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Love in the Gist of Splendor
Yoshamai

 

Disclaimer: *mutters* I hate doin' this.. *ahem*... uh... They do not... I repeat, do NOT belong to me...*sigh*

Warning: Like, some severe AU!!! But it's fun... yaoi... seifer x squall... ENJOY!

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Chapter Four


"Do you like this one?"

Do I like that one? fuck no. She looked like a fucking pig with a dick stuck too far up her ass. Her skin was much too reddened and sun burnt. Her arms and legs were skinny and resembled sticks a bit too much. She was flat chested, the pink glittery top covering only her nipples, basically all that was needed to be covered. I could see her head through her thin, strawberry blonde hair. Her black eyes looked dead even as she smiled, and she looked as though she had one too many face surgeries (Michael Jackson, anyone?). I cringed when I noticed that I was able to count every single bone in her ribcage. She was only twenty one, but she looked as though she would kill over at any given moment. I'm not exactly a fan-slash-supporter of my undoing, so I more than willingly handed the photograph back with a fake, forced smile. And then I lied.

"Uhh... yeah. She looks.... different, um.."

"Well, what do you think of this one?"

"Look, Murin, I don't think now is a good time to help you choose a model for your 'magazine'. I'm trying to eat," I said, pointing to my half eaten hamburger. He smiled and stuffed the photos back into his coat breast pocket.

"Hey, Seifer, You got any business, yet?"

"Why the fuck would you ask me that?" I growled half-heartedly. "I'm sitting here with you, aren't I?"

"Uh . . . right, Seif--"

"Well, then no, I ain't got no fucking business. Shit, Murin . . ." I sighed, smoothing my hair back. I fucking hate it when he does that. He asks stupid questions that he already knows the answers to. Murin is basically the closest thing I have to a business partner. We have been trying for weeks to score business, we have even called a few known agents. They told us that they would "stay in touch". Fuck. No such luck. After a while, we decided to take off from work, hoping that maybe if we ceased to chase it, it would chase us.

Because of this time off, I have had extra time to relax, even as the money continued to drain as I did no work. I actually had a great time, dancing and grinding with a certain lewd brunette. I have seen him many times before, in many ads as I was idly flipping through (don't laugh) Out magazine. He looks even sexier in person, and he feels much better than paper. I had a field day clutching and squeezing his juicy ass, rubbing up against him. He seemed surprised that I knew his name, but then I ask myself: who doesn't? He has already done at least thirty fashion and make- up commercials in his young life, and even as he has had little publicity, when he is featured in the news, he can sure stir shit up.

I remember one article in particular that stated how he was almost raped, given the irregular circumstances. The article, and I remember the words clearly and correctly, stated, and I quote, "17 year old model, Squall Leonhart, filed a report and pressed charges against Trich Webb for 'inappropriate conduct'. The young model is suing the wealthy film maker for over 40 million dollars in emotional suffering." And, of course, he won the case.

As much appealing as sitting on my ass was, I was getting pretty sick of meeting with Murin every day of the week, not doing shit. My routine consisted of waking up, showering, heading off to Sulah's Diner, and helping Murin put together his so-called "breakthrough" magazine. Pretty boring shit.

My last piece of work was three months ago. Murin had found me work with a big-name agent. The guy managed those big time, money racking models, you know. But, as it turned out, the job I did "wasn't good enough", or so the bastard had said. He only paid me half the amount I was promised. I couldn't exactly bash his fucking skull in, as there were at least five beefed up bodyguards at his side. I took it like a man, sulked out of his building, and took my anger out on his silver Lexus, making sure both dents were highly noticeable.

It's not like I'm not well off or anything, because I am. My income definitely suited my taste at fifty thousand a year. But, because of my being fucked over a couple of times, I sometimes regret ever having a part in show business. I figure life would be a lot easier if I had a normal job like teaching or fixing shit. The models I had always been assigned to had always made the job as hard as they could, fussing because they were too hot, or because I wouldn't let them move. That's what modeling was about, right? But, even as working had its numerous flaws and drawbacks, it was how I made a living.

"Hey, Seifer, You ever read that article about that fourteen year old boy that died in that freak car accident?" Murin was saying to me around a mouthful of french fries.

"No." I took a bite out of my hamburger.

"Well, he was driving along a deserted road, right? And suddenly, he jus' swirved off a cliff."

"Are you kidding?" I snickered, trying to muffle the sound by covering my mouth with my hands.

"That's not funny. What if it was you?" He looked serious. I still laughed.

"It ain't me. I can actually drive, thank you very much."

"Seifer, why are you so insensitive?"

"Fucker shouldn't have been driving anyway. What was he doing? Running away from home?"

"Yes, actually."

"More power to him."

"Why do you have to be such a--" he was cut off by my cell phone ringing loudly.

"Hold that thought, would you?" I stood as he grumbled. I walked over to the entrance of the diner and continued out. Looking at the caller ID, I allowed a small frown to form on my forehead. "LDP Agencies?" I pressed the talk button and lifted the phone to my ear. "Hello?

"Is this Seifer Almasy?"

"Speaking. How may I help you?" I continued on to where my car was parked.

"Yes. I would like to know if you'd be interested in working for our company on a project."

"With who exactly?"

"Sir Luigi De Pietro." That caught my attention.

"Uh.. Any models in particular?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Squall Leonhart, sir."

"Uhh, sure. When do you need me?" I felt like doing a cartwheel.

"Tuesday of next week. Be sure to report to LDP Agencies at half past four. Do you know where that is?"

"Uhh... no." I pulled out a pen and random peice of scratch paper from the glove compartment. I wrote feverishly, listening as he gave me the directions to the building.

"You should only have to give your name to Kate, the receptionist, and she'll let you up to the 35th floor. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Thank you. We'll see you then."

"Alright. Bye." I hung up and ran straight back into the diner, grinning up a storm.

"Who was that?" Murin asked, watching as I put on my coat.

"That, my friend, was a guy at LDP."

"LDP? What's that?" he asked.

"A modeling agency. I've finally got work." I fished out a couple of bucks from my pocket a set them on the table for my food.

"That's good and all, but where are you going?"

"I have to make sure everything's perfect. I really don't want to fuck this one up."

"Alright. Well, good luck, Seifer."

"Thanks," I yelled back at him, letting the door close behind me.

(To be continued)

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A/N: Sorry this chappy isn't as interesting as it could've been, but it needed to be written. And well, the whole delay in upadate.... well, I don't really know what to say. You guys are more than welcome to vent your feelings by reviewing! thx.

2/23/03

 

~Mai~

 

 


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