“Oui?12.” Arnaud gave him a charming smile. “Reno didn’t get enough sleep last night. I was scolding him on proper self-care.”
Reno swatted at him and the photographer gave them both an indulgent smile.
“I slept just fine, thank you.”
“I’m sure.” Arnaud popped up from the couch and Reno had to hurry to follow. It always impressed him that Arnaud could walk in platforms so smoothly when he didn’t wear them regularly. Reno had to practice to achieve that level of natural-looking grace. Reno caught up to him on set and ordered Arnaud to turn so Reno could smooth out the wrinkles there from sitting on the couch.
“Thank you," Arnaud said, and the hairstylist came over to arrange their hair properly for the next set.
By the time they were slowing down again, Reno’s feet were starting to hurt and he was missing Luka. He felt himself tapping his finger against the crook of his arm where they were crossed and managed to shake himself loose again before he could start fidgeting even more. When the photographer called it a wrap for the day, Reno kicked off his shoes, forgetting for a moment just how expensive they were, then winced when one toppled over and skid against the floor.
“Get this dress off of me,” he hissed to Arnaud, and Arnaud’s dark eyes narrowed. “I need to get out of here. Help.”
“Oh, you lasted so long today before you went crazy.”
“Be proud of me, Luka ga matteru?13.”
“Matteru…” Arnaud frowned, “I need to practice my verb vocab.”
“Waiting. Like when I yellmattewhen you walk too fast with those long legs of yours.” Reno turned around so Arnaud couldunlace the corset portion of the dress then lifted his arm to reach the side zipper. “Is it fair of me to be doing this?”
“No.” Arnaud turned for Reno to do the same to his outfit. “It is never fair for any of us to subject another to our lives.”
“Fuck.”
“Swearing in public today, are we?”
“Damatte?14,” Reno scolded as he unzipped Arnaud from his dress. “What do I do?”
“Let him choose.” Arnaud peeled off the outside layer and someone came by to grab it from him. He waited until they were out of earshot again before saying, “You’re fretting.”
“I am.” Reno would be biting through his fingernails if he weren’t so religious about having acrylics done. “I’m supposed to give him these two week to figure out what he wants, and it’s day two. I’m already crawling out of my skin.”
“You need to relax.”
Reno barked a laugh and a few people turned to look at him. He schooled his expression. “You, my dear, are so funny.”
“Come on, you look ridiculous right now. You’re so anxious standing in the middle of this studio in your frilly undergarments.”
Reno looked down at his blouse, bloomers, and tights and did feel kind of ridiculous. “Alright. I’m getting changed and going home. I need to call my mom.”
“Oh, tell her I love her and she should call me soon so I can play that Buck-Tick song she likes.”
“You are so sweet; she does love their ballads.”
Arnaud agreed, “And I sound great singing them. Now run along. Go play.”
“Oh, I do get to play soon, don’t I?” Reno felt himself grin and rushed to find his street clothes so he could head home.
On his way out, he waved to Arnaud and thanked the rest of the crew for their hard work, then put his mask and sunglasses back on before doubling back inside.
He hurried back to the stylist's chair to search for the hair artist, and then tapped her on the shoulder.
She jumped, startled, before turning around. But when she saw it was just Reno, she asked, “You forget something?”
“Can I borrow a wig?”
“Huh?” Her eyes widened. “For how long?”
