Chapter 2: Fashion Photoshoot
Quistis | April 21

"Morning, Quisty!"

Selphie's effervescent greeting resounded through the cafeteria. Her curls looked especially buoyant today, and she was wearing that knowing smile which could only mean one of two things: blatant mischief or a kooky stroke of genius. In her case, probably both.

"Morning, Selphie," greeted Quistis. "You're here to officially claim your prize, aren't you?"

Selphie set down her tray. "You know it!"

"Whatever you assign to me, I'll do my best," pledged Quistis, taking a bite of fried egg.

She clapped her hands with glee. "I already checked your calendar. Since you're off duty today, would you mind jumping right into things after breakfast?"

Quistis' curiosity was piqued. "Sounds good to me."

"Yay! Okay, so this year I'm really trying to expand the scope of the Festival."

Selphie paused to slather an impressive amount of cream cheese onto her bagel.

"I reached out to some potential vendors who might be interested in hosting a booth or getting some stage time. And it just so happens that my best friend from Trabia recently started her own fashion boutique!"

"Vendors will certainly make the Festival more lively. What do you need me to do?"

"Model some of my friend's clothes, of course!" said Selphie with a grin.

Quistis blanched. "Me? Model?" She had expected something along the lines of arranging for catering or figuring out music.

Selphie nodded energetically. "Rinoa's gonna do your hair and makeup, and I'll take charge of the photoshoot."

"Speaking of Rinoa, she would be so much more ideal for this type of activity," Quistis protested feebly.

"You would be the perfect embodiment of my friend's brand!" Selphie said, chewing thoughtfully on a strawberry. "Plus I already got all of the samples in your size, Quisty. Don't worry, we'll keep things small-scale. Squall said it's not necessary to write up an agreement or anything like that. We're talking about a mom-and-pop business here. You would be like an unofficial brand ambassador, but only for the purposes of promoting her goods during the Festival. After it's over, there are no more obligations on your part!"

Selphie was pretty much making it impossible for Quistis to back out now. She took a moment to consciously remind herself that Selphie was an elite mercenary with an impossibly creative mind, despite what her childlike demeanor and zany moments might seem to indicate. Quistis would simply have to trust her on this decision.

"Okay, okay," she gave in, smiling. "It's really not my thing but I'll do it for you, Selphie."

"Woohoo! You're the best, Quisty."

"Let me just stop by my room and freshen up. I'll put in my contacts, too."

"You betcha!"

The girls rendezvoused in Rinoa's dorm room, where Angelo woofed a hospitable welcome to the visitors.

A handful of outfits, all dresses, were draped across the bed. Quistis was enchanted by the unique designs: neutral, muted tones juxtaposed with bright, happy hues; sweet and princess-esque floral appliqués; gauzy tulle that swirled and floated. The craftsmanship was fastidious, as she could not detect a single stitch or fold out of alignment. The fabric flowed and rippled like running water, not always symmetrical but bringing a skilled sense of geometry and balance to each look. Quistis could picture herself wearing these clothes while having a picnic in some fantastical patch of sun-drenched meadow.

"Aren't these clothes nice? You're going to look amazing!" Rinoa gushed.

"Thanks, Rinoa. You would too, but Selphie said it has to be me."

"I promise that you won't regret it, Quisty," chirped Selphie. "Hey, is this a new plushie?" She picked up an oversized Cactuar doll from the bed and hugged it affectionately.

"Yes, it's from Squall."

"Aww, how sweet."

Angelo trotted over and sniffed Selphie eagerly. She gave the dog a friendly pat on the back.

"I didn't expect the outfits to be so couture," commented Rinoa. "I thought you said your friend's shop is in Trabia, though. Do these outfits sell in that type of climate?"

"Most of her sales are online," explained Selphie. She leaned down to admire the dresses. "Hmm. At first I was just gonna do the shoot around Garden, but now I'm thinking that these babies would stand out more against a natural backdrop. Where are we stationed today, anyway?"

"We're right by Timber," answered Rinoa promptly.

"Ooh!" said Selphie. "What do you say we girls go to Mandy Beach?"

"I think that would work well!" agreed Rinoa. "Plenty of sunlight and wind to make Quisty look even more gorgeous than she already is."

