Turn Me Bad

Chapter 5

Pursuing work independently had not gone down well. Max was back and forth on the phone like a terrier that had retrieved a bone but then couldn’t find its master. The agent simply didn’t understand the capacity for original thinking or the motivation behind it, so he kept ringing as if by sheer repetition he could enable his client to see sense.

But that was hardly going to happen because Benjamin was finding the whole procedure so utterly hilarious. Max was frazzled and a lot more fun as a result.

”So Benjamin, just to confirm, this company is paying you $250 for a two-day job?“ Max labeled for the fifth time.

”That’s right.”

”And you’re saying you don’t want to do the underwear shoot I lined you up for, which is the same price for every hour?”

”That’s right, Max.”

For some reason, the agent’s tactic was not to ask a direct question: Why? But was instead to ask a load of periphery questions and skirt around the issue.

”And you’re going back out to Palmdale for it, you say?”

”Yep.”

”Rather than do this shoot in L.A.?”

”Indeed.”

”But it’s not with the same people?”

”No, a different company entirely.”

”And you’re sure about this?”

”It’s only one job.”

”And I have to tell the underwear guys we have to find them another model?”

”Max, you know very well they can get another model at the click of their fingers. I’m not causing them any problem.”

”But what do I tell them?”

”Anything! Chronic diarrhea if you like; I don’t imagine they’re modeling brown underwear.”

”Kid, I have to confess, I’m struggling to see the angle here,“ Max went on, sounding increasingly put out. Benjamin imagined him furiously stubbing out a cigarette then lighting two more.

”I just think I need to vary my work a bit more,“ he pretended. ”I’ve heard a lot about how all these online podcasts are an ideal way of increasing your profile.”

”Who’s told you that?”

”I might have read it somewhere.”

”If they told you that out in Palmdale then they might be trying to warp your mind.”

”I’ve told you this is a completely different company and I tracked it down myself. Solely on my own initiative.”

That at least was true, though figuring out the motivation for doing so sent Max into a prolonged silence.

”Don’t worry,“ Benjamin added. ”You’ll still get your 12 percent.”

There was another silence while he imagined his agent going wide eyed as he calculated the money he was losing. A total Benjamin couldn’t even be bothered to add up out of curiosity.

”Oh, erm… another call to make. I’ll get back to you.”

Benjamin didn’t buy that. Max never wanted it to appear like he was giving up on a conversation or an argument. He was retreating to think the complication through again, hoping to find a way to talk sense to this strange model who had suddenly developed – of all things – a mind of his own.

That was the last call, however, so Max must have been well and truly stumped. All in all, it meant a very satisfying feeling, but even more satisfying was the surprise ahead that he would give Violet.

No doubt she had thought him a pig to go off like that without waking her. In truth, at the time he couldn’t really decide whether he was a pig or not. It seemed the right thing to do. He liked her sure, but that was no reason to hang around and be all silly and sentimental. They’d had their time so probably best to leave it at that. The drive out to Palmdale was a pleasant one, but too far to bother doing every evening, or even twice a week.

Fu*k that!

Even so, when he got home that day – declining to hang around after the final day of shooting had finished – he nevertheless found himself perusing his laptop in order to track her down.

How many marketing companies in Palmdale could there be? Not too many and it was not too long before Benjamin came across a ”Meet the Team” page that had none other than Violet’s gentle smile grinning back at him.

That was the easy part. What he did next was completely unprecedented, in picking up the phone and having to use his wits to open a door into the firm’s operations. This had always been his agent’s domain and his initial attempts to sweet-talk were stuttering. He had persevered though and of course had the trump card that he was a higher profile model than anyone they had turning up for their little video.

”I hear you have a video shoot this week,“ he had phished, when put through to the third member of staff after the first two had not known what to do with him.

”Oh, sure. The college prospectus,“ the woman replied, unwittingly giving him a route into their operations. He had then proceeded with a story about being inspired to do some kind of work that contributed to the nurturing of California’s best and young new talent. It was predictable that they didn’t seem to get what he was saying, but the trick wasn’t to get them to see inside his mind, the trick was to get them to see his profile. He had talked long enough for the woman to suggest, why don’t you send us your details and, within 10 minutes of doing so, she had called him back to secure him for the shoot. In light of the high-class work he had done, they obviously decided to snap him up regardless of what his motivations were and whether anyone really thought they understood why.

If they had kicked one of the other models off their list in order to have him, Benjamin was not pausing to shed any tears. More important to him was that at no point had he ended up being put through to a certain Miss Solomon and so he could arrive in the hope that she would not see him coming – as much as she thought this to be his only disadvantage.

*****

Just as Violet thought she had regained her composure, she had to contend with this.

Benjamin walking into the meeting room like that was the most surreal moment of her life, and she was unable to think quickly enough to ask exactly how he got there. He had made that remark about being late and suggested they get going, as if he was some intern, then was already making his way downstairs before she could ask what he was up to.