Hello, guys!

Hope you enjoy this next chapter as we're setting up the future for Emison.

With love,

Emison.

Chapter 17 - Smile for the Camera

Emily woke up to the sound of quiet movement downstairs. For a moment, she was disoriented, forgetting she was at Spencer's barn instead of her own room. Then last night came rushing back—the date, Alison's smile under the candlelight, the warmth of her hand in hers. She smiled at the memory, stretching lazily before slipping out of bed.

When she walked into the small kitchen area, she found Pam Fields already awake, standing by the counter with two mugs of coffee. Her mother turned at the sound of Emily's footsteps and smiled. "Good morning, sweetheart."

Emily hesitated, noting the careful warmth in her mom's voice. "Morning," she said, accepting the mug Pam handed her.

For a moment, they just sipped their coffee in silence. Emily knew her mother well enough to recognize when she had something on her mind. Pam wasn't hovering the way she used to after the Dollhouse, but there was an awareness in the way she looked at her—concern, maybe.

Finally, Pam spoke. "You seemed really happy last night."

Emily glanced down at her coffee, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I was. It was… perfect."

Pam nodded, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "I'm glad. I know how much Alison means to you."

Emily studied her mother carefully. There was no judgment in her tone, no hesitation. Just quiet understanding.

"She does," Emily admitted softly. "But this time, it's different. It's real."

Pam exhaled, almost like she'd been holding something in. "I can see that." She reached out, covering Emily's hand with hers. "I want you to have good things, Em. And if Alison is one of them… then I'm happy for you."

Emily's throat tightened at that. They had come a long way from the days when Pam didn't quite understand her feelings for Alison, when there had been distance between them. This—her mother accepting and supporting her—meant everything.

"Thanks, Mom."

Pam gave her hand a squeeze before pulling away. "That being said," she added lightly, "you did cut it pretty close on curfew."

Emily groaned, rolling her eyes. "Seriously?"

Pam chuckled. "Hey, I let you have your night. Just don't push your luck too much, young lady."

Emily grinned, sipping her coffee again. "No promises."

As she stood there, feeling lighter than she had in a long time, she realized something—she wasn't just surviving anymore. She was living.

Emily spent the morning basking in the rare peace that followed a perfect night. After finishing her coffee with her mom, she sent Alison a quick text—Good morning, hope you got some sleep after all that excitement last night—before hopping in the shower.

By the time she got out, a reply was waiting for her.

I slept like a baby. Maybe because I had the best night ever.

Emily grinned, warmth spreading through her chest as she typed back.

Same. Let's make a habit out of it?

You read my mind.

She was still smiling when she heard a knock at the door.

"Hey, Em, you decent?" Hanna's voice called from outside.

"Yeah, come in!"

Hanna strolled in, wearing leggings and an oversized sweater, her hair up in a messy bun. She took one look at Emily's face and smirked. "Okay, judging by that ridiculous smile, last night went well."

Emily rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "It was perfect."

Hanna grinned, flopping down on the bed. "I want every single detail."

Emily sat beside her, pulling her legs up underneath her. "Ali planned this whole romantic picnic by the lake—candles, blankets, everything. She even took pictures of me."

Hanna raised an eyebrow. "Like, cute couple pictures? Or are we talking America's Next Top Model?"

Emily laughed. "A little bit of both, honestly. She said she wanted to remember the night forever."

Hanna placed a hand over her heart. "Okay, that's actually adorable. Who knew Ali had it in her?"

"Right?" Emily sighed dreamily before shaking her head. "It still feels surreal. We've been through so much, but last night, it was just us. No drama, no baggage—just good things."

Hanna smiled, nudging her playfully. "Well, you deserve good things, Em. And for the record, I'm officially shipping you two. Full endorsement, Fields."

Emily laughed, shoving her lightly. "Glad I have your approval."

Hanna dramatically flipped her hair. "As you should be."

Emily chuckled, shaking her head at her best friend's antics. "Anyway, enough about me. How are you? Are you doing okay with everything?"