"Okay, seriously—no more compliments today," laughed Quistis nervously. "And yes please, I'd be happy with any location where people won't be gawking at me."

"The beach it is!"

Rinoa steered Quistis to the vanity and started pulling out her tools of the trade from various sections of the table. Quistis was mesmerized by the glitter-encrusted cases and the subtly feminine pouches that housed makeup brushes, lipstick tubes, and eyeshadow palettes in every color and shade imaginable.

Contrary to her initial reaction, Quistis found herself looking forward to the photoshoot. As one who led her life by order and predictability, here was a novel opportunity to try something totally out of character. Something that wasn't just another necessity on another SeeD mission on another workday. She figured she would enjoy this activity to her fullest capacity, especially because it was making the girls so darn happy. And who knew? Maybe the experience would defy her expectations in some wonderful way.

Selphie turned on a white noise playlist. A calming soundscape of her favorite train rides filtered through the room.

Trains in a rainstorm…

Quistis closed her eyes and allowed Rinoa to orchestrate her stylist charm.

Trains rumbling and chugging…

Selphie clacked away on her laptop.

Trains on a summer night…

Angelo wrestled with the Cactuar doll.

Trains slowing to a stop…

Quistis later observed herself in the mirror, awestruck.

Her hair was fashioned in a delicate pattern of waterfall braids and mermaid waves, strands decorated with tiny silver brooches that evoked the night firmament. Every feature of her face was highlighted, enhanced, or deepened in a way that was organic without being overpowering—a true testament to Rinoa's magnificent sense of artistry.

"I'm speechless, Rinoa."

Rinoa grinned. "Hopefully in a good way."

Selphie hopped up and down. "Of course in a good way!"

"I look transformed, but at the same time you haven't changed my essence. You're really good at this," Quistis praised her.

Rinoa curtsied in gratitude.

"Oh, shoot!"

"What is it, Selphie?"

"I completely forgot to consider wardrobe changes!" she exclaimed, frowning at her oversight. "We'll have to come back to the room each time."

"I don't mind walking back and forth," said Quistis. "I can keep my boots on, right?"

"We could borrow Zell's T-board," joked Rinoa. "And yeah, I think your boots actually go really well with the clothes!"

"I just thought of something," interjected Quistis. "The ballroom isn't being utilized these days, right?"

Selphie's eyes lit up. "You're right. I remember there's a dressing room there!"

"Then why don't we just move the photoshoot into that space?" suggested Quistis. "But let's save our favorite outfit for last. We might as well go to the beach for that one and have a little bit of fun."

"Yes, that sounds perfect!" said Rinoa happily. "We can go pick up the ballroom keys from Squall's office."

Quistis insisted on disguising herself with a hoodie as they departed.

The morning went by with a delirious sense of fun. Rinoa brought along some cosmetics and provided light touch-ups between each outfit. Selphie was attentive to the process, occasionally calling out wacky theatrical directives to Quistis. The latter burst out laughing several times as she attempted to move her way through various poses. Selphie's unpredictability certainly kept things diverse and exciting, and Quistis admired the way she tried to push the Festival tradition forward rather than simply preserve it.

By the time the trio wrapped up their final shoot at the beach, Quistis was loath to leave behind the soothing flecks of sand and the salt-infused breeze. How she would have loved to spend the rest of the day here with a cozy mystery paperback and a soft throw blanket.

"Hey," said Rinoa. "We've got company!"

Selphie shielded her eyes from the sun.

Quistis turned in their direction.

A tall figure was striding toward them with a sense of purpose in his steps, gunblade hanging loosely by his side. The sight of him was familiar and inviting.

"Hi, Seifer!" called out Rinoa, waving at him.

He lifted a hand in greeting.

"What's up, Seifer?" asked Selphie.

Seifer was about to answer her when he recognized Quistis. He stopped dead in his tracks and gazed at her with unguarded interest.

Quistis locked eyes with him. Her throat felt a bit constricted.

Selphie waved her arms at him, breaking the spell. "Hey, hey! How can we help you, Seifer?"

He turned to Rinoa. "I'm working on a project," he stated casually. "Need the ballroom keys. Your boyfriend said you've got 'em?"

