Tulum
It was her first big photoshoot, an opportunity that had come out of nowhere at the last minute when another model had dropped out and they needed someone urgently.
Luisa must have fit the look, either that or her agent had been doing better work than Luisa gave her credit for, and before she knew what was happening she was saying goodbye to her parents, her boyfriend was dropping her off at the airport, she was sat on a plane with a car waiting for her when she arrived, her name held up on a board, a room in a good hotel, all expenses paid…
it was one of those opportunities that comes up in life that you have to seize and make the most of, and that was what Luisa planned to do.
The photoshoot was at a luxury villa set back from the beach, gardens, a pool, large open rooms inside, she could see exactly why they’d chosen it.
Walking around on that first morning after a night hiding in her room, too nervous and star struck to introduce herself to the other models that she knew and recognised from the magazine cuttings on her wall at home but had never met, never even got close to meeting, Luisa felt like she’d been transported into the pages.
It felt right, it was where she wanted to be.
It was a hive of activity, make-up artists and stylists and creative who-knew-what-they-dids all rushing around, and when Luisa introduced herself, she was soon seated and being prepared.
Sat with her feet on the cool stone floor of what looked like it would be the villa’s dining room on a more normal day, she told herself that she would be professional, she would be focused, she would be the kind of woman who deserved to be there because, she told herself again and again, she did deserve to be there.
Everyone had to start somewhere, and for Luisa this was going to kick start her whole career.
That worked, right up until she saw Arabella.
***
It was early on the second day of shooting, the air still cool from night-time, the real heat of the day a few hours away yet.
Luisa had stepped outside on to the villa’s terrace in search of a cup of coffee, not quite used to being up so early, and there, standing at the edge of the pool, deep in conversation with one of the photographers, was Arabella.
Luisa recognised her immediately, had known she was going to be there from the lists she’d been given, but Arabella Greenwood was different to everyone else…
she was famous in a way that no one else there was, not necessarily to someone in the street but certainly in this world.
Famous enough that she had clout, she had power.
She was the star of this photoshoot, without a doubt, and with that came influence.
Luisa couldn’t help but stare, seeing this person she’d admired in fashion magazines in the flesh.
She was already dressed in her first costume of the day, or maybe her second or third, Luisa could only guess, wearing nothing but a simple black one-piece swimsuit and an oversized blue shirt that was unbuttoned and left one shoulder bare.
Arabella was tall, slim, a figure that Luisa knew well, her dark hair, almost black, falling to just below her shoulders and framing a stunningly beautiful face.
Only a couple of years older than Luisa, Arabella by the age of twenty had had the exact career trajectory that Luisa aspired to, a rapid rise that meant her extra two years were a lifetime’s difference in experience between them.
She was in intense conversation with the photographer, but it was purely professional. Serious but not confrontational, this was someone who took modelling as seriously as Luisa planned to. First impressions, Luisa was impressed.
The photographer nodded agreement and left, and Arabella turned, glancing at Luisa.
Luisa looked away instinctively then forced herself to look back again, only to see Arabella’s eyes still on her.
It was only a second or two before someone else came walking towards Arabella, calling her name, but it was enough.
Arabella had seen her and, Luisa fervently hoped, recognised her as a fellow professional.
***
A couple of hours later, the day starting to properly heat up and Luisa having gone through several different costumes already, she was taking a moment in the relative cool of the villa when she saw Arabella walking past.
No, not past. Towards her. Directly towards her. Seeking her out.
Before she had time to feel nervous Luisa looked at her and smiled, trying to look open and welcoming, but Arabella simply said, “Come with me.” Her voice was smooth and quiet yet confident, spoken in English, and Luisa was left in little doubt that Arabella was the one with the power here and Luisa wasn’t.
Without really thinking about it Luisa followed her, walking barefoot across the stone of the terrace and round to the side of the villa where there was a low stone wall shaded by trees above.
