My garment bag is bursting with outfit ideas. There have to be thirty different V-neck sweats in various shades of blue to bring out the color in my eyes.
When you’re an actor, choosing headshot attire feels like a life-or-death situation.
If I don’t look approachable yet alluring but with just a touch of something unique, then I’ll be stuck serving atFridaysforever!!!
And, honestly, the thought of working atFridaysfor even another month feels like a fate worse than death.
If I die and go to Hell, it’ll be covered in red and white stripes and loaded potato skins.
I haul the duffel and garment bag over my shoulder, nearly throwing out my back in the process—there’s 200 pounds of sweater in this fucker—and lug it to my car.
I will say, it’s freaking gorgeous out right now. Autumn is in full effect, and the drive to the studio is a kaleidoscope of red, orange, and yellow.
I pull into the lot and lug the garment bag into the studio, where the photographer meets me.
“Hi! You must be Dylan,” she says as he shakes my hand.
“Guilty. Sorry, I’m late. I had several meltdowns in front of the mirror.”
Her smile is warm as she waves her hand. “You’re fine! Your session partner hasn’t been here very long. I’ll introduce you to him.”
Sadie leads me through the studio and down a little flight of stairs to a sitting room.
“Dylan, this is Peter.”
The man sitting in the chair facingthe floor-length window, looking out onto the beautiful forest, turns around.
“Oh, my gosh! Professor Duncan!”
CHAPTER 03: PETER
Lord. Take. Me. Now.
A student.
That’s who arrives for this couple’s session—a former student of mine. Dylan was one of the few students in the department to take my absurdist theater elective and wrote a paper about Ionesco.
It was an excellent paper.
He was an excellent student.
And he must be no older than 23.
There isn’t a happy hour in the world that will help me forget how awkward this is going to be.
“Oh, you two know each other?” Sadie asks.
My voice cracks as I speak because I’m 13 years old again, apparently. “D-Dylan was a student of mine.”
“Professor Duncan is brilliant—one of the few professors who could make Pinter interesting.”
I know my cheeks are redder than some of the leaves outside. In the classroom, I’m in my element. My mind flows, relishing in the opportunity to talk on and on about something I adore. In life, I’m nowhere near as eloquent.
Academics tend to be really awkward. Surprise!
“That’s so kind of you, Dylan. You can call me Peter.”
“This is perfect!” Sadie proclaims. “It’s always nice when there’s already a connection—so much easier to relax for the shots.”
