TheLadyIsAVamp
Star
- Joined
- Jun 10, 2020
- Location
- United Kingdom
Bianca pushed open the tall glass door to the venue, smiling as the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses spilled out onto the quiet street like perfume. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Cassie was still following close behind. Bianca was in her mid 20s and had been modelling since she was a teenager. She'd attended this social on multiple occasions. It was a good way to meet people and make new contacts. She'd landed several well paid modelling gigs through social events like this. But Cassie was newer to it, and Bianca wanted to make sure her friend got noticed.
The venue was tucked away behind an unmarked entrance in the heart of the city, one of those word-of-mouth places where the chosen crowds mingled beneath dim lighting and velvet drapes. Inside, the walls were a rich navy blue, adorned with oversized monochrome prints of past fashion icons. Gold sconces cast a soft glow that danced across the marble-topped bar, where bartenders in pressed black shirts moved like clockwork.
“Don’t worry,” Bianca said over her shoulder, offering Cassie a reassuring smile as she handed her coat to the waiting attendant. “Everyone's really friendly, and if anyone gets elitist with you, I'll give them a talking to they won't soon forget!"
The room was already buzzing with a curated crowd, models in low cut dresses and deconstructed blazers, photographers with cameras slung casually over their shoulders and tablet devices containing their portfolios, and agents sipping cocktails with the air of people who hadn’t paid for a drink in years. Laughter rippled from a corner booth where a group posed for selfies against a neon sign that read Frame Yourself in loopy script.
Bianca looped an arm through Cassie's. “It’s a little scene-y, but it’s good for getting your name out there. Just be confident, smile, and don’t agree to anything without checking who you’re talking to first.”
A waiter floated past with a tray of prosecco flutes. Bianca snagged two and handed one to Cassie. “Welcome to the circuit.”
The venue was tucked away behind an unmarked entrance in the heart of the city, one of those word-of-mouth places where the chosen crowds mingled beneath dim lighting and velvet drapes. Inside, the walls were a rich navy blue, adorned with oversized monochrome prints of past fashion icons. Gold sconces cast a soft glow that danced across the marble-topped bar, where bartenders in pressed black shirts moved like clockwork.
“Don’t worry,” Bianca said over her shoulder, offering Cassie a reassuring smile as she handed her coat to the waiting attendant. “Everyone's really friendly, and if anyone gets elitist with you, I'll give them a talking to they won't soon forget!"
The room was already buzzing with a curated crowd, models in low cut dresses and deconstructed blazers, photographers with cameras slung casually over their shoulders and tablet devices containing their portfolios, and agents sipping cocktails with the air of people who hadn’t paid for a drink in years. Laughter rippled from a corner booth where a group posed for selfies against a neon sign that read Frame Yourself in loopy script.
Bianca looped an arm through Cassie's. “It’s a little scene-y, but it’s good for getting your name out there. Just be confident, smile, and don’t agree to anything without checking who you’re talking to first.”
A waiter floated past with a tray of prosecco flutes. Bianca snagged two and handed one to Cassie. “Welcome to the circuit.”