David Chiu

I pull up to the side of the road and quickly check the adress - 1188. This is the place. There is also a sign posted on the door of this non-descript building. It says, “Casting Enter Here”. As I put my car into park I instinctly look at the sign posted on the sidewalk. It tells me that I’m within the right hours to park on this side of the road but I don’t trust it. I must be mistaken. I’m parked right outside the door of the building. I pause and then read the sign again. It says I’m ok.

I grab my headshot and step out of the car and through the door with the sign. Halfway through the door I almost run into a guy. He looks at me and says, “Sign-in at the table.” I nod in agreement as I walk into the room. The room is small and empty with a table and few chairs. I pass by a photographer taking pictures of an attractive skinny girl smiling and sitting on a stool. I can hear the subtext in her laugh. “I’m a young skinny beautiful model. You should hire me.” I ignore the chatter as I find the sign-in sheet. My eyes drift down the paper and I see the signs telling me that I don’t belong here. “Ford, Wilhelmina” the agencies for the beautifully elite. I find the next blank space and sheepishly write in my name and my agency. I try to make a joke to score points on personality. It works.

The photographer calls me over and tells me to sit on a stool. She then positions the camera one foot away from my face. My subconscious reminds me that my complexion is far from perfect. I try to look relaxed. I motivate myself by thinking of the prize - a two day shoot in Miami and a couple grand in payment. “I can do this” I tell myself. The photographer commands me to smile big. I feel the energy flow to my face and happiness appears.

“Perfect” she says. That will do.