Fashion Gone Goth [ xMILENKOx & Juicy Fresh ]

[Juicy Fresh]

Fashion Gone Goth

Name: Daphnee Cynthia Cole
Height: 5 foot 4 inches, usually 5 foot 9 in heels
Weight: 117 pounds
Build: Slim, curvy, fairly petite
Hair: Dyed black
Occupation: Unemployed
​

Three damn years I wasted being a secretary for the biggest douche I've ever met in my entire life. Three damn years I tortured myself just to make end's meat, barely supporting myself and living paycheck to paycheck. I wasn't even in the career I wanted. I was stuck, dreading every day, working at a snobby 4 and a half star hotel where I had to front-hand deal with every customer that wasn't happy. My dream was to work in fashion and to try to bring light to the different styles of trend. The punk in me really wanted to pursue a career in Gothic/Industrial fashion and to eventually open up my own shop where I could place my own designs on the market. It was a far-fetched dream in a far-fetched industry that I was determined to achieve despite all ends literally against me. I was stuck with the current secretariat job; until the unthinkable opportunity was presented to me. I had just quit my current job after lacking the ability to hear another customer exaggerate their misery. It was an irresponsible and dangerous act because I could barely pay the bills and now I was desperate and jobless, and could potentially face the loss of my apartment. I had been applying to several smaller fashion shops and jobs but with no luck. But there was one company I wanted nothing to do with, and that company was the only to open a position for Executive Director of the Photography Department; a employment that literally screamed my name. It was a huge job way out of my employable league at the biggest international fashion business. The job was presented to me through a good friend, who happened to work as a secretary for the company. I laughed at two things, the fact that she even offered me a job at the cheekiest fashion power-house in the world, and the lack of credentials I couldn't provide in an application. But after days of convincing me I had nothing to lose, I decided to apply.

Now here I was, standing in front of some of the most famous models on the celebrity market. It was as if everything was handed to me on a silver platter. It was a dream-job that I could dominate with ease, but it wasn't with the people I had wanted to associate myself with. “No, no, no...” I shook my head in disagreement as I looked at the model. The photographer seemed to be getting a little irritated with my constant interruptions. I was managing the current photo shoot for the newest line expected to hit clientele with a bang. But something about the way the model was portraying the clothes just bugged me. “No one buys clothes to look like a total bitch.” I was very direct, and that was probably what got me the job in the interview. The model glared at me with insult. “But seriously, bare with me.” I stated, holding the clipboard to my chest and using my opposite hand to point out her flaws. “I think the problem with the atmosphere is attitude in the line. The line is rich and elegant – but don't make it too rich. Keep it simple, as if anyone can rock the style without having to flaunt thousands of dollars on their breasts.” I turned to speak to the photographer, “And you, stop giving me that smug look. Don't make me set you straight, because it won't be pretty. Don't only focus on the clothing, make the picture reach into the soul of the viewers. She has beautiful eyes, let them be the grab that sucks the buyer into the image and makes them lust for her fashion. You want to market the beauty and personality as well as the clothing and sex. Got it? Good. Now let's take a short break, touch up her eyeliner, and let's do this all over again...”

I jotted down a few more notes on my paper before my attention was pulled by the sound of my name being called out. “Yes, what do you want? Make it quick.” I hadn't even turned around to see who it was. The clearing of the co-owners throat caused me to glance over my shoulder to sight who was behind me. I had to double take before I realized I was being introduced unexpectedly to the owner; Paul Grow. I was quick to turn around, but I couldn't wipe that amused smile on my face. The expression that smudge your charming visage made me want to laugh. It was clear I wasn't the material you were expecting. And I was aware that I wasn't the typical type of employee to be hired at this kind of business. “Mr. Grow... What an honor to meet you.” The way I said that sounded strangely sarcastic and the raised-brow over my eyes gave a sense of humor to my voicing. I was dressed in completely different clothing. It wasn't in pieces of work that were designed and owned by the company. Everything I wore was foreign and different than the rest. My hair was long and a shocking black that could be spotted for miles. I had fair, pale skin with a thick lip hoop that stood out on the side of my hot red lipstick. But that wasn't the only piercing. My nose had a silver hoop on the right and my eyebrow had three piercings, side-by-side; the middle was a diamond and the two on the end were black spiked studs. It didn't help that my ears had 4 piercings on the lobe, disclosing the industrial on my left and my double hoop on the right cartilage. I was wearing a black collar necklace with black beads and a red corset top that complimented my slim curves. The corset was tied with black ribbon on the chest that tied into a messy bow. The sides of the front corset were decorated with black lace, and the breasts' sweetheart cut had tiny black ruffles preluding from the inside of the top. My arms and shoulders were exposed; both arms carried a tattoo sleeve. My bottom was a fairly simple black ruffled skirt with several layers of thin chains hanging from the waist. The skirt was short, but not too short; just enough to reveal my extended and slender legs through the largely-holed fish net leggings. My feet were booted with black, studded stilettos that showed off my red pedicured nails. “Didn't expect to see you here in the middle of a shoot.”

