Ally thought about her father’s funeral. About the rent she was three weeks behind on. About the way her reflection in a dark window always surprised her—like a stranger she almost recognized.
Jules smiled. “Then you’re exactly what they’re looking for.” The first test was a polaroid in natural light. No makeup, no retouching. Just Ally in a gray t-shirt against a white wall. The photographer, a tired man named Marcus, barely looked through the lens. “Turn left. Chin down. Good. Next.” step 1 models ally
Ally raised her hand. “What if you’ve been invisible your whole career?” Ally thought about her father’s funeral
“Don’t smile,” Marcus said. “Don’t pose. Just be tired.” Jules smiled
Ally didn’t answer right away. She stayed on the bus, rode past her stop, watched her own face disappear and reappear between buildings.
