Back upstairs, Gabriel had Silas perched in front of the dressing table, fingering products through the Greek's black hair, then applying makeup to even out his complexion. Nathan was taking hangars of clothes from one of the many racks in the room and taking them down to the studio. I admired his stamina for the repeated trips up and down the stairs without tiring. I wound up helping Gabriel fetch things he needed, like finding particular shades of foundation. I was glad I could be of some help, even if it was just a little bit.

I managed to get a few words in with Nathan as he stood in the bathroom in the corner of the room and shaved his face clean. "What is Victor doing?" I asked.

His blue eyes met mine in the mirror. "Vic is helping set the equipment up. Lights, wires, the viewing screen, and all that technical stuff."

"Oh," I replied.

Nathan smiled encouragingly at me. "You want to go watch Silas when he has his turn? That way you can get an idea of what will happen for you."

"I'm allowed?" I asked.

Nathan chuckled. "Of course. Besides, you're going to need a break away from Gabe whenever you can. You will already be spending a lot of time working with him, and he is under a lot of stress right now. He has a huge job with all this, and he gets pretty snappy."

As if on cue, a string of colorful curses rang out, apparently about a flat iron.

Both Nathan and I winced.

I watched Nathan finish shaving, withholding any more conversation because it was hard for him to talk back to me when his tongue was pushing out his cheek or lip for the closest shave possible.

"Trouble! Come oil Silas up! Nathan! Your god damned turn! Get your ass over here!"

Oil? Were we frying Silas up for lunch?

Nathan nodded at me, encouraging me to go ahead and that it was okay. "Hold your horses! I'm doing aftershave now!" he shouted back to Gabriel.

I found Silas standing now with a bottle of baby oil in his hands. He was rubbing it onto his arm but it was awkward with trying to keep his mock toga from falling off. "Aggele Mou, help me out here." His eyes begged at me.

I shot him a smile of pity and took the bottle from him. He quickly adjusted his toga so it sat a little more securely on his shoulder, then held out his arms to me. I raised an eyebrow, showing my confusion and silently asked why we were doing this.

Silas smiled encouragingly at me. "The oil makes me look shiny, and we will be using it a lot this weekend on all of us. It helps add highlights with the lighting, or something like that. Rub it all over me." I caught the mischievous glint appear in his eyes. "Don't be shy."

Warily, I poured some of the baby oil into the palm of my hand and spread it around. I reached and took Silas's forearm, pressing my hand against his skin. It was radiating heat. He still had his smile, but his eyes darkened considerably as I lightly rubbed the oil into his pores, working my way up his arms and into his bare shoulder.

"That's it, Aggele," he praised. "Just like that."

I was on tip toe to finish covering his shoulder, and I couldn't help but stare at the muscles rippling under the skin I just shined as he shifted. Alarm seized through me when I realized he was removing the shoulder part of the toga, lowering it over his other arm and baring the full naked glory of his back to me. I could only start breathing again when I realized he was holding the sheet around his waist to keep his modesty.

I was able to move again when he looked over his shoulder at me. "Keep going," he instructed.

Tenderly, my hands rubbed more of the oil into his back. I made sure to get every square inch slathered, and my mouth was running dry at the feel of solid muscles underneath my fingers. Silas was glorious. This had to be the best job on the face of the earth, and a part of me wondered what qualifications I needed to become a professional model oiler and how that would look on a résumé.

I circled around to face him when his back was thoroughly slicked. I looked up at him hesitantly. I didn't know what to do next. Silas held out his hand, so I put the bottle in it. "Thank you, Aggele. I can get the front, unless you'd rather do it for me." His eyes were still darkened in the same way as when I think he's about to kiss me. He was going to let me touch his chest? And stomach? He was giving me permission to caress his wall of muscles?

I was frozen with nerves. I didn't know what to do, or what to say. My mind went blank, yet fully and suddenly aware that Silas was in nothing but a bed sheet and I in a flimsy robe. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to become intimate with every plane, valley, dip, and ripple of his body, but my hands refused to work. I couldn't budge.

I squeaked in surprise when Victor was suddenly at my side and spoke, snapping me out of my cyclone of panic. "Oh good, Si. You already have the oil. I hope you're ready, because we're ready downstairs." Victor looked at me and scrunched his eyebrows. He must have seen me fail at trying to hide my panting breaths. "Are you okay, Princess?"

I bit my lip and nodded. I did not trust myself to speak, afraid it would come out in a croak.

"Yeah, I'm good." Silas was rubbing oil all over his chest, with one hand and holding up his sheet and the bottle with the other. His motions were fast and jerky, and his voice was throaty and gruff.

"Jesus, Gabe!" Nathan shouted from the dressing table. "You're going to poke my eye out!"

