to, I knew I could change his mind.

  But I had rules of my own. Never chase after a guy—ever. I was interested in them until they weren’t. So I dismissed, deleted, and moved on to another horizon. I swept my hair to the side, placing the right hearing aid in as Simon stood there watching.

  “How long have you had them?”

  “Since I was a kid,” I replied.

  “Can you hear without them?” I like the softness in his eyes and the fact that he was curious about it, about me. This was more than just a disability; it was a part of me.

  “Yes, I can, only the sound comes to me muffled. It’s like being under the water, and the aids help filter the sounds.” A smile grew on my face. “Do you know what the best part about having these things?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I just have to take them out, and I don’t have to hear your jabbering, Walter,” I said.

  He laughed, and he pointed at me, his hands fluttering across his face.

  “What did you say?” I giggled, amazed he knew ASL.

  “You don’t know sign language?”

  “No, I was raised in the hearing world. So there was never a need to learn.
”

  “To be honest, I’m not fluent, but I know some signs. My cousin Jack is deaf,” Simon said. He was always surprising me. The more things I discovered about him, the more I wanted to know. I wish I had more time.

  “Shall we go?” I asked, knowing everyone was waiting for us. I didn’t want to give any more reason for them to gossip today.

  “Hold up, what’s that you’re wearing?” Simon asked as I walked past him. I shook my head, not connecting.

  “I thought you didn’t listen to seventies music,” he said, taking a second glance.

  “I don’t.”

  “So why on earth are you wearing a Black Sabbath T-shirt?” He chuckled.

  “Because I liked the print.” I tugged at the cotton fabric I’d found it at a thrift shop. Simon gave me a cocky smile just before he distanced himself from me.

  “Hey, are you going to tell me what you signed?” I asked.

  “I signed … you’re a cute and funny bird. But if you call me Walter one more time, I will kiss the hell out of you,” he said, over his shoulder, just before disappearing around the corner.

  Simon and I were the last to arrive at the Liquored bar, and I could feel all eyes on us. Just like I had imagined, we had gotten the rumor mill started. But I didn’t want to live up to the cliché of the model who slept with the photographer to get the job. I was not that kind of girl. I knew I shouldn’t care what other people think, but I did.

  “What are you having?” Simon turned to me.

  “I’ll have a vodka cranberry—but wait … Hey, hold on, I’ll give you the money.” I was reaching into my purse, but Simon put his hand over mine, and something inside me fluttered.

  “No, it’s on me. After what you did for us, let me at least buy you a drink.”

  I sat next to Noah, watching Simon walk over to the bar.

  “Hey … can I ask you something?” I continued when Noah nodded. “How long have you known Simon?”

  “We’ve been friends for a while, give or take five years. Why?”

  Those past two days I’d gotten to know Noah, trusting him enough to divulge my personal struggles. We later discovered we both had our share of mommy issues. My mother had been absent from my life since the age of six, and Noah’s mom couldn’t come to terms with him being gay. They hadn’t spoken to each other in the past two years.

  I felt we shared enough that we could speak freely, so I asked the question that had been scratching me all day.

  “What’s the deal with Simon and Vanessa?” I said. In one movement, I gathered my hair into a bun.

  “Oh, honey, don’t go there.” Noah swirled the mint leaves in his glass with a clear stir stick.

  “Were they an item?” I frowned. After what I’d witnessed, I felt compelled to know. Maybe Vanessa was one of Simon’s scorned lovers. Simon had once told me he never got involved with people he worked with. I wondered if she was the reason for his rule.

  “Truthfully, it’s a hell of a story … Too long and complicated to get into it. Get my drift?” He knitted his brows together.

  No one was willing to talk about it, and I had to respect that, but it only made me want to know more.

  “Now it’s my turn to ask a question.” Noah smiled like he knew he would put me on the spot.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you involved, or … contemplating getting involved?”

  “With Simon? No.”

  “Right,” he said. I wouldn’t believe me either if I were him.

  “Why would you say something like that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. The way you look at each other, I guess.”

  I laughed. “Well, we have to. I mean, how else are we supposed to work together?”

  “I’m not talking about what happened in the studio. I’m talking about that night at the Cellar Bar.” He grinned. “You two were mighty cute and cozy.” Noah’s eyes twinkled, which made me wonder who else was watching us that night.

  “Ah, yeah okay, I won’t deny there’s a certain chemistry between us—but it’s strictly professional.” For now. “To be honest, I don’t know Simon that well. But hypothetically … would it be a bad thing?” I tilted my head in Simon’s direction. He stood at the bar, talking to the other model. I observed his body language; he wasn’t into her the way I imagined any man in his right mind would be. Her, on the other hand …

  “It’s not for me to say.” Noah looked into his glass, then his eyes met mine, as if he wanted me to understand something without revealing too much.

