Plotted starter for @carp3diems
“I don’t think I’ve seen you so nervous about anything in your life…”
Yes, Alex was nervous. Why wouldn’t he be? It was his first big gig, his first true piece of visual journalism that he got to call his own, and he got the gig all on his own.
Well, he was assigned to it by Zahra, who has worked as his mother’s Features Editor for years, but she told him she picked him because of his merit and abilities.
“You have an eye for capturing candid moments. And you’re Henry’s age. I’m sure he’ll feel more comfortable around you. Maybe you’ll even make a friend…”
Alex had to laugh at that, because there was no way that him and Henry Fox were ever going to be friends. He knows because he’s tried. He saw the model standing alone near the open bar at some Hot Under 30 party where he tried to chat it up because;
A) He looked just slightly pathetic standing there by himself, nursing the same glass of wine
B) Maybe Alex was just a tad nervous to be surrounded by the who’s who without the comfort of his sister or best friend around
But of course when he tried to make friendly small talk, Henry just looked him up and down with confused eyes as if wondering why this low life was looking at him, let alone talking to him, and excused himself in a stiff British accent.
So, yes, Alex was nervous but it was more an anxiety of having to follow Henry Fox around for the next few months, leading up to the holy trinity of the fashion world; New York, Milan, and Paris fashion weeks. These next months were going to make or break both of their careers, even more so for Alex.
Alex looked up when he heard Luna greet the model. Rafael Luna has done many cover shoots for Vogue over the years, and he’s been a mentor of sorts to Alex as he tried to make a name for himself. Alex was more than relieved when he heard that he was going to be the photographer for the photo shoot the Henry Project was to start with. Of course Luna was fussing over the model now, making sure that not a single hair was out of place, and every thread was where exactly it needed to be.
Henry Fox was handsome, sure, but he was also pretty. And yes, they are two different things. He had a strong jaw, broad shoulders, large hands, and was the perfect height at six foot whatever. But he also had a thin waist, high cheek bones, and perfectly pouty pink lips. The duality of masculine and femininity made him universally appealing and any photographer’s wet dream with his ability to mold him into whatever they wanted him to be.
It was honestly obnoxious.
But Alex was a professional and followed Luna to greet the model, and put out his hand. “Hello. Alex Claremont-Diaz. I’m going to be following you around for a few months…”
