The Burn Book

Chapter 1: The Puppet

Esther

Lights. Camera. Pose.
My cheek muscles fashioned the fullest smile I can afford. My lashes were intact, and my eyes were hurting from the lights. Nothing new there. I was getting used to the burning sensation with their direct exposure, drawing my lashes longer in the makeup room. I placed the arms on my hips, my eyes bold and wide, looking at the camera. And then, I swirled in the dress, turning halfway and then flaunted my thighs. My dress was a bit tight, and I asked my manager to get it replaced. But as always, the director ‘wanted it that way’. As if starving me wasn't enough, they wanted to sexualize me in my entirety.

“Esther, give me a seductive smile,” the cameraman was in his full element.
I let my hair bounce back, eyes staring right back at him, and curved my lips slyly. It was a black, lacy dress. Almost all the lingerie. Heck, it was lingerie. I had worn a maroon red, two-piece with a halter neck before. They wanted me to be the poster girl for Haute Couture this week. It was some big fashion magazine, and they wanted to do a photoshoot with me before the interview.

“Do an innocent look,” I softened my gaze, making my smile fuller and making a heart with my fingers. The irony made me sick to my gut. But this was work. I needed the checks, and my mother loved her lifestyle.

“Charm me, Esther,” he shouted, enthusiastically.
I dropped to my knees, as the dress parted on my sides. I positioned my left profile, getting on one knee, as the dress exposed a side of my panties. I turned my head to look at him, and found more snaps and light right into my face.

“Brilliant! You are superb,” the lights turned off and I curled on the floor. I was exhausted. We were doing this for an hour now.

“Get up. You will ruin the dress,” I heard my manager behind me. She scoffed. Her hair had turned burgundy from grey, and she wore a matt brown lipstick.

I tried to get up, and found someone extending a hand. My manager frowned. She looked like she would scream, and I saw the photographer helping me get up. I took his arm, and saw her scowl, quickly turning into a fake smile.

“You are fabulous, Esther,” he said, as I got up and straightened the barely there dress. He looked at me with scrutiny. Eyes raking me from top to bottom. I know what he means.

“And your eyes. I have heard so much about you, but now that I see it for myself… You truly are a Goddess,” he said in a low, grunt. I have seen men like him.

“I am sorry, if I have offended you, and if you don't like to talk with people-”

I looked at my manager, and signed using my fingers. Why don't you tell him I can't speak? I looked at her expectantly.

“Well, she can't speak. And doesn't want to,” my manager said, and tugged me by my arm. That was rude!

I was dragged to the green room. She locked the door, and I looked at her baffled. What did I do? She raised her brow at me, and I sat down on the chair. I was too tired to have people get cross with me.

“You know the rules about dating. You won't talk to a guy. You have a fiance!” She scowled. Oh, it was all about that. I do not wish to date him. I was being polite.

“Well then, you must stay away from people who cross their boundaries.” She was being silly and really adamant, all for nothing.

I didn't even talk to him! Remember! I can't talk to people. I signed furiously, and she scrunched her nose.

“Don't give me the attitude, Esther. We both know what happens when you get too close to people,” she said, and a shiver ran down my spine.

I will be more mindful. I let out a sigh. She turned away, leaving me alone. It's not like I had an option. My whole life revolved around what she expected of me. I was taught to be silent, and complying. I was everything she wanted me to be, and yet nothing close.

Creak.
I saw the makeup artist. She had her hands full with bags, and boxes. I got up, to help her get them; but she looked at me weirdly.

“No, thanks. I am alright. Are you okay?” She asked, and I nodded.

“I may totally suck at this sign language thing but you can text me if I can help you with something,” she said, and I looked at her confused.

“Your manager wants you to get changed, and be ready for another shoot in like five minutes,” she said, looking sorry. I nodded, and disappeared into the door that led to the changing room. This place was a damned show house, and I was their latest doll. The appearances meant everything, and she wanted me to be on top of the game. I couldn't go into a slump and turn into a nobody. That's the thing with people who get fame overnight. I wasn't preparing for this, but then … I was a natural. A natural show doll.

I changed into the new clothes, already lying on the rack. It was a thing to be worn with a see-through top. They were to be worn with maroon G-strings, and left very little to the imagination. I heard the door turn open behind me slowly. The scent of the familiar perfume struck me, and I turned around. Xavier?

“I-” he was at a loss of words when he laid his eyes upon me.

Who let you in? I smiled, and he closed the distance between us.

“I own the place. What do you mean, love?” He smiled brightly.

“You look…very…irresistible,” he kissed the side of my jaw. Wet kisses trailing my neck. Uhm.

“I want you, baby,” he said in an almost whisper and I arched closer to him.
I held onto his face, and then, he complacently placed his lips on me. His tongue darted out to lick my lips. He was good at this.

“I would have fucked you in this dress, but we have to give it back. You look perfect now. See you at the shoot,” he said, pulling out. So this is what it was about.

I tried to smile back at him, as he wrapped his hand around my waist.

“Don't let another man come close, please,” he kissed my forehead. He reached for the robe, and tied it around me.

“Now, off you go,” he said with a smirk.

I felt a slap on my ass, as I turned the door open.

“Be a good girl, and you will be rewarded,” I let out a sigh. I walked out, and saw my manager, waiting for me.

“We don't have all day,” she shrieked and I followed her out.

The assistant editor of the magazine had me take off my robe. I turned to look at the cameraman. He was giving me the eye, observing meticulously. But he wasn't the same guy. The air around the set had shifted.

I heard the set crew gossip behind me.

“I have heard the cameraman was fired. Guess why?” Fuck. She told him, didn't she?

“Next up in fifteen seconds, Esther,” my manager yanked me back to reality. A thick smile studded on her lips, as the lights turned on. I was the stringed puppet in the show house.

“Esther, give me a natural pose now…”
The lights shone bright in my face, and I wanted to curl up and cry. Instead, I made moons of my eyes, and gave them the shallowest smile I could afford.

“So pretty-,” he chucked down his voice, and then all I could hear was the snapping of the shutter, blinded by the lights as I dreaded the end of the shoot. She did it again… She will keep doing it.