The last place an antique Rolls Royce needed to be was cooped up inside the humidity of a banquet hall. Laverne Spark, the world-class owner of Corinne, had made her return to the cattle call, typically uneager. Years of watching a pool of foolish girls try to become supermodels had washed the old woman bored. The mother agencies these girls came from were generic nonetheless, so the runway event was hardly going to be special.
It had only been fifteen or so minutes parked and waiting. The old fashionista looked like she was rapidly overheating. Hell, she didn't even like her inherited position in AFTRA, but the red wine every other night wasn't a bad touch. Needless to say, Mrs. Spark was not impressed.
The posh old wagon frowned a set of wrinkles round her mouth, and sighed begrudgingly. The audience was loud, disruptive, and all over their smart phones. Spark specifically demanded to be placed where the air was cooled and dry. Her engine felt constricted, more than usual.
Her stale blue eyes scanned the scene again. Laverne prodded her handkerchief-holding antenna to the window of her assistant next to her. The vehicle gave Mrs. Spark full attention.
"It's muggy in here," the orange Rolls Royce fanned herself with the red cloth, "Why must they have me wait in a cloud of diesel?"
The blonde painted PT Cruiser agreed, shaking her hood indignantly, "Ma'am would you like a pint of iced Prestone?"
"No," the Royce didn't look at her assistant, "You can't afford it anyhow."
Blatant to say the least. Laverne had been cordially invited, and she would make her grand appearance, try to be impressed by amateur cars who thought their beauty shots and billing forms were enough for the big league. On occasion, a vehicle was lucky enough to be sponsored under her patent name brand, Corimme. From rims, to hubcaps, to windshield lenses and fibreglass spray, the company was reowned, known by cars worldwide. An opportunity young models dreamed of, and Spark loathed. Beauty was fleeting, fame was fleeting. Personality? No one cared even if you were as interpersonal as the Princess of Wales. It's all about the money.
The vents above the temple arena shuddered on, circulating cold streams that froze the old Rolls Royce in parts she didn't know she had. Synchronously, she would exaggerate her suffering, finding the five minutes of unfiltered warmth too much to bear. Then the PT Cruiser fed the straw to her wrinkled lips. Two sips later, she was complaining of the cold, wishing for a hot beverage. There was no in between, only treachery in separate waves.
Some said it matched her soul.
Presently, an Acura sports car made sure to keep himself parked a distance away from her. He always enjoyed Laverne Spark's reactions, the only thing truly palpable about the entrepreneur. She was a long time co-worker— sort of. The business required many networks, and Laverne Spark was a big one.
She fanned her grille, commanding her assistant to fetch coolant. The Cruiser was too giddy for her own good, and that would fade with a few more shifts.
His chrome taupe fibreglass glistened under strobe lights, revealing his rear license plate. Inscribed on it: "HUB," a nod of his last name.
Daniel Hub was no legend in the world of scouting, billing and booking. The job didn't always come with benefits either, namely the Queen of Potholes nearby. Her reputation was faltering in the last few years. After age rusted her belts, Laverne scorned all editorials aspiring under her. There wasn't plenty of room to bloom in the industry, but the old hag didn't need to burn bridges for young talent either way.
The Honda mix eased his shocks, watching the pools of freshly put together cars make their runs down the cruise way. This wasn't a cattle call, so Daniel could exercise his new outline for criteria. One, maybe two cars he could sign and market. These girls had portfolios with their respective agencies, so he could get more info about them if need be.
Hub had worked on Dinoco's Talent Team as a Booker for six years. The company did more than take care of him, they treated him like family, paying medical expenses when his axle snapped from overdriving state by state. This was one of his better gigs in the long list of past careers. Dinoco Talent was cleaner, carried less mileage.
Collective awes filled the room as the renowned Jaguar, Jin entered the runway. She had always done a number on her seductive appearance, and even now, the coupe sported a velvet paint finish. Nothing unusual of her, but she was established and controversial. He had enough of dealing with that kind of behaviour in the industry years ago. In fact, his own daughter was better behaved, and she was only a school-aged tyke. Jin was another inflated ego. She was a Jaguar, he was a Honda. Although luxury Acura lines were in his make, Daniel knew cars with that kind of privilege all too well in the entertainment business.
