Work Text:
Oh my god. Oh. MY GOD!
I can’t believe my boss assigned me, me! Me, Olivia Penn, to the shoot involving the one and only Saint of Ascaria! And not just with him, but his husband!
I only started working with Ascaria Weekly three months ago! This is so much pressure. So much, but I can do this. I know I can.
…Right?
I’ve heard that they’re both such kind and generous people. Surely the shoot can’t be that scary if it involves the saint, right?
The scope of the project is crazy, though! Ascaria News wants to run a special edition for the holidays, including celebrity highlights and interviews of the most up and coming of the up and coming, and who better to include then Levi Blake and Raphael Everett?! They’re only two of the most already up and definitely coming people in the country!
I have to call Stella and tell her. She won’t believe that I get to meet THE man!
I can't believe it, even.
The lists of… demands…. Mr. Blake’s company sent over is insane! I expected some suggestions and recommendations on how to best highlight their best features, but they have a whole itinerary for the shoot for us. It’s not just a normal celebrity shoot - we’re going full cheesy, with a ‘Saints of Ascaria’ theming for the issue. I've never had to navigate such a complicated list of expectations. They included everything - times, days, outfits. What angles to use, the color of the lights. They even included a list of banned and preferred poses.
I can’t wait to see the outfits that are made for them! Raphael is so dreamy - I’m sure he’s gonna knock us dead when they get here for their shoot!
I’ll have to study up. I’ve worked in film for five years, but this is the first time in a long time I’ve felt so nervous. It’s not every day you work with someone so instrumental to the entire country. His charity helped my family immigrate, and I can only image how they’ll react when they see MY name as the photographer. I wonder if I could get him to sign an autograph when I meet them?
No. No, no. That's so unprofessional. I can't ask them that, but if one of them offers, I won’t say no.
The cameras. I need to double and triple check our cameras are up to snuff. We can’t use second-rate cameras for a shoot involving the Saint of Ascaria! My boss is gonna kill me if I don’t pull this off. I better make sure we’re prepared. I’ll have to ask Marvin to pull the good equipment out this time. No dusty outdated gear for us!
The day is here. Here I am, getting dressed at the buttcrack of dawn, to prepare for the most important photo shoot of my life. If I can pull this off, I’m sure to get a promotion! And don’t get me started on the prestige of working with Levi Blake, or the accolades for working with an award-winning actor! My friends are going to be so jealous when they see the photos in a few weeks. I can’t wait!
I can’t let anything go wrong. I need to make sure I fixed my hair in a neat updo, my makeup is on point, and I don’t dare leave this apartment without making sure my outfit is suitable. I’d hate to be laughed out of the studio by Mr. Blake or Mr. Everett! Something simple, but elegant, I think. Nothing that’d impede my photography, but something that still looks professionally well kept. A nice pant suit should do the trick, in a color that'll bring out the green of my eyes.
I could barely sleep a wink. I needed to add way too much concealer to my under eyes to keep from looking like the Walking Dead. Hopefully, they won’t notice. A dash of blush on my cheeks and a splash of tint on my lips should help me look livelier, too.
A nice iced coffee on the way should keep me perked up enough to make a good first impression, at least. I stopped to grab two, one for me and one for Marvin, before heading to the studio. It was already bustling with activity, as usual. There he was, fiddling with my camera. He’s such a good assistant, I don’t know what I’d do without him!
I gave him his drink. “They here yet?”
Based on the schedule they'd provided, they shouldn't be, but I needed to check just in case. You never know when something comes up and an entire day's schedule shifts.
“No. ETA ten minutes, at least from what the boss said a few ago,” he replied, taking a sip and sighing with pleasure, “Thank god, you remembered the triple shot of espresso.”
“Great, that gives me time to prep. They’ll need to go through makeup and costuming, which should buy me another…” I thought through the day’s schedule. It was always jam-packed, but thankfully differed little from one shoot to another. “At least an hour, maybe more depending on how heavy they decide to do their faces. Oh, this is so exciting!”
We set to work on preparing the camera's rig. My boss let us grab the best set in the entire station for the shoot, a treat I hadn't expected to be given when I requested better equipment to do the project justice. I love the cool feel of a quality camera under my hands. I hope this shoot doesn't end up spoiling me. I didn't get to play with it for too long, the settings a dream to work through as I set it up for the heavy lifting I'd have to do in focusing the lens and swiveling it around what would be a mostly static photo set, when the commotion started.
The set buzzed with their arrival. A flurry of people burst onto the scene. A woman with her hair beautifully done in a bun and the most practical yet fashionable heels I've ever seen entered alongside a suited man, their hands filled with a tablet in one and suitcases in the other. The staff flit around with the requests made by the pair, their unconcerned faces turning toward the set entrance when the door opened again for the guests of honor.
I wasn't prepared. I thought I had been, but how can you be? Four years of school and days - months - no, years of practice wasn't enough to prepare for this moment.