  “Simon is very selective in the people he surrounds himself with. He’s the type of guy who’ll give you the shirt off his back, but also the kind of person who can retreat within himself with no warning. He’s got issues he needs to work out, and I don’t think he’s found a way just yet. I want to be honest—because I like you.”

  Noah pushed his glass aside and looked at me.

  “You’re leaving, and Simon travels a lot. I’m not sure how this will work out for you two.”

  I didn’t know why Noah’s words were so disheartening.

  “Honestly, I’m not in the slightest interested in Simon. I mean, he’s an awesome guy, but we wouldn’t have anything in common,” I said, watching Simon from across the room. I felt relieved when I found him alone again.

  All this talk about Simon, but I hadn’t given any thought to my baggage—a messy, worn-out duffel bag with stale clothes. At this point in my life, I could say I was a professional when it came to being rejected.

  We could start at the root of it: my mother was at the top of that list. The runner-up was Marc, my first real boyfriend in college. Things were great until I ruined it by telling him I loved him. Well, I’d never imagined he would break up with me over it. I was a mess for weeks. I had allowed someone to wreck me because I sincerely cared for them. It sounds kind of cruel, doesn’t it? After Marc, I’d never allowed those words to come out again, not to anyone. Yup, that’s baggage for you. I hoped that, miraculously, my dirty laundry would get washed on its own or disappear at customs, but I guessed things couldn’t get resolved on their own. You have to come up with your own resolutions. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready for it yet.

  “Hey, the next time you’re in town, we’ll get together with a couple of mojitos. Maybe I’ll tell you all about it then.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I smiled. Simon came around the table, placing my drink in front of me, but before I could thank him, he raised his glass.

  “Okay, guys, let’s cheers to a fantastic shoot that almost went to shit. I couldn’t have done it without you fuckin’ amazing people, and Mable, thank you for saying yes. It seems you’re always there at the right time.” He glanced down and smiled. It sent chills of excitement throughout my body.

  “Cheers,” everyone yelled, bottles and glasses clicking together.

  Gloria slid into the other chair next to Noah.

  “Hey, you know what I wanted to ask you? How did you keep Elaine away?” Noah said to my cousin.

  “Oh, she was supposed to come, but had a flight out to L.A. at the last minute. She thought there was no need to come since we had everything under control. Little did she know. Anyway, it all worked out fine,” she said, taking a sip from her wineglass.

  “That’s not like her. She puts her nose into everything—like, everything!” Noah said.

  As I sat there listening to their conversation, I remembered that, at one point, during my emptying of the boxes, that there had been a very sophisticated-looking woman who had walked into the room. She had taken one look at me—or, I thought she had— it was hard to tell; she was wearing big sunglasses.

  “She was there,” I interrupted.

  “What?” Gloria peeked her head around Noah to get a better look at me.

  “Yeah, the first day of the shoot. She came in but left before I could ask her anything.”

  “What did she look like?” Gloria asked.

  “Late fifties, Chanel suit, big glasses, and blond p
ageboy haircut.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like Elaine Furstenberg,” Noah said, taking the last sip of his drink.

  “Weird. Why would she leave like that?” Gloria said, looking at both of us.

  “You think she was spying on us?” Noah asked.

  My attention shifted to Simon, who was sitting in front of me, talking to one of the crew. I’m not sure what to make of Simon. At times he seemed hard to read, but I was never afraid of the unknown. While everyone at the table slowly scattered around the room, I found myself alone with Simon. He sat across from me, and we smiled at each other like two kids playing some sort of game.

  “What’s next for you?” I yelled over the loud music.

  He picked up his bottle and chose the seat next to me. “Sorry, what was that?” His leg gently brushed against mine. I wished he would do it again.

  “What’s next on the agenda?”

  “I’ll take some time off. I say that, but I never do.” He smiled. “I wish you could stay.”

  “What?” My heart stirred up, shaking the dust off. Only now, with the sound of Simon’s voice, did it respond.

  “Stay in New York, and we could work together again.”

  I yearned to say yes. What if he meant something more than just for work? This was flat out clairvoyance. I knew how this would play out, and if I stayed Simon would become the biggest rejection of all.

  “You’ve got something special … going at it like an apparatus, full of energy and postures. For a moment I thought I wouldn’t be able to keep up.” He smiled gently before he continued. “It was a real pleasure to shoot you.”

  “That’s very kind, but I’m no different from any other model—”