The Test Shoot

Devika pulled Levi in for a short, soft kiss. "You're a perverted, talented sweetheart, Levi," she said. "It was my pleasure." Arms around each other's shoulders, they walked to the car. "Tell you what. We'll meet for a nice, fancy dinner on Monday, and it'll be my treat. I can start paying you back for the test shoot you weren't supposed to pay me for."

"Uh, one, you don't owe me anything," insisted Levi, "and two, I thought you had to work."

"One, I do owe you something," retorted Devika, "and two, that's what I owe you for."

* * * * *

It was Monday afternoon, and Devika had been called into her "check-in hang." Her cubicle already packed up, she marched through the bullpen with an unmarked envelope in her hand, past the yoga studio, past the arcade, past the fucking fro-yo machines, and into a glass-walled office with three supervisors she'd already forgotten the names of and an empty beanbag chair she was supposed to sit in.

"Good afternoon!" She had the biggest, brightest smile on her face, one that was surprisingly easy to put on when she thought of how little she was going to miss this place.

"What's up," said Some Guy, "You seem like you're in a good mood! That's the Umbrla way!"

"Yeah, you know, I'm great," said Devika. "I watched The 40-Year-Old Virgin last night, and I'm feeling confident, and strong, and I'm so happy that I'm finally ready to tell all of you that this is the worst fucking job in LA and I'd rather mop up after a donkey show in Tijuana run by MS-13 after giving myself papercuts across my clit than work another minute in this piece of shit office run by you racist, sexist pricks."

There was a long processing silence that Devika barely even noticed because she gave nary a fuck about what these idiots thought.

"Well," Other Douche finally said.

"Actually, actually, I'm sorry," Devika broke in. "I don't know if MS-13 runs donkey shows, they probably don't. I shouldn't slander them like that. I mean, they're evil and all, but you need to be honest about that evil; know your enemy, right? Anyway, here's my two weeks notice." Devika flung the envelope in her hand at her now former bosses; it landed at their feet. "Oops. By the way, I've got vacation time that you pressured me not to use because you wanted me to be a 'team player,' whatever the shit that meant. I mean, you certainly never made me feel like I mattered, what with all the times you called me by nicknames I didn't ask for, forced me to work overtime on top of my 60 hour weeks, never paid me for that overtime, never once showed concern over my personal life, or defended me from employees who harassed me. Anyway, I'm just going to go ahead and take my vacation now."

"Look," asked What's-His-Fuck, "can we—"

They couldn't. "I know, I know," said Devika, "It's a really bad time. I mean there are audits coming, and there's that overhaul to the GUI you've been pumping us up for, plus somebody just hacked the website and plastered Tucker Handel's racist business card on the front page, so the thought of taking a vacation—"

"Whoa whoa, WHAT?"

"Oh, I thought you would've heard by now?" Devika was honestly surprised; these dumbasses were more incompetent and disconnected than she thought. How the hell did I waste two years of my life here? "Yeah, Twitter is blowing up. Check your mentions; #FuckerHandel is trending. It's juvenile, but I can't lie, I respect the passion behind it."

The bros opted to stare at her instead.

"No, seriously, go...oh, wait. You think I did it? I actually tried to delete it before I was called up here, check my keylogs. And check out where it came from because it couldn't have been from here." Last night, with a little of her tech wizardry, Devika was able to anonymously pass along some helpful information to a young South Korean hacktivist who relished the chance to get his name in lights. Nobody would ever know where it came from. "You know," she continued, shameless, "it's shit like this that's made working for you such a nightmare over the last couple of years. You put on this big, friendly smile and try to pass yourselves off as the cool kids on the block, but you don't trust your employees or listen to them. I'm not angry, though; I'm just done."

Before any of the now-faceless bros could respond, Devika turned for the door. "You can mail me my last paycheck," she said. "I'll leave my badge with security." Strolling out of the office, without looking back, she added, "Good hang, assholes."

She left with a smile on her face. She wasn't confident that modeling would work out for her, and she didn't want to think about her chances of getting another job in tech after quitting like this, but the thought that it was over was enough for her to feel weightless and happy as she drove through the security gate of Umbrla's campus, never to return.

* * * * *

Devika celebrated her freedom with Levi at Musso & Frank's that night, which was somewhere she always wanted to go but never thought to on her rare night off. Over dinner, they scheduled two more shoots, and used images from them to complete a portfolio that was sent out to various agencies; the prospect of doing porn was discussed, and she wasn't necessarily opposed to it, but while she thought she could deal with a hypothetical leak of their pictures (as uncomfortable as that would be), she wasn't sure she could turn to her family and say she chose to have sex on camera for a wide audience. "I can see myself changing my mind in a year or so," she admitted, "but right now, I'd rather just be your pornstar."

Also, young as she was and still looked, she didn't think she could claim she was 18 with a straight face.

After 5 weeks and a couple of callbacks that went nowhere, Devika signed with an agency specializing in models of color. Her new agent, Dana, was honest with her about her prospects, and how much she needed to invest in herself to maximize her opportunities. Still, she wasn't rude or flippant about it. Devika was grateful to have somebody behind her who wouldn't lead her on, and felt ready to take on the world after talking with her, even if she wasn't quite sure how she was going to do it.

