Find Me Alastar

“No.” She smiles as she takes my hand and shakes it. “Well, fucking how do you do?”

Sasha and the other pink haired girl laugh.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“My name is Mel, she looks around. “They are not here yet then?” she asks.

Sasha shakes her head.

“Stay with us, Emmaline. Your life could be in danger here, woman.” She smirks.

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“These models want your man.”

My face falls. “They do?”

“Yeah, but he’s not into them. It’s rather embarrassing watching them as they try to get his attention.”

“Great,” I mutter as they all break into laugher.

Alastar spots the hairdressers and makes his way over to kiss them both on the cheek. “Hello crazy cat

ladies.” He smiles. It’s obvious these girls work on all of his jobs and they are very familiar with one

another.

“We are just informing your girlfriend of what she can expect.”

He rolls his eyes. “Stop.”

I fake a smile even though my insides are jumping around in turmoil. That was a piece of information

that I really didn’t need to know. He disappears again and the hairdresser girls set up near the makeup

station. The models start arriving. Each of them bring two or three people with them. They are so thin.

Tall, skinny, and naturally beautiful. I can’t recognize any of them, but they probably look really different

without makeup on. I sit and watch in silence as, one by one, they get their hair and makeup done,

transforming from attractive, skinny girls into gorgeous, Covergirl women.

I watch them move from hair and makeup over to wardrobe, where they just strip off without any

concern, and get dressed in front of everyone out in the open. I’m seeing breasts and behinds. Nothing to

hide, no body shame, and nobody seems to be paying any attention except me. Obviously, everyone is

accustomed to this environment. I feel a twinge of envy. I was mortified that Alastar wanted to watch me

shower even though we have sex together. He sees beautiful women naked every day and he doesn’t bat

an eyelid. What must have he of thought at my childlike embarrassment?

Star smiles appreciatively as they go to him, and kisses them all on the cheek. “Gorgeous.” He smiles

as he looks them up and down and they pirouette in front of him like puppets.

My stomach drops. I know he is just doing his job, and I know this is what you want to hear from your

photographer. Hell, if the photographer doesn’t think you are beautiful than what chance do you have of

getting good pictures from the photo shoot? As the night goes on I watch him in full form. There’s music

on, people jumping at his requests, and I become a little more dejected yet even more impressed. Ten of

the world’s most beautiful women are all smiling and being witty with their assistants clambering around

them. He’s directing them on what position he wants them to change into next, how he wants them to

move, to stand, to feel. He’s telling them constantly how beautiful the shot is, what emotion he wants to

see on their faces, constantly going back and checking the shots where the girls all stand around him as he

shows them the digital screen. They laugh at everything and anything that comes out of his mouth.

As the final shot is taken, sometime around midnight, the girls all lay on the hay in only their

underpants, which have been strategically covered in hay by their numerous assistants. Their beautiful

breasts are on show and only covered by each other’s hands. I come to some realizations about my

beautiful Twinkle Star:

He is amazing at his job.

He is an amazing man, and now I know for certain why he wants to end what is happening between us

at the end of the week.

I don’t belong in his glamorous world.

I wake to Alastar gently kissing my shoulder. I smile to myself a little sleepily. We are naked and warm

in his bed, his body nestled close to mine.

“Good morning, my beautiful Em.”

I reach back to rest my hand on his cheek before I turn my head to kiss him. “Good morning, Twinkle.

He smiles against my lips. “Are you tired?”

I close my sleepy eyes. “Yes.”

He kisses my shoulder once more. “Stay home with me today. We can spend the day in bed.” He rests

his face tenderly against mine.

That does sound really good. By the time we got home last night, it was after 3am. “Hmm.”

My eyes won’t open.

“We could go shopping or I could take you to the art gallery.” He tries harder to talk me into playing

hooky from work, his lips trailing down the back of my neck.

I stay silent, my brain too tired to function, as I enjoy his lips on my skin.

He sits up and rolls me onto my back, pulling the blanket back so that he can look at my body.

Something about watching him working last night has me feeling all empowered. This is a man who

mixes with beautiful women every day. They all adore him, and yet last night, when the shoot was over,

his eyes came straight to me sitting in the corner on the director chair. It was me who he wanted to talk to.

As soon as that last shot was taken he’d come straight over, kissed me, and handed me a glass of

champagne. He then proceeded to lead me around by the hand and introduce me to everyone individually,

his eyes happily lingering on my face as if he was proud that I was there with him. I know everyone was

taken aback when he introduced me as his girlfriend. Hell, even I was. The thing is, I may only have him

for a short time, but I really did feel like I mattered to him last night. It was as if this short time with me

meant something to him, too. He is right, though. No matter what happens between us in the future, I will

look back on this time with fondness. His eyes roam down my naked body and then back up to my face.

“Thank you for coming with me last night.”

I put my hands behind my head. “I loved seeing you work.”

His eyes hold mine.