Worth
Song: I Need You To Love Me by BarlowGirl
Max
I walk into Helevenne Photography Group as a mangy avian girl. I come through the door, am whisked away to a stylist, and all of that begins to change. First of all, I had showered before coming here, knowing that they'd appreciate that. My first stylist, a plump lady named Opal, leads me to a chair.
"Okay!" she says brightly, combing her puffy fingers through my hair.
"I see that you have had some highlights done." she says, pointing to a blondish sunstreak.
"Um...no offence, but no. That's natural." I said defensively. She stares at it, the nods slowly.
"Well, anywho, we better get started!" she gives me a mischevious smile that makes me want to leak from this chair to the big, open skies. An hour later, she instructs me not to look in the mirror, but to wait in my chair. A thin, blonde lady waltzes up to my area soon after, curls bobbing. I still smell burning hair in the air from Opal's visit.
"Hi, I'm Mariana. I'm your makeup artist today." she says. I nod, picking up on a Russian accent. She studies my eyes and her own baby blue ones open a little wider.
"Your eyes are like milky chocolates, Mahxeemum!" she says. So I've been told.
She applies, cream, serums, eyeshadows, mascara, and eyeliner and tons of other products. No matter how much she uses, my skin still feels light and airy. Next = wardrobe. A short, slender girl who introduces herself as Libby leads me to a large closet stuffed with dresses. She picks a long, white one to match my wings. It comes with two identical slices in the back for me to use them in the photo shoot. (Ps- almost forgot, this is for a magazine. Maybe I'll get lucky and Mr. Leave-a-dumb-letter-for-his-girlfriend-when-he-leaves will see it!)
The dress feels good on my soft skin, and a wide brown belt goes with it. Next, I'm ushered to the scene, which is simply blue with clouds. The cameras flash, I'm told to go home after the 500th picture (I'm not kidding.), so I do. A few days later, I pick up the magazine and I gasp at myself on the cover. My hair is perfectly straight and shiny. I'm standing, but the dress still falls above my knees a bit. My wings glitter with health, and my eyes are a warm, striking brown. My brown flats even look glamorous. The title of this article with the photos?
'Meet Maximum, avian mutant hottie! Pictures inside!'
Hottie? They're going to have a hard time with that. But surprisingly, when I go to put the magazine back, there's a line. For my autograph.
Fang
My Gang cruises past countless shops until I nearly choke on my Skittles looking at a magazine in the window of Claire's. It's Maximum...only she's girly and powerful and confident-looking. And...hot. Not that she wasn't already, but now...wow. The cover read something about the pictures, so I dashed inside and bought the magazine. My Gang still looked at me funny as I tore through the pages. 250 pages of photos. Everything about her looks stunning. Just as I see her always. She has no idea what's she worth to me.
She never will.
A/N: A more Flock-centered chapter group coming up...