Daniel kept quiet. Indifferent eyes scanning what he could possibly see backstage. Hub had a job to do— scout. Find the next runner up for a serious offer.
The music changed with the lighting, dropping a heavier pop beat.
The Acura leaned back, eyes bored as they followed another car, a Camry cruising the runway to bubble-gum pop. The silver shine of her paint was striking, and her features were sharp, contouring a presentable done-up face. Yet again, it didn't do much for him. Dan needed something Dinoco Style could work with, not mould entirely from scratch. Something approachable.
Hub peered at the Royce through his mirrors, curious of her reaction. She looked half-impressed, which meant she was half-satisfied. Daniel would take it anyway. Maybe the Camry was lucky, Laverne was roused for once. Common cars hardly piqued her interest.
Daniel was seldom in checking the time. A lucky guess was that twenty minutes had passed. Twenty long minutes. The music switched constantly, as if advertising each car cruising. He never understood why the M.C did this, perhaps it was to spice things up, nonetheless it did wonders to his patience. The sports Acura yawned noisily, his mood unconsciously improved as royal blue strobe lights spun over and around the audience. A softer tune played melodic house hymns and Hub couldn't help but turn his interest back to the runway.
He could see feathers, which was eccentric. Cabs parked ahead raised on their suspension to get a glimpse of the rare beauty cruising the stage.
Dan's hard eyes followed the car, softening as he studied her magnetism. She was the first Honda he'd ever seen on a runway. Adorned in shades of Pacific blue, with an extravagant crown of royal plumes. The jewels, sparkled around its center, just above her windshield. She cruised at a reasonable pace, eyes fixed in a daydream and exploration ahead. On occasion, she checked her surrounding. A bashful smile grazed her lips just as a glimmer twinkled down her body. The Acura raised on his wheels, peering at her rear license plate to get a name. The distance was too much to get a clear reading.
Hub drove himself around parked patrons, some important, others just guests. His awe-filled smile returned as he got a better look at the glowing girl, just as she made her pivot back down the catwalk.
Dan had owned some Element Sleek Rims himself, and they lived up to the name— near perfect condition after a year and more of casual use. Her rims matched with a light halo of blue around the inner tread. The cursive ESL logo center cap rotated gracefully with her cruise. She must've had her paint professionally done, as finely carved hibiscuses danced around her back fenders. A pink ombré from distance, and creativity up close. She was as original as he had seen.
"Who is she?" Hub parked next to a silver Audi and the two watched the model graze by.
"I don't know," the car's sauvé voice came. He kept his eyes glued on her retreating rear, "but she's with ESL."
Dan took the time to analyze her. She was modern, and her not-so-obvious soft-top revealed her to be a convertible. The curves of her frame enunciated femininity, contrast to her youthful face. There must have been some Mitsubishi sprinkled in her lineage, as her rear was rounded, wheels dainty.
His engine purred low, she was one of a kind. He needed her name.
A unison of hushed chatter followed her departure. Dan adjusted his mirror, finding the old fashionista far away in the stands uninterested. She appeared to sigh, cooling herself down with a fan grasped in her antenna. Her eyes flowed aimlessly through the event. She had made up her mind already. No one impressed her.
Dan shook his hood rolling his eyes lightheartedly. He felt a rush of excitement despite her mood. Laverne was impossible, and wrong this time. This car— her, the Honda was something new. His eyes followed the convertible again, just missing her disappear behind the backstage curtains. The image of her beauty was branded in his mind with those soft piano hums. Hub had never seen anything like it.
Dan headed back to his entourage, disrupting the Royce's lack of participation. She paused fanning herself to glance his way curtly, stopping him in the isle, "Daniel, Daniel… " she shook her hood in disdain, "what's gotten you all perky like a Trans-Am in heat?"
