Alt Model

By Kylie Jensen

Paula dreams of a life that is beyond her grasp in the modeling industry. Her passion for alternative styles, art, and publications leads her to a world she yearns to be a part of. However, when a well-connected photographer and artist comes into her life, things take a turn for the worse. Forced under the thumb of Tommy, Paula gives in to a life of drugs and abuse further down the rabbit's hole. Desperate to be free, she risks everything struggling against Tommy's powerful employers and iron grip.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seagull Editions
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223295877

Book preview

Chapter 1

Flashes of light, surrounded by blazing hot boxes of bulbs and reflectors. My body was distorted in the polished metal, but around me half a dozen people stood, pointing their cameras. I could feel their eyes, making my stomach turn. At the same time, my brain was fuzzy and humming. I was unfocused, afraid, but unable to fully control my body.

I was lounging on my side atop a comfortable chaise lounge, my body tingling from the mix of drinks I’d consumed back-to-back. It felt like ages ago, the swimming sensation filling me like a sinking ship. I had hardly noticed, or seemed to care, that I was fully naked, exposed for the cameras to see. I didn’t see the faces behind the lights, or the hungry eyes, but I knew they were there.

Part of me was asleep, my body refusing to respond to my mind’s screaming urgency. It seems my flight or fight response had been totally overridden by the alcohol pulsing through my system. I could hear a familiar voice though, reassuring in some ways. My mind was desperate to command my body, however no matter what I focused on, nothing worked. My stomach was turning and soon my mind couldn’t stick to just one thought. In just a short while, it was swirling like a tornado, from one small town to another.

Don’t get too close to the subject, the familiar man spoke. His voice soothed me a little but the edge in it frightened me too. I felt poised, afraid to move a muscle as the cameras cascaded in clicks and flashes.

Enjoy how firm and toned she is. A former gymnast...

I couldn’t see where his voice was coming from, but knew he was standing behind me. At one point, a heavy man with a large camera and lens stepped into the light, making me jump at his sudden appearance. Like a flutter of wings, the cameras clicked rapidly, and I moved to cover myself, hearing that familiar voice again.

Step back or I’ll throw your ass out, Anton, he growled, soothing me next. Hands down – this is a nude shoot, remember?

I lowered my hands slowly, feeling the sting in my eyes. I wasn’t sure why tears came but I blinked them away harshly. I went back to lounging, flinging my arm over the head of the chaise, propping my golden blonde head against that arm innocently. It was another flurry of shutters and flashes, and I could hear the familiar voice cooing in approval.

Soon we’ll be starting individual sessions, he called out, making the room flutter in whispers. It’s 800 per 15 minutes, non-negotiable. You get what you pay for, people.

I could hardly hear his voice now, drowned in inquiries about my schedule or the rate. There were some who had entire wardrobes they wanted to dedicate to a fifteen-minute block. I was beyond overwhelmed, aware that there were still eyes and cameras on me, but a blush had crept across my neck and cheeks. The cameras went wild again, making me blush even brighter, but I could not control myself.

Everything was out of hands, my emotions running wild as the cameras captured every moment. I felt genuinely scared, my panic rising until my chest was heaving and the air felt hot and thick, like jell. I couldn’t breathe and suddenly I was bolting from the chaise lounge, through the ring of lights and crowds of people in blind panic. I was reaching, grasping for a window, a door, something to get fresh air when a pair of hands grabbed me roughly.

No! I need air, don’t touch me! I screamed, pushing, shoving, kicking, clawing and the familiar voice soothed me, soft and close to my ear.

Shh... okay, let’s go out, I’ll get you a robe, he whispered, his breath hot and smelling like whiskey.

Please, I begged, grasping the material of his shirt. Air...

Get out of the way! Toss me that robe! he yelled out, wrapping me under his arm as he guided me through the group of concerned photographers. It wasn’t long until I was stumbling over wires, chords, and other people’s feet, my own feet bare and surprisingly cold.

Shoes, I managed to mumble, and the familiar man hoisted me lightly in his arms, opening the door to a room that was brightly lit.

We were inside the room alone in a matter of moments and I immediately felt better, trying to adjust my eyes. The room around me wasn’t very large but had a giant opened window overlooking the park and street below. There was a couch, a dining table, some old wooden chairs, and it looked like a typical living room in a small city flat.