"Oh, yeah." She fished the keyring out of her makeup bag and passed it to him. "We're done for the day. Let's go back to Garden together!"

Selphie and Rinoa dashed ahead, giggling madly for reasons unknown to Quistis. Angelo ran after them, yapping with vigor.

"So much for going back together," said Quistis. "What's the project?" she asked him with interest.

Seifer slowly broke out into a grin as they began their trek back.

"I'll answer you if you answer me first. What exactly were you guys doing back there?"

"Modeling for a fashion photoshoot," she muttered, turning crimson.

He threw his head back in laughter. "Aw, you're no fun. Thought I would enjoy squeezing the truth out of you. Festival business?"

"Yes," she nodded, eager to change the subject. "Okay, your turn."

(The wind picked up, agitating his hair into baby-like wisps.)

"Garden's hosting an event next month," he said.

(A few strands fluttered across Seifer's eyelids and settled there.)

"In the ballroom?"

(Today his eyes looked unusually earthy, smoky.)

"That's what I'm thinking, but we'll see. Remember the time we were stuck in that meeting where Commander Puberty made us all submit ideas for events?"

Quistis sighed. "After all this time, you should really give up that horrid nickname."

He gave her a roguish look. "It doesn't count if I don't say it to his face."

"Then I shudder to think of what you call me behind my back."

"I don't call you anything behind your back," he told her seriously.

She glanced over at him. Seifer appeared to be sincere, but her sauciness won out. "I don't believe you."

"You're gonna eat your words someday."

"Make me," she challenged playfully. "Anyway, what were you saying about Squall?"

(Something about Seifer was magnetic today.)

"Yeah, so you remember being at that meeting?"

(Maybe it was the way their surroundings accentuated his features, as if he was at home in the sand and the water and the wind—preferences she had thought were hers alone.)

"How could I forget? I couldn't think of a single idea so I ended up copying Selphie's."

(An image of him at a beach bonfire, spiked hot cocoa in hand.)

Seifer's expression was priceless. "Quistis Trepe, did you just admit to cheating?"

"Excuse me! It was more like borrowing. And it's not like we were taking a test or anything."

He laughed, thoroughly pleased by her indignation.

"So what happened at that meeting?" she pressed.

"I turned in some asinine idea just to spite him, but then irony came back to bite me." He scowled. "Squall chose my submission out of everyone else's. Said it was a fantastic suggestion for an event and told me to take the lead on it." He kicked a stray seashell out of his way, causing a family of seagulls to squawk in protest.

Quistis placed a hand over her mouth to suppress laughter. She couldn't decide which was more amusing: his simmering moodiness (which was admittedly kind of cute) or the fact that he had actually used the word 'asinine' in a sentence (vocabulary she had recently taught him in her attempts to reprogram his pottymouth tendencies).

"So your plan backfired. But, isn't it a nice feeling to be chosen for something?"

He grimaced. "I predict a crap ton of overtime in my future. I don't get why we have to attend those useless meetings anyway."

"You know the Commander's just trying to institute a more democratic process for SeeD…"

Seifer merely grunted in response.

"Also, I wish you well on your new vocational calling as an event planner." She smiled at him sweetly.

"Please. One Selphie is more than enough."

"It wouldn't be a bad idea to tap into her expertise."

"Yeah, guess so. Who knew being a SeeD could be so damn whimsical?"

As they passed through Garden's front gate, Quistis automatically slid herself into the jacket and hastily threw on the hood.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying not to be noticed, of course."

A naughty glint appeared in his eyes. "I can think of a lot of ways to draw attention to you right now."

"You'd better not."

They walked in silence for some time, when suddenly:

"MISS TREPE, I'd love to get your opinion on my academic paper!"

A flurry of heads twisted in their direction.

"Seifer, shut up!" she hissed frantically.

"QUISTIS, please tell me where you got your—ugh!"

"Sorry!" gasped Quistis. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Seifer was rubbing his arm where she had emphatically backhanded him.

"You have fists of fury, woman. I think you missed your calling."

"You really think so? I'll have to ask Zell to give me lessons."

They had arrived at the dorms.

Quistis turned to him. "Good luck with the event, Seifer."

"I'll need it," said Seifer, offering her a peaceable grin.

It was a short jaunt that ended far too soon.