 

[xMILENKOx]

As Daphnee dominated the situation and began to bark orders this was when Paul Grow had entered the room ecompanied by his best freind Red Herking, Chief Executive Officer. The two men watched Daphnee work, Paul was not impressed and personally would have prefered to be elsewhere while Red on the other hand was keen to show off the company's new asset. That asset was Daphnee, though with a quick glace at Paul, Red grew nervous and this got worse once Daphnee noticed Paul. With a smug grin and a finger slideing his shades down to the tip of his nose to reveal pale blue yet almost grey eyes Paul quickly examined Daphnee before letting out a disapointed sigh. She was far from what he was expecting and wanting, then with athe same finger his shades were pushed up to cover his eyes again before Paul looked down at Red and shook his head. "What the fuck is this red... you find her on the corner turning tricks?" Paul grinned in amusement at his little comment on Daphnee's appearance. While Red looked to the floor slightly ashamed of his freind. "No Paul this is Daphnee Cynthia Cole our new Executive Director of the Photography Department!.." Red replied as he raised his head and gave Daphnee a sweet smile before looking back up at Paul. Paul towered over Red, standing at 6 feet 4 inchs as apposed to Red's 5 feet 10 inchs. Their builds also differed, Paul had the body of football player an obvious sign of his vanity and urge to look god like, while Red was of average build. Paul was 46 years of age and made an effeort to try and beat nature, he had more cosmetic surgery than all his female models put together all in the hope to look forever young and it had paid of but then if you can afford the best, the best is what you get. Though his vanity couldnt stop him going bald, something he liked to tell people he did gracefully. His almost chisled jaw was decorated with a well gromed black goatee beard with his sides clean shaven. Paul's mighty frame was clad in a fine italian casual suit that had cos more than most tuxedos and yet it didnt look it. It was a simple cream coloured blazer jacket with matching trousers, black italian leather shoes and a black silk shirt beneath with the top few buttons undone to reveal well groomed chest hair and three golden chains he wore around his neck.

Paul liked to think of himself as some kind of god like roman emporer and wasted no expense to show off what he had, chains matching the ones around his neck hung from his wrists and golden rings covered most of his fingers. he also owned a golden crown that he wore on special occasions such as his birthday when his ego was at his peak. Though unlike Daphnee, Pauls body was not tattooed or peirced though it had, had its fair share of surgical alteration. Red however was not a narsacist, he was only 42 an was lucky enough to have kept his hair and youthful looks without the need of a surgeon. His short red hair from which he got his name was spiked in a stylish way and had recently had blond highlights put through it. His dark brown eyes were framed by a pair of thick black framed glasses and his face was clean shaven. Red was dressed simply in a red shirt, a pair of black trousers and black converse sneakers.

"No need to sugar coat it Red, shes just here to make the pictures nice and pretty for the magazines!.."[/b] Paul replied as he continued to ignore Daphnee's existance and simply use Red as a middle man between the two of them. Red again looked down to the floor and sighed, Paul often embaressed Red when in public but between them Paul was alot different when they are alone. Come on Paul shes doing a great job so far..." Red responded in Daphnee's defence. Paul still stood there like some kind of superior being watching over his little empire behind his dark shades. "So Daphnee hows the shoot going?" Red asked trying to save this plane crash of a first impression.