Breathe, he prompted me, forcing me to focus on an odd Picasso poster hanging over the small electric fireplace. I counted, breathing slowly until he handed me the robe. I had forgotten that I was still naked, slipping the robe over my shoulders and tying it tight. He had set a pair of sandals at my feet only moments before and I stepped into them, sitting in the chair closest to the window.

I’m sorry my love, he smiled, his crooked clean teeth and carefully styled dark goatee twitching in response. I didn’t realize you were being overwhelmed. You need water? A drink? How about a joint?

I feel funny, I explained, refusing him. Something is wrong.

You just drank too much, he explained, handing me an unopened bottle of water. Drink some water, I’ll get you something to eat and we can continue. I’ve got three sessions lined up for you and a long one with wardrobe. Perfect for your portfolio.

I’m not drunk, I only had a couple mixed drinks, I insisted, opening the bottle of water. I need a minute to collect myself, to breathe!

Alright, alright, he sighed, cupping her chin in his fingers with a bit too much force. Don’t yell at me, Paula. You know I don’t like that...

S-sorry, I sighed, shaking my head. It was still fuzzy, my memories slightly hazy as I recalled how the day had started.

His name was Tommy Dziak, though he preferred his clients, and friends, to call him Tommy. I had been with him for the past few months but for the last month we’d been travelling from Amsterdam to Krakow. We had stopped in many French and German cities and now, I just remembered, we had gotten to Prague just last night. We hadn’t stopped in between and by the time that we got to the rental in the central city with its private parking, it was well after dark.

I barely remembered carrying my two small bags up to the rental or passing out, but Tommy had woken me that morning with a loud shower and some espresso. He was thoughtful like that, bringing me coffee whenever I wanted it. I remembered that he told me about our long day an encouraged me to have fun. After my shower, and regular grooming and makeup routine, he took me out for an early lunch at a bar with great burgers and mixed drinks.

After that I barely remembered the afternoon, or how we got to this unnamed apartment in Prague. I could at least tell it was still Prague, the tell-tale spires of the Charles Bridge and gatehouse not far off over the clustering of stone and brick buildings. I also could make out the language from those down below on the street. I didn’t speak Czech, but my mother tongue was German and in school I’d picked up on conversational English, French, and Spanish.

I took some more deep breaths, looking over the street below. I was trying to calm myself, the shaking still continuing as my stomach turned and tumbled. It was awful, making me cough and gag in protest. My stomach was empty still after throwing up all that food Tommy made me eat. He said I was becoming too thin, but he doesn’t know anything. I was overweight and my body was disgusting - I just didn’t feel good at all, my head swimming and pounding as Tommy finally came back in the room. He paused when he saw me, his eyes wide with concern and annoyance.

You’re really pale, he said, moving to sit across from me on the wooden chair. You need something? I ordered you some pizza and I’ve got some coffee and snacks being delivered by one of the clients. They went to a late lunch.

S-sorry, I sighed, her voice shaky. I don’t know what is wrong with me. My body feels heavy, and my mind is so slow. It had to be those burgers earlier... food poisoning?

Could be, though I always go to that place when I’m in Prague, Tommy explained, squeezing my knee gently. Let’s see how you feel after some water, pizza, and a nap, okay? I told them to take a long lunch, so they won’t be back for another hour or two.

T-thanks, I grimaced, leaning against him now. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Tommy.

Shh... it’s okay, get some rest. I’ll go get the pizza while you relax on the couch, alright?

I nodded my approval, slowly standing with my water bottle. He helped me to the couch and laid me down, gently brushing his hand against my bare knee as I adjusted on the couch. He even handed me a pillow from one of the armchairs and grabbed a throw from the chest along the wall.

Just sleep for now, when you wake, there will be pizza, he assured me, pushing my hair back over my ear with a smile.

Thanks Tommy, I smiled, relaxing into the couch, feeling safe once again.

He simply nodded, the scar on his neck and the butterfly tattoo on his arm shimmering behind sleepy tears. I don’t remember falling asleep but apparently, I did. I was woken, what seemed like hours later, by Tommy.