Their tailored suits are so cool. Oh, oh-
They’re here! They're actually here.
They look so pretty together! I’d heard the Saint had a gorgeous smile, but oh my god, no one did it justice. There's something so soft and serene about it. It wasn't big, or toothy, there was no pomp to it at all, but the little flash of teeth was enough to send a flurry of butterflies into my stomach. No wonder Mr. Everett fell for him, look at him.
I wish I could bag myself a man like him, or even just one that was half as handsome would be enough. Mr. Everett, too. There's something so otherworldly about him, and photographing him is going to be such a fun challenge. I'll never forgive myself if I don't do justice to these beautiful men.
The way Mr. Everett held Mr. Blake's arm, a hand on his wrist as they navigated the chaos of the set, could melt steel with how warm and sweet it looked. Completely at ease with each other, it was like nothing else mattered but the two of them as they disappeared behind a wall of people.
I couldn’t help feeling disappointed when they were whisked away to the changing room. I wish I could go in there and help Hannah and Frankie put their faces on, but I guess patience is a virtue. If only it wasn’t so hard to wait!
Lights! Camera! …. Mass hysteria!
No one told us what to expect when we were put on this shoot. All I knew was that it’s for a special edition of Ascaria Weekly, and to prepare for a long, tiring photo shoot. Seeing Mr. Blake and Mr. Everett come out of the dressing room, I can see why!
Frankie and Hannah did an amazing job. They look so soft, like they are absolutely glowing! The makeup subtly highlighted the straightness of Mr. Blake's nose and the sharp angles of his jaw, and the soft contours of Mr. Everett's cheeks and eyes. I wish I could do my makeup like that. With how well she'd applied it, no one could tell that their skin had any at all in the photographs.
Perfect.
I never expected those outfits, though. They dressed both of them in pure white, the high collars and long sleeves adorned with golden trim and lace. The material shone under the bright set lights - not in the way of cheap clothing, but with a sheen that showed how luxurious it truly was. The veils' gold detailing caught the lights and did everything to highlight their gorgeous features from under its gauzy overlay.
Beautiful. Simply beautiful.
Saint of Ascaria, indeed!
“Alright, Mr. Blake, you first,” I chirped. He turned and looked at me. Me! It was a bit unsettling, honestly. I don’t know why, but there’s something about his eyes that set off a deep feeling of uneasiness. It was so strange, the jittery feeling that entered my belly and made my legs feel like dead weight. It was probably just nerves, because how often do you get to work with someone as well known as the Saint? The best I'd ever done since starting with Ascaria Weekly had been a local legend, a woman with a legacy of rescuing dozens of children, but her reach ended at the end of her small town.
Levi Blake wasn't just on a different playing field. He was in an entirely different game, one that I could have only aspired to glimpse before the project doc hit my inbox.
He nodded at me, his eyes moving to Marvin when he approached to help him get into position for the camera.
“Levi,” he said, then Raphael offered his name as well. Oh. Oh, my. Permission to use their first names? My friends are gonna die when they hear about this. I think I might die from this.
Levi moved with so much grace as Marvin directed him to sit on the simple throne the studio bought. I’d heard he was part of the nobility before he led the charge on abolishing it, but I wouldn’t have believed it until seeing the signs with my own eyes. Levi folded himself on the chair with ease, his face tilting up so the lights caught his striking features just right. If I weren't a professional woman, I'd likely swoon from how beautiful he was. The lights caught his eyes so perfectly, the color like gleaming sapphires, that I had to resist shooting a photo before the set-up was complete.
“Just like that.” I positioned the camera and started the tedious process of shooting and correcting, taking so many photos that it’d take hours to process post-shoot. The click of the shutter going off always made my heart flutter, the thrill of excitement taking over once we fell into a familiar routine. Every minute change in pose meant dozens more photos to ensure I caught every angle that the director might want to use in the issue; not even the most discerning eyes could avoid their photoshoots reaching hundreds, if not thousands, of itinerations of the same poses and facial expressions hoping to catch the perfect shot.
Levi took to the camera like a fish to water. The man might as well have been born to be in front of a camera. He shifted when asked, his expression never changing from one that I swear made it look like he was vaguely disinterested in anything happening in the shoot. I swear he doesn't have a bad side. No matter the pose, the camera showcased his natural grace and physical beauty. I'd worked with a lot of models, most of them at the peak of their socially acceptable beauty, yet none had been as captivating as the magnetic man caught in my camera's lens.
When the final pose was struck, his husband came to stand next to me.
“He’s beautiful,” Raphael breathed. Marvin had Levi stand, angled so the lights softly highlighted the curve of his cheekbones and the straight lines of his nose. With his face tilted just so, his brows softened and his lips slightly parted; with his hands up and folded in front of him, the persona of the Saint of Ascaria truly shone.
Levi’s eyes flicked toward us, his head unmoving, but then they returned to focus upward yet again.