Dan was accustomed to ignoring her snide remarks. The Royce was a bitter old car that needed a tune up ages ago, engine and personality. Let it be known, she was also a professional gossiper.
"I saw potential in the last model," the Acura's point glance met the old car's bored frown. Spark raised her lids, surprise crossed her wrinkles.
"Did you see her? The car in blue? She's a stunner."
The audience shared a collection of praise as a Benz cruised the stage. Her paint a consistent matte black, a long, glimmering gown trailed behind her. The new style matched the limited edition matte series rims she sported.
Mrs. Spark never took her bland stare off the handsome Acura in front, "Tell me," she sighed after a long moment, "What do you possibly find so attractive about a Honda?"
The comment was practically spat out, and the Royce's eyes searched his for a serious answer. Briefly, Dan glanced to the Chrysler Cruiser assisting the old bag, unable to shake the dumbfound from his hood. The Cruiser pretended to ignore their conversation, eyes firmly glued on the runway. Learned behaviour, perfected in dealing with a narcissist.
The Acura's eyes glared, the action very faint, "She may be an amateur, but she has the grace. Her face is soft, no heavy mods or angular features. She's youthful." Hub would be the first to admit he was jumping to decisions faster than his normal judgement, however, something clicked. Dan believed in destiny, and she was calling him.
The Royce remained undeterred, "Hondas don't excite me. Commoners with little fantasy in them. You never see them in places like this temple."
Dan rested his teeth on his lower lip, eyes squinting in stupor. The line was being crossed, and on his grounds for authorization, not hers.
"Now an antique Pregout," the old bag huffed a lustful sigh, watching the car in question cruise the runway ahead, "That's something to look at."
Daniel felt his engine twist. This wasn't a first time ocurrance. The miserable woman was keen on her respectability politics, categorizing cars based on make and model. From there she began her mental gymnastics of deciding if she considered them to be worth her while. Dan was a Honda at heart, his family was a mixture. Acura or not, he'd be damned if he had to listen to her nonsense any more. Tex Dinoco wouldn't have it either.
The Acura gave the idol a once over, "You're losing your sight too." Spark exchanged a skeptical glance with Daniel.
"Too?"
He raised a lid, nodding once, "You lost your looks years ago."
The blonde Cruiser returned. Balanced upon her hood was a pint of Prestone coolant. Hub paid her little attention on his departure, and she exchanged glances between the two, sensing the tension immediately. May the manufacturer bless her assistant's commission pay, Spark's breathy scoff was enough to spell anger. She had it coming.
Reversing into his parking spot, Dan did little in fighting an urge to ask those in the vicinity of ESL's recent face. Despite his poise professionalism, the Acura had the convertible's features burned into his mind. He rolled his tongue, pondering her age category. Her body had curves, subtle yet distinguished. She was of age, she couldn't be any less. Strict policies prevented minors, and Dan would inference the age to be in line with Jin, final teens.
The floodlights faded to amber, turning the environment to a dusk haze. House rhythm rolled in with the next car on the runway.
Dan's eyes loomed over his task book. The audience did their cinematic awes again. Whether or not they were truly impressed never phased him, but the noise was a distraction.
The Acura's stare was fixed on the curtains to backstage. The soft-top was hidden away, likely hopeless without direction, and hopefully eager. Hub needed contacts, a portfolio and her name. Once this catwalk event was said and done, he was going to brighten an aspiring model's day. One call at a time.
Many years ago, Reyna idled in this very spot as an junior agent. Backstage was crowd, mostly Mustangs, Audis and a Boxter here or there. Back then, spoilers were a statement, and the girls rocked them with pride. The categories were shallow, the media wasn't locked onto mass marketing.
The girls could enjoy themselves, and Reyna had seen a drabble of what they called 'Steam Punk' mixed in. The contestants spoke to each other, cheered for one another. She had seen six girls become a group of friends… it lasted for a while, until one wanted to be the top contender. Although there was still isolated vain, individuality was supreme, at least during amateur cattle calls back then.
