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The woman seemed to like the name.
"A career in modeling isn't an easy one, and you're lucky to have been picked out to take the first step. Obviously, there are a lot of things to sort out, but we're here to help you get to where you want to be. We take photos of you and send them to the appropriate agencies. You'll also need a composite."
She waited for Cristina to ask: "What's a composite?" But no question came. Again the woman was temporarily thrown.
"A composite, as I'm sure you know, is a sheet of paper with, on the one side, your best photo and your measurements, and, on the other, more photos in different poses, for example, in a bikini, dressed as a student, perhaps one of just your face, another that shows you wearing more makeup, so that they won't necessarily exclude you if they want someone older. Your bust..."
Another pause.
"...your bust is perhaps a little large for a model."
She turned to the photographer.
"We need to disguise that. Make a note."
The photographer duly made a note. Cristina--who was rapidly becoming Jasmine Tiger--was thinking: "But when they meet me, they'll see I've got a bigger bust than they were expecting!"
The woman picked up a handsome leather briefcase and took out a list.
"We'll need to call a makeup artist and a hairdresser. You haven't any experience on a catwalk, have you?"
"None."
"Well, you don't stride down a catwalk as if you were walking down the street. If you did, you'd stumble because you'd be moving too fast or else trip over your high heels. You have to place one foot in front of the other, like a cat. You mustn't smile too much either. Even more important is posture."
She ticked off three things on the list.
"And you'll have to hire some clothes."
Another tick.
"And I think that's all for now."
She again put her hand inside the elegant briefcase and took out a calculator. She went down the list, tapped in a few numbers, then added them up. No one else in the room dared utter a word.
"That will be around two thousand euros, I
think. We won't include the photos because Yasser"--she turned to the photographer--"is very expensive, but he's prepared to do the work for free, as long as you give him permission to use the material. We can have the makeup artist and the hairdresser here tomorrow morning and I'll get in touch with the people who run the course to see if there's a vacancy. I'm sure there will be, just as I'm sure that by investing in yourself, you're creating new possibilities for your future and will soon recover any initial expenses."
"Are you saying I have to pay?"
Again the "events coordinator" seemed taken aback. Usually, the girls who came to see her were so mad keen to realize the dream of a whole generation--being considered one of the sexiest women in the world--that they never asked indelicate questions like that.
"Listen, Cristina..."
"Jasmine. The moment I walked through that door, I became Jasmine."
The photographer's mobile phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and moved away to the far end of the room, which had, until then, been in darkness. When he drew one of the curtains, Jasmine saw a wall draped with a black cloth, tripods mounted with flashes, boxes with blinking lights, and several spotlights suspended from the ceiling.
"Listen, Jasmine, there are thousands and millions of people who would like to be in your position. You were chosen by one of Antwerp's finest photographers, you'll have the help of the best professionals, and I will personally manage your career. On the other hand, as with everything else in life, you have to believe that you're going to succeed and, for that to happen, you need to invest money. I know you're beautiful enough to enjoy great success as a model, but that isn't enough in this highly competitive world. You have to be the best, and that costs money, at least to begin with."
"But if you think I have all those qualities, why don't you invest your money in me?"
"I will later on. At the moment, we need to know just how committed you are. I want to be sure that you really do want to be a professional model or if you're just another young woman excited by the possibility of traveling, seeing the world, and finding a rich husband."
The woman's tone of voice had grown severe. The photographer returned from the studio end of the room.
"It's the makeup artist. She wants to know what time she should arrive tomorrow."