“Just wait until we get to yours, Raphael. You make a beautiful couple.” I was gushing, I knew, but the pleased look that he gave me only pushed me to carry on. “Imagine what it’ll look like when both of your portraits are on the cover of Ascaria Weekly. They’ll fly off the shelves.”
“Do you think it’ll make the cover? I assumed we’d make the middle of the issue.”
I laughed. “You and Levi? Please. Who could ever be placed over the Saint and his husband?”
As we chatted, the camera flashing as we went, I couldn’t help catching the look of satisfaction that crossed Levi’s face between the snatches of photos. It wasn’t joy, exactly, not in the way I’d usually see on a model’s face when one of us praised them. No… it was something more… subtle, I think. Something I couldn’t pick up on, but Raphael did; he smiled so large that his eyes squinted when he looked over at Levi.
They’re so cute!
“Alright, Levi, you’re all done for now. Once we finish with your husband, we’ll bring you both up for the joint shoot, so don’t wander too far,” I said, flashing him a brilliant smile.
“Noted.” The chair Raphael previously occupied squeaked as Levi sat in it, his face expressionless as he peered at his phone. A frown tilted his lips, his fingers flying as he typed a response, until he pocketed the device and turned his gaze to his posing husband. He said nothing, merely observed, but even so it had me sweating buckets.
It was one thing having Raphael next to me as I shot. He was talkative, curious, and dang near a cheerleader.
It was another having the Saint of Ascaria sitting next to me, his gaze sharp and assessing.
I swallowed. The pressure felt much, much heavier as I returned my eye to the viewfinder. While Levi appeared as a force of nature throughout his shoot, Raphael's natural charm came through in the soft curve of his mouth and the dramatic shifts of his body as he moved across the set. Marvin didn't need to guide him, as he did with Levi; Raphael picked up on the beats in a way only an actor could do so.
"Fabulous, Raphael. Keep it up. Try mimicking how we had Levi reach to the masses, now-"
As I gave instructions to his husband, Levi's head tilted toward me. "Would the art director not be the one that normally provides direction to the models?" he asked, his voice a low drone beside me as I took a few more shots before hand-waving Raphael to another part of the set.
My heart hammered in my chest. In the viewfinder, Raphael's face turned the wrong direction - toward us, or more specifically, to his inquisitive husband as Levi looked expectantly at me. The knowing gaze in my camera turned to one of amusement.
"I've done both roles, and I've found that my shoots go smoother when I'm allowed to direct them instead of having a separate art director," I explained, my voice shaking. There'd been so many small details his company demanded of us, that for a moment I was afraid the lack of one may have breeched their agreement somehow. Levi turned his face back toward the set, the glow of the lights softening his features as he nodded his understanding.
I swallowed. We were only halfway through Raphael's shoot, and I could feel the moisture soaking into the back of my blouse.
I hoped they’d be pleased by the results.
“Levi, did you have to terrify the poor girl? She looked like she was ready to pass out by the time my shoot was finished.” I thumbed through the proofs. Of course, all of them were gorgeous. She captured a more stoic side of me, letting the angelic features of my face stand out without looking too cheesy. The ones of Levi, though, blew me away. He looked almost lonely, his upturned face heavy with vulnerability I’d never seen before. “Look at these. We don’t look like the same people here at all. It’s amazing.”
Levi’s glance at the photos was fleeting. His eyes jumped from photo to photo, barely sparing each a moment’s notice before he handed them back. “They’re sufficient. The donations that’ll come in from this shoot will be immense, I’m sure.”
“Sufficient?!” I stared at him with incredulity. How could he look at the small miracle in paper form that sat on our coffee table and not feel awed by them? They weren't just photographs - they were tiny works of art, the mastery of light, shadow, and movement so obvious in their contents that it nearly drove me to tears. “She made you look like you were feeling something here. If anyone was a saint in that room, it was her!”
The corner of Levi's mouth ticked up into a wry smile. “Three decades of nobility training and intense reflection on the impact of a softening of facial muscles on other’s perception of emotion is the saint, in that case, dear. She merely wielded the device that captured it.”
“Did you just minimize her craft into a glorified tripod?”
A thoughtful look crossed his face. Levi clicked his tongue, his disapproval clear in the sharpening of his eyes. “Of course not. A tripod couldn’t capture the perfection of your visage, or know to angle just so when the light didn’t hit your skin right and washed you out, instead of showing how you glow. No,” he reaffirmed, picking up one of the many photos of me that sat in front of us, “As a photographer, she was sufficient. There is likely no photographer alive that could truly capture your light, but she came very close. It’s enough.”
It was the closest I could likely get to a compliment for the woman from him. I picked up one of the two of us, Levi standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders in a gentle touch. “Should we get one of these printed and framed? We could put it in the master bedroom.”
There was the slightest softening of his face. “I’d enjoy that.”
The special edition of Ascaria Weekly released a short week and a half later. It sold out in minutes, and demands for a reprint caused a second, and then a third, wave of the issue to be created.
The donations that came in were, indeed, numerous.