Reyna blinked away inner thoughts, focussing on the lonesome dressing room around her. She was punctual, always arriving too early to see her clients. Eddie told her to make it a small vacation in the meanwhile, enjoy the local scene. Reyna wasn't having any of it, she hadn't seen her protégée in weeks.
"… When you were with that race car, and I was just tired and stressed out, so yeah, sorry."
Voices. The BMW peered from the inter-connecting powder room to see three cars. A Camry, modern and stylish red, white Le Mans stripes through her hood to rear. The Benz was a rare matte black, rims included. Blue lights on her undercarriage glowed, matching her sky blue eyes. The Honda was a lovely Bermuda blue, pink and red flowers on her back fenders. Her roof housed a crown, shimmery and daring, s contrast to her soft, brown eyes. The girls idled behind the ropes merging into the runway. Reyna almost didn't recognize Melise until she spoke. The convertible was different, striking. Together the trios elaborate outfits were spectacular, nonetheless distracting.
Reyna narrowed her lids, listening keenly as grains on the carpet crunched under new tires. Another car entered their spat.
"Ohmigosh, you actually said 'sorry'?" the Benz snorted, "When has that ever happened!"
The Camry hardly took the joke lightly. She rapped her tire aggressively to her friend's side, the sound of metal and a yelp echoed the hall.
Melise was not amused, "Stop hitting her. She was just joking around."
Reyna reversed from view, cringing. Even with her buttery tone, the criticism was blunt.
"I do apologize though?" the Camry shot the Benz a look of contempt, "I don't hear anyone laughing at your joke, so how is it funny?"
The Benz bit her lip, trying to ease the ache on her door. She glimpsed for any dents before eyeing her friend scornfully.
" 'Lisa, we just made up as friends and she's already mad again."
Silence. Reyna tried to peer, but her movement would be too obvious. She let her hearing tell her what she wished she could see.
"Lisa" her voice was almost a whisper, rising slightly in question, "Who is Lisa?"
The one with the black spray paint, the Benz, giggled rapidly, "Yoou! Duh, that's your name!"
"Melise," the convertible stated, expression wholesomely muddled, "Melise is my name. I told you that more than five times already."
The Camry smirked, turning the tables, "Elise?"
The black sports car shook her tires between the cars, grille twisted in confusion, "Wait, her name is actually Elise? You're confusing me!"
Melise sighed, a smile growing as her red sedan friend snickered. Talk about how to fix an argument 101.
"You confuse yourself, Merina," the Camry lectured, "That joke went right over your hood."
The trio began driving into the powder room. Reyna dipped her hood down, gritting when she found her chassis rubbing against carpet that was probably never vacuumed.
Melise's crown of feathers danced as she parked herself in front of a vanity. The two vehicles accompanying her parked to her left, liming beside her.
"I heard Laverne Spark was at this calling event," the Camry pursed her lips, after show anxiety growing, "I've dreamed of being sponsored by Corrime since I was in middle school."
Laverne Spark was at this event huh? That would explain the Le Mans paintjob. Reyna was an agent herself, mostly doing paperwork and interviews, but she knew of Spark and her love of racing stripes in the right places on a car. Everyone knew the icon, or at least, her designer rims. Corrime, the highest rim fashion brand.
"I had no idea she was here! I hope she liked my chrome and matte!" Merina puffed.
Melise blinked, " Who is Laverne Spark?"
The Camry went through three different expressions, one of stupor, confusion, then annoyance, "You don't know Laverne Spark? Seriously!?"
Merina shrugged, laughing nervously, "Well, basically no one knows her, but apparently she's a witch behind closed garages."
The Camry's expression fell, and she raised her tires in defeat, "That's the best answer you're gonna get Melise, because that lady is too legendary to talk about— we'll be here all night."
Melise smirked, "If she's so legendary, how come I haven't heard of her, Emla?"
Emla shrugged, "Well, that's because you're drinking buckets of IGNTR: Liquid Adrenaline. Little Mrs. Storm."
The convertible's blue hood became rosy, and she pressed a tread against her mouth. Merina giggled in amusement.
"Please, change the subject," Melise murmured.