Arabella produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and lit up. She leaned against the wall, resting on the top of it, and Luisa copied her. It felt surreal, both wearing swimwear with thin robes on top, leaning there with someone she’d only seen in a magazine.
After a couple of drags, Arabella looked at Luisa and said, “You’re new.” A statement, not a question, but she said nothing more, just looked at Luisa as she took another drag and exhaled, somehow making smoking look cool as hell.
Into the silence, Luisa said, “Yes.” She wanted to say more but she was star struck, tongue tied, so ended up saying nothing.
Arabella seemed to understand instinctively.
Maybe she was used to that reaction. “You won’t be for long,” she replied.
She held out the cigarette to Luisa, offering it, and Luisa leaned forward and took a drag while Arabella held it to her lips, not because she wanted to but because it didn’t feel like she could say no.
She breathed in deeply then exhaled, not a smoker normally but she’d experimented enough in her youth to not make a fool of herself by coughing. Arabella watched her and smiled in approval.
“You’re local?”
“Tulum, no. But Mexico, yes. My first international photoshoot.”
“You’ll be fine. We all start somewhere.” She paused. “If you need something, come and talk to me. My friends call me Bel.”
Luisa smiled but wasn’t sure what to say. It was getting more and more surreal by the minute. So can I call you Bel? She wondered but didn’t have the courage to say out it out loud. Instead she simply said, “I’m Luisa,” acknowledged by a nod.
They stayed there in companionable silence, Arabella, no, Bel, giving Luisa another couple of drags, then she stood up straight. “They’ll be expecting us.” She paused and looked at Luisa, seeming like she was about to say something else, but then said nothing before she walked off.
***
From that moment onwards Bel took Luisa under her wing.
On set, when she wasn’t being photographed herself, Bel would stay close, stepping in to correct her stance with a touch on her hips here and a hand on her shoulders there, guiding her chin with a light touch of her fingers on Luisa’s jaw, quiet words of encouragement when Luisa was struggling to understand instinctively what the photographer wanted from her, coaching her and teaching her the professional tricks behind this type of modelling.
When they broke for meals or had a lull in the schedule Bel would find her, inviting her to sit with her at the long table on the terrace, sometimes just the two of them locked in conversation, sometimes with others as well.
Bel seemed to get on particularly well with the other models and the stylists, a kind of cool, no-nonsense attitude that the others deferred to, and Luisa soon felt like she was part of the group.
When it was just the two of them, Bel would try her broken Spanish on Luisa before invariably it reached her limit and Luisa broke down giggling while Bel smiled…
giggling didn’t seem to be her sort of thing.
Sometimes she helped Luisa with her English in return, particularly when it came to some of the more colloquial phrases where it soon became apparent to Luisa that Bel came from the upper end of British society.
Luisa felt welcomed, she felt visible, she felt like she belonged.
Even when she realised that Bel had singled her out for special attention, she didn’t want it to stop…
she genuinely liked Bel, her calm, no nonsense approach to everything, her professionalism, and not least how much she’d helped and guided Luisa through what could have been a difficult week.
The others on the set noticed. Luisa didn’t realise what it was at the time, but looking back years later when she’d been on too many photoshoots to count, she realised that she’d seen it since too.
It was the way the others glanced between each other, the knowing smiles from the makeup artists, the little well intentioned comments that meant nothing on the surface, the space that they all gave Bel and Luisa as the week went on.
It was like they’d all seen this story before, maybe not with Bel but certainly with somebody like her, and they all knew how it ended.
***
It wasn’t until the last night that anything actually happened.
They’d finished early that day, the final shots done and the villa packed up.
The crew, the models, everyone headed into town to party, from what Luisa could tell all expenses paid.
At the very least it cost her nothing, which was good because she knew she wasn’t getting paid anything like what some of the other models were.
It was an experience and a half and gave Luisa even more of a taste for the life of a model on the up than the days that had gone before.
She had a great time, getting to know various people that she’d end up working with over the years to follow…
kind of like her induction into the world of fashion modelling. She liked it.