Gabriel stood in front of Nathan with one hand on his hip and the other pointing a pencil at Nathan's face. "Well, if you could keep the fuck still, I wouldn't stab your fucking eye. Now don't fucking move so I can get my fucking job done!" By the end of the line, Gabriel was yelling.

I could hear Nathan mutter under his breath as Victor took my shoulders and guided me to the stairs, "I hate eyeliner." My heart felt for him. I hated eyelash curlers. I flashed Nathan a sympathetic smile before Victor urged me down the stairs.

Immediately, Ms. Christine started ordering Silas around, starting with putting on his cowboy boots. The boots were huge. I could probably fit both of my feet into only one boot. Ms. Christine had Silas stand on the white section under the harsh glow of the lights. He practically radiated with the oil on his skin. Ms. Christine took a few moments to study him, making him turn around in circles, look up, look down, look to the far corner of the studio, and other various directions. She leaned up to him, circled, and backed away several times. She then grabbed one of the poles an umbrella was attached to and repositioned it, telling Victor to grab another and do the same. Neither of the guys questioned her or hesitated.

Then Ms. Christine surprised me and got onto the floor, laying on her stomach with her camera in her hands. The camera had a thick cable running out of it. She crawled in close to Silas's feet and started snapping pictures in rapid succession of the cowboy boots. An order to stand facing certain directions, or to put his toes a particular way, or to lean back on his heels happened after a handful of clicks of the camera, and Silas obeyed. After several dozen pictures were done, she got up and went to what looked like a computer screen set up further into the shadowed part of the studio and clicked through the photos she just took. I concluded the cable from the camera was somehow connected to that screen.

She did not spend much time at the screen before she got Victor to bring over a wooden barstool and got Silas to sit on it. She took more pictures of his boots, and then some more with Victor holding up a light box to Silas's feet from multiple directions.

Thirty minutes were spent on pictures of Silas's boots alone. Then she made him go behind another privacy screen I did not notice before and put on some jeans.

More pictures were made of Silas's boots, the only variation was with the addition of the jeans. Eventually, Ms. Christine moved to whole body shots. She had to back way up and had Victor help her reposition the lights several times. Silas was forced to stand, kneel, sit, lay, and lean in more ways that I could count, some with various props like stools, boxes, and poles. Eventually, he put on a cowboy hat, and the camera click click clicked away. Silas looked exquisite. I was sad to watch him put on a flannel shirt.

At some point, Nathan came down in his robe, and Ms. Christine told him to go ahead and put on his boots as she still snapped pictures of Silas. Gabriel showed up and touched up Silas's makeup every now and then. Nathan told me the lights were really hot, so they had to freshen up the makeup every so often. They had to refresh the oil slathered all over the skin too at times.

"Alright," Ms. Christine said. "Silas, take a break. Nathan! You're up!" She nodded at Gabriel, and Gabriel nodded back in acknowledgement before he double checked Nathan's hair and makeup and smacked his ass. Nathan yelped and glared evil daggers at Gabriel.

"Go get 'em, Tiger," Gabriel said as Nathan took to the white wall and heat of the lights. I was able to see Ms. Christine get back to her stomach to focus her camera on Nathan's boots before Gabriel took my hand and led me back up the stairs. "You're turn, Trouble." I was sad I was going to miss Nathan's turn at being photographed, but another part of me was elated I was going to be primped and made beautiful with Gabriel. He worked magic, and it was my turn to transform.

Volume was added to my hair and simple makeup applied. Gabriel was an expert, and I barely recognized the girl looking back at me in the mirror. He explained to me he didn't bother to wash my hair this time around because hair was actually easier to style and lasted longer when it was a little dirty with my natural oils. Gabriel got me to go ahead and put on some cowgirl boots while we went back down to wait for my turn.

I watched Nathan go through his poses, nearly bending over backward once. I gravitated to the viewing screen to see some of the pictures, and the one I liked the most was when his flannel shirt was tucked into his form fitting jeans, but left unbuttoned to displace his exquisite physique. His thumbs were in his pockets, chin tilted down, and his deep blue eyes looking up as he smiled like the boy next door. My boy next door.

Ms. Christine excused Nathan to take a break too as she and Victor readjusted lights and props for my turn. Gabriel, Nathan, and Silas all circled around me as we waited.

"Can I oil Sang up?" Nathan asked.

Every thought of mine came to a screeching halt. I didn't think the whole baby oil concept was applied to me too.

"What the fuck?!" Gabriel practically hissed while punching Nathan on the arm. "No!"

Silas beamed. "That's right. I get to oil Sang up instead."

Gabriel smacked Silas with the back of his hand onto his bare pectoral with a resounding smack. Silas rubbed his chest, of which was partially exposed because he was wearing his sheet as a toga once more. It looked odd because he was still wearing the boots with it. "I said no!" Gabriel barked.

"Why?" Silas nearly whined. "She oiled me up. I should return the favor."