The Camry stretched, "I'm just glad we're all together and getting along," she peered intently at the Honda, "Melise, you look stunning, just like an original Dinoco Girl."
Melise smiled sheepishly, "Thank you," she smiled confidently at her reflection, "I figured—"
Her speech was cut short by a glimpse of the approaching BMW, free from her hiding spot. A gentle smile grazed her grille, and she looked between the girls.
"I don't mean to intrude… " the sports car breathed looking a reversing Melise up and down, "But I wasn't expecting you to be finished the runway this early."
Merina exchanged a look with the red sedan, obviously confused by the elegant woman's presence. Melise's mouth hung open, her eyes remembering the BMW.
"Reyna... it's been so long," Melise reached forward, embracing the coupe. When her mentor left her alone, Reyna was all she had out here.
"What are you doing here?" Melise reversed shyly, trying to ease the awkward meeting.
Reyna's eyes shifted between the two models at Melise's side, "Hello ladies, I'm her manager. I need to speak with her alone."
Emla's grille crinkled, and she widened her eyes. If Reyna knew her any better from earlier behaviour, she was a bit of a drama queen.
Melise chewed her lip nervously as the two cars left the vicinity. She watched Reyna as the door shut, ready for the consequences. She wasn't visiting for no reason.
Anxiety clouded the room. Reyna looked serious, "Did he hurt you?"
"Who?"
"Jonah. Where did he go?"
The Honda sighed, feeling the disgust creeping in. Truthfully, she had forgotten about him. All unpleasantry surrounding the ugly former mentor was soothingly replaced by priorities, goals and one night in a trailer.
"I don't know," Melise responded. She turned to face her vanity again, "and I don't need him either. Perfectly fine by myself, as you can see."
She toyed with a flattened blue feather that had found itself on her tread. Reyna observed Melise lifting her tire to examine the decoration, her dramatically esquisite downcast eyes suggesting she would rather discuss something else.
Melise reversed some inches, glancing at the BMW once more. Her voice came with exceptional mellow, "How is Mister Turo doing?"
"We're—" Reina cleared her throat, Melise gave her an odd once over, "He's doing better, busy, the usual."
Melise nodded, she thought some more, "What is the point of all this?"
Reyna appeared confused, "You mean the modelling? Well, ESL needed a face, and you already know IGNTR's CEO wanted to apologize to you in the most modern way he could."
The blue Honda turned abruptly, "I know, but, what I mean is, how can I go further than just rims? This can't be it?"
Reyna smiled, she could work her magic here. A knock on the dressing room door said otherwise.
"Excuse me? I'm looking for—" Reyna and Melise exchanged perplexed glances at the man's voice, "Miss… Melise? It's urgent."
Reyna's eyes became stern and she drove over, pushing the door open. Melise's soft eyes remained calculated. Outside idled a savvy taupe colored sports Acura.
He nodded once to Reyna, and looked at Melise slowly. His eyes were prominent and mature, "I hope I'm not intruding, I know most of the girls have left."
Reyna glanced between the two, Melise put herself in park, her own state assessing the unfamiliar car in front of her.
"I'm Daniel Hub, Senior Booker with Dinoco Talent," He nodded down to a badge on his quarter panel. Melise's eyes scanned over it. That was definitely the Dinoco logo.
"Nice to meet you, Daniel," Melise answered, she looked to Reyna briefly before turning back to Daniel, "How did you know my name?"
The Acura rolled into the room leaving the door open behind him, "You're on the rooster for the campaign. You're with IGNTR: Liquid Adrenaline right now, right? Right." He glanced to her side finding the familiar halo rings on her tires. They matched perfectly.
"Can we chat and cruise? I have something I'd like to discuss." Daniel reversed from the room, inviting Melise to follow. Reyna looked astonished, was Dinoco seriously this bold?
Melise looked at Reyna her eyes soft but tone curt, "I'll be right back." She followed him out.
Reyna idled in the silence, this Hub fellow made her feel incompetent, but she was smart enough not to show it.