Her answer arrived in the mail a few days later, in a bubble-cushioned manila envelope with a return address from the Palisades.

Devika was alone when it came, as she had hoped. Inside was the external hard drive that she had been expecting; red, with a white heart-shaped sticker on it and a note to call Levi for the password. What she didn't expect was the smaller envelope within; she figured it'd be some kind of mushy love note, or whatever kind of note you send to a fuck buddy.

It wasn't.

Mostly she was shocked. She was a little angry too, but she didn't understand why. She guessed she was elated, but she felt like she shouldn't be. Mostly she just felt like she needed to call and air it out.

Levi picked up after two rings. "Hey, babe," he said, as if he didn't just send her

"$25,000?" Devika didn't know how she kept herself from screaming. "Are you fucking high?"

"Oh good, you got the hard drive."

"Levi," she said. "LEVI," she repeated. "I can't," she started. "This is," she added. She didn't get much further.

"You make a powerful argument," Levi finally said. "Look, I bet you 'a life changing amount of money' that you'd get represented in four weeks, you remember that?"

She did. "THAT'S NOT HOW A BET WORKS!" This time, she didn't stop herself from screaming. "I didn't offer anything against that bet, I never even accepted it to begin with...oh my God, Levi, this is too much!"

"Okay, okay, take a seat."

"I am sitting."

"All right, then get something to drink."

"Do you want me to sit or get a drink?"

"All right, then don't get a drink, just take a few deep breaths. In and out, like this." Devika breathed over the phone a few times, Levi guiding her down. "Good. Now listen. I hate to break it to you...but you kinda got yourself a sugar daddy."

"Sugar daddy?" Devika shook her head. "Levi, you're like two years older than me."

"Okay," laughed Levi, "sugar brother then. It might feel a little iffy, but I'm not giving you money because I think I own you. It's because I like you. You don't have to worry about me trying to buy my way into your heart or bail you out of all your problems, but I can tell you need a little help, and I can afford to be a bit of a sucker every now and then. So there; if you're really not comfortable, just tear up the check."

"Fuck you, you know I can't tear up that check." The shoots paid for her overhead, but not having a regular check made getting herself fed a little more of a challenge, one that promised to only get harder.

"Cool, then cash it and do whatever you'd like. Set it aside for rent money. Go invest in your look. Go see your family. Hell, go wherever you want. Have fun with it. Find out what's between the gears. Whatever it is, it really doesn't have to involve me. Honest."

Devika sighed. "Unbelievable," she said, "I fell into a fucking E.L. James novel."

Levi laughed. "Look," he said, "if it helps, my trust spends about a million on charitable causes every year. 25K's a drop in the bucket."

"I guess," said Devika. "Thank you, Levi. I really appreciate this. Just don't make a habit of it, okay? If I need help, I'll ask, but I like living on my own terms too, you know?"

"Devika, I promise; I wouldn't have done it if I didn't get that vibe from you."

The warmth in Levi's voice gave Devika something to believe in, and it inspired her to speak up about an idea that hadn't quite fully formed, but drove her a little wild every time she thought of it. "By the way," she said, "I'm taking some of that 25K and earmarking it for our next test shoot."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really. And since we leaned hard into a stereotype for the last one, I think it's important that our next shoot really breaks away from that mold."

"What'd you have in mind?"

"Hmm." She had vague images in her head; nighttime, rooftops, eyemasks, leather or maybe spandex. "It's not crystal clear in my head yet," she said, "but you know, you don't see a lot of Indian girls as superheroes..."

* * * * *

Levi was, as ever, a genius.

The evening gown set took Devika through the exact journey he had envisioned, from hope to anguish to heartbreak to acceptance, and her naked skin in the simulated moonlight looked astonishing and truly artistic. The concubine/queen set was not artistic. However, it was sexy as hell, with nary a trace of tortured programmer to be found. The shot of Devika taking off her bra with her back to the camera was magical, as was the shot of her leaning back to show Levi's cock inside of her. The picture that ultimately got her off was one of her on her back, taken from above. Her mouth was open in a sated gasp, one hand draped over the head, the other holding his blonde head between her legs. Her cinnamon skin sparkled with gold, her body outlined with crystals and frosted with Levi's passion. She didn't look used or humiliated; the cum wasn't proof of her conquest. It was a mark of desire and liberation, her posture that of a woman who loved freely, openly, and without remorse. She was proud of Levi for framing it so well. She was proud of herself for nailing the pose, unintentional as it was in the heat of her climax.

However, that wasn't her favorite picture of the three shoots.

Devika's favorite actually wound up in the outtakes folder, pictures that Levi didn't even bother to touch up. He had an obvious reason, one that the model even respected; it was a blurry snapshot taken in the heat of the moment, with lots of unintentional negative space above Devika's head. She was barely in frame, eyes closed and crying out. It was the moment when Levi first entered her, uncontrolled and hasty and absolutely beautiful.

On a sweltering Saturday in June, Devika Singh was discovered on a beach by Levi Fisher.

Six weeks later, in the privacy of her apartment, Devika Singh discovered herself.

= = = = =

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