Hanna's smirk faltered slightly, but she didn't look away. "Yeah. I mean, I miss Caleb sometimes, but I think I miss the idea of him more than anything. And Mona… I haven't heard from her, but I kind of expected that. It's weird, you know? Not having some dramatic romance taking up all my time. But I think I needed this—just me for a while."

Emily reached over and squeezed her hand. "That actually sounds really healthy, Han."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," Hanna teased, but there was a genuine warmth in her eyes. "Give me a month, and I'll probably be throwing myself into something questionable."

Emily laughed. "You wouldn't be Hanna Marin if you didn't."

Hanna winked. "Damn right."

As they sat there, exchanging playful banter and comfortable silence, Emily realized how grateful she was for this moment—for stability, for happiness, for the people in her life who made everything feel lighter.

And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't worried about what came next.

Emily's therapist was more than happy to find out that she had gone on a date with Alison.

"Oh, do tell me about it!" Dr. Griffin asked.

Emily blushed, "It was great. We went to the lake and she had set up a picnic there. Then, we talked about anything but our problems and she took pictures of me. I just loved seeing the way she sees me through the camera. Ali has an eye for art. She made me feel like I was gorgeous and even called me a model."

"That's beautiful," Dr. Griffin agreed. "And how did you feel about posing for the camera?"

Emily frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Was it comfortable for you? After people experience trauma like you have, it's not unusual that they shy away from anything that would get them feeling exposed."

"Oh," Emily nodded. "I've always been introverted and a bit shy before the dollhouse. Standing in front of a camera was weird at first, but I trust Ali. And I loved it. She even managed to take a picture of us kissing."

Dr. Griffin smiled, "That's great progress, Emily. Who knows, you might find out that standing in front of cameras is your hidden talent."

Emily scoffed, "Me? A model? I don't think that's possible."

"Why not?" Dr. Griffin prodded.

"I just think I don't have what it takes to become a model," Emily justified.

"Well, you won't know until you try it," Dr. Griffin argued. "Plus, you have to consider your future. I know your friends aren't going to school anymore. It makes sense considering what happened to you, but you still have to consider your options for the future."

Emily bit her lip, "I really haven't thought about it."

"You don't have to decide anything right now, but it would be good to think about possible careers. This will be important both for your future and your healing."

Emily nodded. But, as she left her session, Dr. Griffin's words echoed through her mind. She had always believed her future would be connected to swimming—either competitive or just enough to warrant her a scholarship. Wilden ripped that dream away from her. She had barely gauged other options when he put her and her friends in the dollhouse.

Now, trying to swim past all that trauma, Emily wasn't sure what paths were still open for her. But she wanted to figure it out.

Alison couldn't help the dreamy smile tugging at her lips as she sat in photography class, absently flipping through the photos on her camera. Her first date with Emily had been perfect—so much so that she found herself reliving it every time she looked at the pictures.

She hadn't even realized how obvious she was being until Aria nudged her with an amused smirk.

"Alright, spill. You look way too happy for an early morning class. Did you win the lottery, or is this about Emily?"

Alison blinked, momentarily thrown off. She wasn't used to people catching her in soft moments. "You're getting nosy."

Aria gasped dramatically. "You wound me. I'm just making an observation." She leaned in, trying to peek at Alison's camera. "So… it is Emily, isn't it?"

Alison sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. There was no dodging Aria when she got like this. "Fine. We went on a date."

Aria's face lit up. "Oh my God! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Alison hesitated, her fingers idly scrolling through photos of Emily—the soft glow of the candlelight catching in her hair, the way she smiled shyly at the camera. "I just… I wanted to keep it to myself for a little while. It still feels… fragile."

Aria's excitement softened into something more understanding. "That makes sense," she said gently. "But, Ali, you don't have to be afraid to enjoy this. You guys deserve to be happy."

Alison let out a breath, relaxing slightly. "I know. I just… I've never done this before. Not really."

Aria smirked. "Alison DiLaurentis, the queen of flirting, admitting she's a relationship newbie? Historic."

Alison rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help laughing. "Flirting and relationships are two different things."

Aria nodded toward the camera. "So… am I gonna get to see any of these pictures, or is that classified information?"