Daniel checked on his prospective client through his mirrors. Her hood embezzled no ornaments, but he would recognise a Honda anywhere. She was simply impeccable, her natural beauty was hidden under those designs and spray paint. Even so, the Acura found himself candidly interested in her true appearance.
He reversed into the furthest parking spot against the Inn's side, offering Melise a spot beside him. She parked in the row proceeding, her tires straightening to line up with his. There was enough space between them, and she preferred it.
"Your run was great," Daniel began, "You've got a great smile too. It's serene, so to speak." A grin followed.
"Thank you, I just pretended I was driving down the street," Melise responded, she smiled nervously. Was this suddenly a job interview?
"So you're crafty too?" Daniel lightened the air, "Just what we're looking for. I have an opportunity for you… "
Melise ignored the urge to bite her lip, watching the Acura enunciate his tires, "How does it sound to become a real Dinoco Girl?"
She blinked rapidly, "A Dinoco Girl?... " was he joking? "But that's not possible unless I audition for that show they're on."
Daniel nodded, raising a lid with a smile, "That's very true my dear, Dinoco Girls compete in a beauty contest that's televised. However, with the Internet Era taking over, we're seeking more creative methods for recruiting."
He could see her chewing it over, genuinely caught by surprise. Daniel looked her form over again, he was truly impressed by Melise, he just needed her to confirm, "I mean think about it, you've already got the look down." She blushed, smiling that same youthful elegance, Daniel was a pro.
Hub watched her eyes meet his, shyness at its brink. He smiled warmly. She reminded him of his daughter.
"What is in it for me? What are the benefits, downsides?"
An expectant question eager models rarely asked, "Benefits include VIP access to Dinoco sponsored events including the annual Shamula Boat Party. You will receive regular vacation pay with health benefits after three months of full-time shoots, and a place in the Dinoco travelling vans. Among many other opportunities, you'll also be the first Honda on our stage," Hub smiled in admiration, "I know a good candidate when I see one."
Melise was still unconvinced, "What are the cons?"
"Constant travel," Hub stated squarely, he gestured with a tire, "The girls are as busy as racers, they just get to look pretty as well.
He looked sympathetic, "Your contract states you're not an American citizen. You'll have to reside here permanently if you want this opportunity, Melise."
She felt a ping of despair hit her, the chance was already fleeting.
Daniel came closer, she didn't shy away this time, "Consider this a formal offer," he summarised, "I know you've probably got a lot on your plate right now, however I'll need to hear back from you on this opportunity as soon as next weekend," Hub gently stamped his business credentials to her lower cheek with his tread. He seemed honoured to touch her, as if feeling a piece of timeless treasure.
"Thank you, Daniel," Melise replied sweetly "I'll have to get back to you, because there is a lot going on."
Daniel seemed in awe hearing her sentences, that was the most she ever said, "Good. I'll be looking forward to your response. Also we don't accept referrals."
Melise nodded, watching the sports car zest his engine. She blinked from the sudden sound, observing Daniel pull away, "Good meeting you, Melise. Stay safe, have a good night."
Despite his sporty nature, Melise was pleased to see Daniel driving the speed limit. He was in no rush to impress anyone upon his departure.
Internally, Melise screamed. She wanted to bounce on her shocks like a giddy kid, but that was otherwise immature. She had just been blessed with a great opportunity— a changing stance in life.
Melise rolled in neutral, the feeling of guilt pulling at her heart despite the excitement. She would have to leave IGNTR, leave Reyna, leave Edison…
Her family, the café… they would forever be a whole country away.
Melise's exhale was raspy; on top of her plan with an unruly Silverado tomorrow and a potential partnership with Dinoco, Melise needed a good night's rest. Based alone on her high idle, she wouldn't sleep so soundly tonight.
The Honda returned to the Inn's dressing room, finding Reyna ending a call abruptly. Despite Melise's better intuition, the BMW already seemed foreign. The Honda fought off the urge to frown, her joyful conscience was making decisions for her. Right now, more than anything, she wanted her friends.
"So," Reyna looked concerned, "What did Mister Dinoco Rep have to say?"