It’s A Man’s World. Polly Courtney
get wrong under pressure, then print the airbrushed pictures beside her incorrect answers, thus offering the readers a dumb, compliant bimbo with a perfect body. It wasn’t exactly a fair representation of the female student population, but then, nothing was ever a fair representation. Banter was no different from other publications when it came to manipulating the truth.
‘We call that the hand-bra,’ whispered Jamie, leaning over.
‘Right.’ Alexa nodded awkwardly as the girl leaned forward, lightly clutching her heavy breasts.
‘Got to get plenty of nipple-free shots, for the website and so on,’ he explained softly.
She nodded again, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t just that she was sitting, watching another woman grope her own breasts; it was something else. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but Alexa didn’t feel right.
‘Makeup?’ Jamie was talking at full volume again, which wasn’t particularly loud. Unlike most of the staff at Banter, Jamie had a quietly authoritative manner. He was boyishly good-looking, with high cheekbones, plump lips and piercing blue eyes that shone out from beneath long, blond lashes.
The makeup artist emerged from a far corner of the room, munching on a sandwich.
‘Can you try and do something about the mark on her thigh?’
The makeup artist brushed the crumbs from her hands and bent down, grimacing at the sight of the girl’s leg. ‘Hmm.’ She looked up. ‘Is that a birthmark?’
Kayleigh nodded apologetically.
The woman screwed up her face. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
The makeup artist retreated and started rummaging through her enormous kit bag, leaving Kayleigh standing self-consciously under the lights wearing a G-string and a pair of stilettos.
That was it, thought Alexa. That was what made her feel so uncomfortable: it was the fact that Kayleigh looked so uncomfortable. The girl didn’t want to be exposing her every pimple and blemish to the nation, to be scrutinised by two hundred thousand strangers. True, she had volunteered for the shoot – probably encouraged to do so by a boyfriend who saw it as some kind of trophy to show his mates – but it was clear from the way she was hugging her chest that now that she was here, she felt over-exposed.
Alexa felt a surge of pity for the girl. She wouldn’t stand up there, half naked, in front of a bunch of strangers. Even though she understood the rationale for appearing in Banter – that it was flattering to know that men saw you as a source of sexual stimulation – she still couldn’t imagine herself doing it. Alexa wondered what it was that was stopping her. What made her different from Kayleigh?
A thick layer of foundation was applied to the offending birthmark, rendering it invisible to the camera – although from where Alexa and Jamie sat, it looked like a bad cement job. Close-up, the girl wasn’t as gorgeous as she initially appeared. Beneath the streaky tan, her skin was pitted and her front teeth were stained brown with nicotine. Alexa couldn’t help wondering whether this modelling shoot was some kind of ironic attempt to boost the girl’s self-esteem.
Alexa thought about this for a moment, wondering whether she had hit on something. Was it self-esteem that made her different from the nineteen-year-old standing in front of her? Or self-respect? Alexa squirmed uncomfortably as the makeup artist surveyed her handiwork. She was trying to work out who had more self-respect: the woman who took her clothes off for a lads’ mag, or the woman who refused to do so. She couldn’t help thinking that the last six weeks had done something to dent her confidence.
‘Have you got enough clean stills?’ asked Jamie, jolting Alexa out of her thoughts. ‘I was thinking, we could do a couple of hair-bra shots – you’ve got lovely hair, Kayleigh.’
Kayleigh giggled nervously. ‘Thanks.’
The photographer nodded. ‘Good idea. Let’s give it a go.’
‘Maybe using the props?’ Jamie suggested, nodding at the desk by the window, which supported a selection of pens, papers and books that were presumably there to remind the reader that Kayleigh was a student.
The props helped, Alexa noticed. Kayleigh looked almost sassy, crawling along the desk on all fours, her buttocks raised in the air and her breasts hanging low, obscured by a thin veil of hair. On the photographer’s advice, she played with the various items of stationery provided, sucking pencils, slapping rulers against her backside and pretending to read while donning a pair of fake glasses.
‘That’s great!’ cried the videographer. ‘More please!’
‘Awesome.’ The photographer nodded at Jamie. ‘We’ve got something here.’
Alexa felt a vibration in her pocket and pulled out her phone. She had two text messages.
Of course I remember
Loopy Lara. Didn’t she only eat pink food or sthing? Horrible little brat. Wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy. xL
Alexa smiled and opened the message from Matt.
Is she hot? Would
U be tempted . . .?
She stifled a laugh. Matt had seemed genuinely concerned about the risk of Alexa being ‘converted’, having latched on to some bizarre idea that girl-on-girl action was something that happened quite frequently, out of the blue. He had obviously been reading too much Banter, she thought wryly.
She’s young. Currently
posing for a ‘knee bra’ shot. Extremely turned on. Ax
Alexa tucked her phone away and refocused on the action. Jamie seemed to be pleased with how things were going.
‘Well done, Kayleigh. That’s really great. Are you okay to do a few topless shots now?’
Kayleigh nodded, slowly reaching round and gathering the dark locks of hair to reveal her full, heavy breasts.
‘That’s good,’ said Jamie, under his breath. ‘They’re real. The readers prefer real ones.’
Alexa nodded, watching as the photographer directed Kayleigh to sit on the chair, open her legs and straighten her back. She didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was the muted references to various parts of the girl’s body that bothered her. Jamie seemed respectful enough, but Alexa couldn’t help noticing the way his brief exchanges with the photographer centred around Kayleigh’s hair, thigh or breasts as though they were parts of a mannequin in a window display.
‘Okay!’ The photographer eventually ran out of poses and started checking through his shots. ‘I think we’re done.’ He beckoned for Kayleigh to take a look. ‘Loads of great stuff here.’
Kayleigh grabbed her bra from the floor and pulled it on, her inhibitions visibly returning.
‘Oh my God!’ Kayleigh gasped as she caught sight of herself on the screen. ‘I look like a real model!’
The photographer smiled modestly, flicking through a selection for the girl to see. Alexa wondered what it must be like to see topless photographs of yourself, knowing that in a couple of weeks’ time, they would be plastered across the back pages of a national magazine. She couldn’t help feeling a shudder of panic on Kayleigh’s behalf.
The videographer caught Jamie’s eye. ‘Can we do a few words to the camera?’
‘Oh yes, of course.’ Jamie wandered over to the tripod and gently interrupted. He was very genteel, noted Alexa. They all were. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but perhaps she had foreseen an element of seediness in today’s shoot – a lewd remark or possibly some inappropriate gestures. There had been nothing like that. The only crudeness at Banter, as far as she could tell, went on behind women’s backs – in the office upstairs.
The videographer checked the settings on his camera and looked at Kayleigh, who was subtly plumping her breasts