 

[Juicy Fresh]

On the corner turning tricks? Are you fucking kidding me? This is the type of douche-bag I must work with in order to keep my job? This had to be some kind of sick joke. What kind of idiot is dumb enough to call an employee a whore right to her face. But, you didn't know me. You didn't know what I could do, what I could accomplish... but you also didn't know that my mouth, was probably even bigger than yours. “A harlot? I guess you must have your way around those corners to know so much about them.” I said that with completely normality, with an average voice as if I hadn't said anything wrong. There was a strange mix of bitter sarcasm with a huge deal of insult. It wasn't a direct insult, but it was more of a 'nudge-nudge, wink-wink' type of joke. I didn't want to lose my job on the spot, so I had to keep my words as least threatening and damaging as possible; but I realized it was going to be extremely hard to bite my tongue with you.

I had gone to reach out my hand for you to shake, but as soon as your aggravating words left your lips I was quick to retract that once-friendly offer. You didn't deserve a polite hand shake, you deserved a good hard slap in the face. Something I was forcing myself to hold back. I glanced over to Red, who was deeply red with embarrassment. He rather liked me, for some reason. Perhaps it was because I reminded him of his daughter; whom I used to be friends with in high school, but I don't think he remember that; nor remembers me. I gave him a warm smile, to tell him it was OK and I knew it wasn't his fault. I walked over to Red and placed my hand over his shoulder, gently. My black-painted nails lightly pushing into the material of his suit. “Well, Red here sees something you clearly don't in me. The ability to bring this company from the shits - up. Unlike the unnaturally skinny workers here, if you can even call them that, who bring nothing but eye-candy-satisfaction to you, I assume, I can bring a lot to this department.” I looked over to Red and gave a reassured smile before I walked towards the photo shoot.

I thought that would be the end of it, but I should have known better. Speaking like photography was almost worthless to the company? He spoke like he knew nothing. I shot my body around, a fierce look in my eyes as I stomped over to you. “I should have guessed I'd be working for a half-assed, total bimbo of a man. I thought being the owner of this company, you'd know value for what it is, but now it's clear to me that you just stand aback while you let your pathetic servants bring you cuisine food on a silver platter. Without proper photography, this company would crash and burn. But for the record, the shoot is going horribly. I was left with almost nothing to work with, and so far the concept is garbage. But ya know... it's only to make it nice and pretty for the magazines... It doesn't really matter if the product looks like trash to the public. It's not like it will lower the sales or anything...” Total, complete, sarcasm. I was surprised by how much my mouth ran off there. Red looked like he would faint.

(Sorry for the delay, the end of the semester is nearing so there's a lot of work.)

 

[xMILENKOx]

"I didnt know I was paying you to speak Mortisha?!... now why dont you pick up your camera and atleast look like your work..." Paul snapped back with equal hostillity, hand gestures backed up his words as he stood there like some kind of gangster boss yelling orders. Even though she fought with him, Paul couldnt help but find her fiesty-ness very alluring. momenterally he saw past her apprance and saw a sexy dominant goddess. Red meanwhile continued to look embarrassed with his sight down on the floor and his left hand on his forehead covering his eyes. Paul looked down to Red and shook his head before looking back up to Daphnee as he walked over to her, standing very close to her with his face very close to her's he grinned smugly. "Now your on my pay roll, I own your ass and dont forget that..." He whispered to her so only she heard him before playfully kissing her forehead in a mocking manner as he walked over to look at her photograpghs. Red shook his head before walking over to Daphnee. "Try to play nice ok, I know hes not the easiest guy to work for but he is your boss now..." Red pleaded with a desperate smile. Red knew full well Paul could be unpradictable and had fired people on the spot for lesser things. "So, what you shooting today?..." Paul asked casually as he stood with his back to Daphnee and Red by a table looking through photographs that were pild upon a table infront of him. Breifly he glanced over each image not really takeing the time to admire Daphnee's work as he carelessly made a mess of the neat piles and left the photos scattered upon the table top.

((Its Ok..))