"What?!" Nathan raised his voice. "Then I get Sang to oil me up next!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and groaned, waving his hands into the air.

I was so embarrassed, I wanted to melt into a puddle of goo and seep into the floor. Nearly in a panic, I grabbed the bottle myself and started liberally squirting it into my hands. I rubbed it into my skin vigorously before anyone could say anything or take the bottle away from me. I did not like the fighting or Gabriel feeling so stressed to protect my girlhood on top of everything else he had to do, so I solved the issue myself.

Gabriel softened and turned to me when he noticed my hurried and frantic pace. "Don't touch your face, Trouble," he said to me gently. "The oil left on your hands will wash off your makeup."

"Alright, Sang. We're ready for you," Ms. Christine called to me.

Still in my robe, I went to the white wall. The lights were indeed hot, and I winced as they flooded my retinas. I lost sight of the boys as they stood in the rest of the darkened studio. Ms. Christine had me do the same as the others: turn this way, turn that, look over here, now over there... The camera started clicking at my boots, and eventually I was allowed to put on a pair of daisy duke shorts and a flannel shirt. Gabriel tied the shirt off just under my breasts, and things got awkward when Ms. Christine told him to move the shirt further and further down my shoulders, exposing more and more skin. The shirt nearly fell off a few times, and I flushed pink at each attempt for gravity to expose me. I sat on a stool, leaned against it, bent over it, and hung off it. I don't remember when the cowgirl hat wound up on my head, or when Gabriel braided my hair into pigtails with ribbons over my shoulders. I did not hear a peep from any of the boys when I was told to turn around and bend over to touch my toes. Even Gabriel's cursing had stopped to let the click click click of the camera sound. Honestly, the hardest part was staring into the hot lights, trying to make the facial expressions Ms. Christine demanded of me without blinking every time the lights flashed and the camera clicked. Coy, surprised, mischievous, happy. I didn't think I did that well, but she said my 'come hither' stare was superb. I guarantee I nailed the shy and deer in headlights looks the few times she asked for it.

My turn ended, and I was expecting a flourish or fanfare. At least a five minute break. Instead all I got was Victor shoving a bottle of water at my face and Ms. Christine hollering at Silas to get up here with me. He marched up in only a pair of jeans and his boots and the widest grin I've ever seen.

Victor was more involved with assisting directly with us when I was posing with Silas, then Nathan. Ms. Christine would tell him to move an arm here, prop a boot there, help me twist further than my spine could humanly allow.

With Silas, the most awkward position I found myself in was kneeling on a box and pressing my cheek against Silas's stomach, under his navel. The button and fly to his jeans were open. He wasn't wearing any underwear. I imagined Ms. Christine was going to have to digitally edit the red out of my face. The best pose I found us in was with his back to the camera. He picked me up with his hands under my butt, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, hooking my boot-clad ankles together. We both hid our faces under his cowboy hat, and we just stared into each other's eyes as the camera clicked away. I bit my lip and grinned, ecstatic that I was having pictures done of one of my legendary Silas hugs.

For Nathan, the hardest part was when I had to stare into the camera with my back pressed against a wall-like prop, lids half closed and lips parted. That part I could do. However, I lost it when Nathan had to pretend to kiss his way up my face and Ms. Christine wanted it to look more passionate. He had to practically eat my jaw, and all I could think about was his love for zombies. He would utter a quiet, "Gnar," and I would break into a giggle fit. It took Victor pulling out his phone and pulling up music of my favorite composer for me to finally calm down enough to get enough shots in.

The pose I appreciated the most with Nathan was where he was standing with his thumbs in his pockets again, only this time, I was wrapped around him with a hug from his back. One arm snaked around his waist, and the other curled over his pectoral and grasped at his collar bone. I was looking wistfully over his shoulder.

I didn't remember much of when the three of us were up at the same time. All I knew was that I was tired and hungry. All I remembered thinking as my limbs were pulled and re-positioned for the hundredth time was that there was no possibility for a girl to be sandwiched between two guys in more than two dozen ways, but we managed the impossible. I felt like one of Nathan's zombies by the time Kota came into the garage and stood to the edge of the white floor, out of the camera's view. I started drooling when I noticed he had boxes of sandwiches in his hands, then I noticed his dropped-jaw stare. He was pushing his glasses further up his nose when I realized how he saw Silas, Nathan, and me. I was sitting precariously on a sheet-draped stool that was about to tip over. Nathan was straddling and looked to be humping one of my legs while the other was bent up his side. My torso was craned around toward Silas, who was kissing his way up my arm with those dark eyes staring into my own.

The camera stopped clicking when my sheepish smile curled my lips and my skin burned in yet another blush.

Kota cleared his throat and pulled at the neck of his polo shirt. When he spoke, his voice was cracked and squeaky. "Lunch is here."