Alison hesitated for half a second before turning the camera so Aria could see. A soft gasp escaped Aria as she took in the image—Emily, illuminated by candlelight, her expression warm and full of something Aria could only describe as love.

"Wow," Aria whispered. "You really have an eye for this."

Alison flushed, turning the camera back toward herself. "It's not me. It's her. She just… looks like that."

Before Aria could respond, a voice interrupted them. "Who's that?"

Clark had leaned over from the next row, having caught a glimpse of the image. He squinted at the screen before grinning. "She's gorgeous. Wait—why does she look familiar?"

"She's my…" Alison trailed off, unsure what word to use. "Emily."

Clark raised an eyebrow at that phrasing but didn't push. Instead, his eyes lit up with an idea. "You know, our class is looking for models for an upcoming shoot. If she's comfortable in front of the camera, she'd be perfect."

Alison blinked. "Emily? A model?"

Their professor, who had wandered by just in time to hear the conversation, glanced at the camera. "This is your work, Alison?"

Alison nodded slowly.

"Impressive composition. And your friend—she has a presence. If she's interested, I'd love to see her in a studio setting."

Alison stared at them, unsure how to respond. Emily had seemed comfortable when she took the pictures, but modeling? That was something else entirely.

"I'll… check with her," she said finally, trying to ignore the strange mix of pride and protectiveness bubbling in her chest.

As class continued, Alison found herself glancing at her camera again. The idea of Emily being in the spotlight made her hesitate—but if this was something Emily wanted, could she really stand in the way?

Alison didn't sleep well. She kept rolling around in bed, trying to come up with the right way to tell Emily about her teacher's invitation. But no matter how she framed it, nothing felt quite right. It sounded like such a small thing, but to Alison, it wasn't.

On one hand, she saw it as an opportunity—Emily had always been more reserved, and after everything Wilden put her through, her confidence had taken a hit. Alison wanted Emily to see herself the way she did: strong, beautiful, capable. If modeling for the class gave her even a sliver of that confidence back, wouldn't it be worth it?

But there was another side to it—one that made Alison uneasy. Emily was still healing, still trying to piece herself back together. Would stepping in front of a camera for a room full of strangers make her feel exposed? Would it trigger something she wasn't ready to face? And then, there was a more selfish part of Alison, one she hated acknowledging. The idea of other people looking at Emily the way she did, admiring her, made something in her chest twist. It was petty, and she knew it, but that didn't stop her from feeling it.

By the time she arrived at Emily's house to help her repaint her bedroom, her mind was still tangled in knots. She barely spoke as they prepped the walls, only offering absentminded hums in response to Emily's small talk.

It wasn't until Emily flicked a brushful of blue paint at her that she snapped back to reality.

"Okay," Emily huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "What's going on? We went on an amazing date, and now you're acting weird and quiet. It's freaking me out, Ali."

Alison blinked, realizing how her silence must have come across. "I'm sorry, Em. I didn't mean to scare you. There's just a lot in my head right now, but I swear we're fine."

Emily's expression softened, but her posture remained tense. "You can talk to me, you know. You don't have to deal with whatever it is on your own."

Alison exhaled slowly, setting her paintbrush down. "There's something I've been trying to figure out how to tell you, but I kept overthinking it."

Emily frowned. "Okay, that could mean a million things. Are you about to ask me to be your girlfriend or break up with me? Because right now, it sounds like it could go either way."

Alison let out a small laugh, grateful for Emily's ability to lighten the moment. "It's nothing like that. I promise." She hesitated for a beat before finally saying, "It's about the pictures I took of you on our date. My photography teacher saw them… and he liked them. A lot."

Emily tilted her head. "Okay…?"

Alison swallowed, feeling her nerves creep up again. "He thinks you'd be a great model and wants you to pose for our class for an upcoming exercise."

Emily blinked. "Oh."

Alison braced herself, watching for any sign of discomfort. "I know it's a lot to ask. And if you don't want to do it, you don't have to. I just—I wanted to tell you because it's your choice, and I don't want to keep things from you."

