the reflection staring back at him in the mirror is both familiar and not. movie star looks, he'd been told to have ... which isn't so outlandish considering who his father is - the same eyes, artfully tousled hair, pale skin. it's the clothes that are always changing, turning him into someone that he's not ( that he doesn't necessarily want to be ). a breath leaves him and while he wants to shrink in on himself, his spine straightens and his shoulders square themselves as he glances into the mirror once more. he looks past himself, into the corner where he can see his sister lounging and tapping away on her phone -
❛❛ you could at least pretend to be supportive, ❜❜ he tossed over his shoulder, rolling his eyes as he turned. ❛❛ i brought you here for moral support, remember? ❜❜ because there was absolutely no chance in hell he would make it through this shoot. when shaan had approached him with the latest project ( hand picked by his grandmother, who ran not just his career but his life ), he'd been rather excited ... at least until he read through the contract and saw one very important detail.
photographer: alex claremont-diaz.
( oh he was royally fucked )
much like she had during the last couple of weeks, bea told him that he was being dramatic while kicking out a leg at him. ❛❛ menace. if you're not going to help - ❜❜ he muttered under his breath while nudged her aside to grab the jacket she was sitting on. ❛❛ just get out of my way. ❜❜
@westwingsolo little plotted model!henry + photograper!alex.
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