Emily chewed on her bottom lip, her fingers idly trailing through the dried paint on her wrist. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've never thought about doing something like that before."

Alison nodded, keeping her voice soft. "That's okay. You don't have to decide right now."

Emily let out a quiet breath. "I talked to my therapist the other day, and she said I should try new things… things that might help me rebuild my confidence." She looked up at Alison, something thoughtful flickering in her eyes. "And I really liked modeling for you."

Alison's heart swelled at the confession. "You did?"

Emily gave a small smile. "Yeah. It was different, but… I liked how you saw me." She exhaled, as if settling something within herself. "I think I want to try."

Alison couldn't help but grin, relief washing over her. "And I'll be right there with you, Em. You won't be alone."

Emily nodded, and for the first time in a long time, Alison saw something in her—something beyond the trauma, beyond the fear. A spark. A willingness to step into something new. And Alison knew, no matter what, she'd be there to catch her if she ever felt like falling.

The day of the photoshoot went by like a blur. Alison introduced Emily to her teacher and classmates. They all seemed friendly, and the teacher reassured Emily that she was in complete control—this was just a simple class exercise.

It was supposed to be comforting.

It wasn't.

Emily found herself staring at the bathroom mirror, hands clenched against the sink. Her breathing was too fast, her stomach churned, and her vision blurred. The lights outside were too bright, the room too small.

Too many eyes on her.

It wasn't just a photoshoot anymore. It was the Dollhouse. The cameras, the surveillance, the lack of privacy. Wilden's watchful eye.

She wasn't here. She was back there.

Her body tensed, heart hammering as the urge to run took over her entire being.

The door creaked open.

"Hey Em, the photoshoot is about to start—" Alison had just come to check on her, but didn't expect to find her in the middle of a panic attack.

"Hey, Em, the photoshoot is about to start—"

Alison's voice.

Emily turned sharply, her breath still caught in her throat. Alison's brows furrowed in concern.

"Oh, sweetie, come here."

Emily didn't hesitate this time. She rushed into Alison's arms. The familiar warmth, the scent of her perfume—it was grounding.

Then, she broke. The fear spilled over, and she sobbed against Alison's shoulder.

"I—I don't know if I can do this," Emily choked out.

"Em, it's okay," Alison whispered, rubbing slow, tight circles on her back. "No one is forcing you."

Emily clung to her. "You—you won't be disappointed?"

Alison pulled back, cupping Emily's face gently. "Of course not! This has to be your choice." Her voice softened. "Emily, I never want you to feel forced into anything. Not in life, not in our relationship. You always have a choice."

Emily let those words settle. A choice. Something she never had in the Dollhouse.

"I believed I wanted this…" she admitted shakily. "But when I stepped in, I—it was like I was back there. And suddenly, it felt impossible."

"I know," Alison whispered. "But you're not back there. You're here. With me. You're safe."

Emily sighed, "Do you promise?"

Alison backed away to hold her hands and look her in the eye, "I promise."

Emily smiled softly, "Then I'll do it. I can't keep running away when things get hard and I get scared."

"It's your choice," Alison repeated once again. "And I'll be there to support you in whatever you choose."

Emily took a deep, shaky breath. She wasn't alone.

A knock at the door made them both look up.

"Hey, guys?" Aria peeked in, taking one look at Emily's teary face and immediately understanding. She softened. "Emily, we're all waiting for you, but don't push yourself. We've been through too much… Healing takes time."

Aria gave her an encouraging smile. "Take your time. I'll just say you're finishing up your makeup." With that, she slipped out.

Emily turned back to Alison, who was still watching her carefully.

She was scared. But she was tired of running.

"I think… I want to do this," Emily finally said, her voice still fragile, but steadier.

Alison smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Then I'll be right there with you."

And this time, Emily believed her.

The studio lights were warm, buzzing softly above Emily's head like a low hum of anticipation. The backdrop was a simple cream canvas, the kind that brought out the tones of her skin and the shine in her hair. Cameras clicked softly as students adjusted their settings, lenses turning, light meters flashing. Despite the gentle atmosphere, Emily stood stiff near the setup, her arms wrapped protectively around her waist.

Alison stood just a few feet away, camera in hand, eyes trained on Emily—not just as a photographer, but as someone who knew exactly how brave she was for even standing there.

"You doing okay?" Aria asked, coming up behind Emily with a gentle smile. "You look amazing, by the way. The makeup suits you."

"I don't know if I can do this," Emily whispered.

Aria leaned in. "Then you don't have to. But if you do, just know everyone here wants to help you feel safe. Especially Ali."

Emily's eyes flicked toward the blonde, who had stopped adjusting her camera and was just watching her now, lips pressed together in silent encouragement. Something in that gaze reminded her: she wasn't alone.

"Alright, Emily," the teacher said kindly, approaching with a clipboard. "No pressure. You're in full control here. You can stop at any time, and we'll only take pictures if you feel comfortable. All good?"

Emily nodded slowly. Her throat was dry, but she managed, "Let's try."

The first few clicks were awkward. Her shoulders were stiff, and she kept glancing at the floor. Aria, now behind one of the cameras, gave her a thumbs up. Clark, respectful and a little starstruck, offered, "That angle's really working. You've got a classic profile."

Emily exhaled deeply and adjusted her stance. Something shifted when she looked straight at Alison's lens. There was trust there. Safety.

"Breathe, Em," Alison said gently. "Don't worry about anyone else. Just think of me."

Emily let her arms fall to her sides. Her posture relaxed. She turned, letting her hair sweep over one shoulder. A few more shutter clicks.

Then, Alison said, "Can I get a close-up?"

Emily smiled.

Suddenly, the energy in the room shifted. She began to move naturally, slow changes in pose—soft smile, head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing with a flicker of playful challenge. She lifted her chin, proud. For once, the gaze on her wasn't threatening. It was admiring. Controlled. Hers.

The clicks came faster now.

Alison felt something tighten in her chest. Emily was glowing. Stunning. Powerful. And for a moment, a spark of jealousy flared in her gut—not at Emily, but at the thought of anyone else seeing her like this, capturing her beauty. But she pushed it down with pride. This wasn't about her. It was about Emily reclaiming space.

When the shoot wrapped, the teacher approached with a soft smile. "Emily, these shots are excellent. You look strong and luminous. Would you be comfortable with us sharing a few on the class Instagram? Only with your permission."

Emily looked to Alison.

"It's your call," Alison said quietly. "If you say no, that's the end of it."

Emily paused. She thought about the mirror, the panic, the weight of Wilden's control. Then she thought of Alison's promise, of Aria's support, and the way she felt during that last stretch of the shoot—like she was more than what had been done to her.

She smiled. "Yeah. You can post them."

"Thank you," the teacher said. "We'll be careful with tags and captions. You did amazing today."

As the group began packing up their gear, Alison came to stand beside her, a quiet smile blooming across her face.

"You were incredible," she whispered.

Emily leaned into her, forehead nearly touching Alison's. "So were you. I couldn't have done this without you."

Alison gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, ignoring the curious glances of classmates. "This is just the beginning."

And Emily believed her.

By the time they got back to Alison's, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving Emily drained. She dropped onto the couch, knees drawn up, her body still holding onto tension.

Alison wasn't far behind, setting her camera bag aside before disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later, she returned with a mug of tea, placing it in Emily's hands.

"Chamomile," Alison murmured, sitting beside her. "It'll help settle your nerves."

Emily took the cup, fingers curling around the warmth. "Thanks."

For a moment, they just sat there, quiet. Emily exhaled shakily, still feeling a little raw.

"I'm proud of you," Alison said eventually.

Emily let out a small laugh, though there wasn't much humor in it. "I don't feel like I did something worth being proud of."

Alison frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I had a full-blown breakdown before even stepping in front of the camera." Emily's voice was low, ashamed. "I panicked over a stupid photoshoot. I almost ran."

Alison shook her head. "You didn't run."

Emily bit her lip.

"Em, you had a panic attack. That doesn't make you weak. What makes you strong is that you did it anyway," Alison said. "You stepped out there, and you didn't let the fear win."

Emily's grip on the mug tightened slightly. "I didn't think I could do it," she admitted.

"But you did," Alison whispered.

Emily sighed, letting that sink in. The fear had been real, but so was this moment—this warmth, this safety.

Alison reached for her hand, gently running her fingers over Emily's knuckles, grounding her. "You don't have to act like today was easy. It wasn't. But you still deserve to feel proud of yourself."

Emily let out a slow breath, nodding.

"I just… I don't want to be the kind of person who runs away when things get hard," she murmured.

"You're not," Alison said firmly. "You showed up. And you let me be there for you. That means something."

Emily leaned against Alison's shoulder, letting herself relax for the first time since the shoot ended.

A few seconds later, Alison's phone buzzed against the coffee table. Neither of them moved to check it, but the sound lingered.

Emily huffed a quiet laugh. "Probably Aria. She was acting like my personal hype woman all day."

"Yeah," Alison smirked. "Clark too. He wouldn't stop talking about how good you were."

Emily rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile playing on her lips now.

Alison shifted, pressing a soft kiss to Emily's hair. "You were good."

For the second time that night, Emily believed her.

The night before, Emily had fallen asleep wrapped up in Alison's warmth, her head resting against Ali's shoulder while Alison's fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along her arm. The adrenaline from the photoshoot had worn off, leaving behind a hazy exhaustion that felt softer, safer, with Alison beside her. They had curled up on Alison's bed, talking in sleepy murmurs until the conversation faded into silence.

Now, in the early morning light, Emily stirred but didn't move right away. Alison was still asleep, her breath warm against Emily's shoulder, her arm still loosely draped over Emily's waist. It felt good. Safe.

For once, Emily wasn't in a rush to get up.

That was until her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Emily stretched an arm out to grab it, unlocking the screen with a lazy swipe. The brightness made her squint, and she had to blink a few times before the words on her screen registered.

Spencer: Proud of you, Em.
 Hanna: Our girl is a star.
 Aria: CHECK YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW.

Emily frowned, still groggy, as she unlocked her Instagram.

And then her breath caught in her throat.

Her face was everywhere.

The class's photography page had posted the pictures late last night, and somehow, overnight, they had exploded. Thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments.

"Okay, but how did we not know Emily Fields had supermodel potential?"
 "Wait… is she an influencer now?"
 "She survived Rosewood AND made it fashion? Queen behavior."
 "Brb, gonna go rewatch all of Emily's swim meets and pretend I knew her before she was famous."

Emily's stomach twisted. Her heart pounded in her ears as she scrolled through the photos. It wasn't just classmates commenting—random accounts, town locals, even people she didn't recognize had reposted the images.

Alison stirred beside her, mumbling sleepily. "Morning…"

Emily barely heard her.

Alison blinked a few times, still groggy, before noticing the way Emily was gripping her phone. "What's wrong?"

Wordlessly, Emily turned the screen toward her.

Alison squinted, her sleep-addled brain taking a second to catch up. And then—

"Holy sh—"

Emily groaned, flopping back onto the bed, pressing the phone against her forehead. "How did this even happen?"

Alison sat up, scrolling through the comments. A flicker of guilt passed through her expression. She had wanted Emily to feel confident, to see herself the way Alison saw her—but she hadn't anticipated the photos blowing up like this.

She glanced at Emily, who was now staring at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed her.

"Em," Alison said gently. "This isn't a bad thing."

Emily let out a dramatic sigh. "I mean… it's not great."

Alison smirked, nudging her. "Look at these comments. People love you."

Emily peeked at her phone again, her pulse still racing. The attention was overwhelming—but at the same time, a small part of her… didn't hate it.

"Welcome to being a Rosewood legend," Alison teased.

Emily groaned, dragging a pillow over her face. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Emily a supermodel?

I may have drawn too much inspiration from Shay Mitchell. But I did leave some clues in the chapter before, lol. I think this is something that will make Emily grow a lot and work through her inner traumas.

Tell me what you think of it in the reviews.