Archive of Our Own

Xisuma didn’t like Paris. It was crowded, and dirty, and people were always sneering at him. He liked his job in Paris even less. He missed London — it might be just as crowded and dirty, but it was home. And it had places he felt welcome in, like this little coffee shop a few minutes from their studio. They played metal over the speakers, and the owner — a lovely person named Cleo — knew X pretty well. They’d threatened to beat up a man the last — and only — time someone had tried harassing him there. This weird American guy had even poked his head out of the ceiling to rattle off the man’s name and home address for extra intimidation. X had the thought, as the nasty man scurried home, to introduce the American to Ex. Anyone who wore neon green statement glasses would likely get along with them, if they could ignore random jabs at their choice of attire — but the man, Joe, seemed to only appear when he was needed. 

The moment a problem was resolved, he’d vanish again. He also seemed to choose the weirdest spots to sit in — So far X had spotted him in the ceiling (twice), beneath the cashier’s desk (once), in the vents (twice again), and sitting in an empty plant pot (thrice). Every time, he’d disappeared at random — usually before X could talk to him, so he’d never had a chance to try and get him to meet with Ex. And Ex themself had thrown off every attempt to bring him to the coffee shop with a scoff, and a reminder that they were ‘above entering such a puny establishment.’ …so, really it might’ve been best that X couldn’t make Ex and Joe meet. He wasn’t sure Joe would be above getting into an insult contest with them if they said something rude, and he kind of doubted Ex would take any sort of insult lying down.

Anyways — back to talking about Paris. It sucked, and X hated it. At least London, while it also sucked, had the comforts of home. X didn’t even have the comfort of knowing what was going on here — most of the intercommed messages he’d heard since landing here were all in French. That was to be expected, because they were in France, but it was still slightly offputting. And it also prompted Ex, almost every time, to say something about how the intercom could be saying ‘there is a bomb in the building,’ and they wouldn’t know. He really didn’t like that comment, especially after the whole ‘Drama Week 2022’ fiasco. That didn’t stop them from saying it, though. 

…the room he was in right now, despite being painted a different color, looked frighteningly like the one he’d been sitting in just before he was told about the bomb. The small table with refreshments (provided by Ex), the chair, and the potted plants were all different too. It was just the room’s dimensions that were similar — it was like rooms of this size were industry standard for keeping models before they had to go backstage. He stared off at the table, waiting for something to happen. Too much of his job, when he had photoshoots or events to attend, was spent waiting. It was one of many things they didn’t tell you about modeling — despite the occasional high-energy photoshoot, it could be really boring. He tapped his hands against the merino slacks Ex had made for him. 

The pants were made of a wrinkle-resistant fabric, because the designer had realised when first working with Xisuma that he needed something he could touch and move without fear of messing up the look. So even though X had on a ton of makeup, a shirt he had to promise not to stain or otherwise mess up, and a pair of high-end shoes, he could at least fidget with the slacks. Ex was also working on a line of jewelry made to be fiddled, just so that Xisuma could wear them for a similar purpose, but they were still working out the kinks of the design. So, like all of their other work-in-progresses, X had sworn to never mention them until Ex presented the final product. That hadn’t happened yet, but considering the bulk-order of beads and wires they’d brought up to the studio, he expected the presentation soon. As he continued to think, someone suddenly grabbed his arm.

“Alright, up—”

X was hoisted to his feet, looking around to find Ex at his side.

“Hmm — what?”

“...did you not hear anything I said?” Ex asked, and X stayed silent. Ex sighed, rubbing the bridge of their nose and shaking their head, the charms on their red and black glasses clinking against the metal. “Rehearsal’s in twelve — you had three hours to prepare, and I fought off the stylists for you, but we’ve got to go now.”

“Oh — Ok.” X nodded, following after them.

They made their way through the twisting corridors, eventually popping out in a large room full of well-dressed people. X found his spot in the line-up, glancing around. He recognised a couple of the other models — A young woman named Pearl, and a man he’d only ever heard referred to as ‘Big B.’ He’d even asked the man for his name once, as they waited for someone else to finish up their section of the photoshoot, and the man had only grinned and responded “Big B” before scampering off to take his place on the set. If it wasn’t for his giant grin — and the mischievous glint in his eye — X would’ve believed him wholeheartedly. Considering that, though, X wasn’t quite sure that there wasn't a joke he wasn’t in on. Either way, though, there was no point in trying to learn any other name of his. If he wanted Xisuma to know him as something else, he’d tell him. 

Before X could try and find some reason to dart out of the line-up and greet his friends, a figure caught his eye. They were pacing back and forth and mumbling to themself, tapping a pen against a clipboard.

“Excuse me?” He called out, and they glanced up. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Some asshole named Xisuma…” They mumbled.

“That’s me!”

“Oh—” They cut off, looking slightly paler than they had before.

X’s eyes caught on the bright orange ‘INTERN’ stamped across their badge. Oh, he remembered being an intern! Truly an awful time… So much pressure, and no matter how well you do, everyone's mean to you.

“I like your hat!” He said, gesturing to the black and purple peacock-feathered hat on their head.

Their face lit up.

“Thank you!” They hesitated for a moment. “I made it.”

“Oh — you did?!” They immediately searched the room, before calling out: “Ex!” The intern stiffened, eyes widening as X waved the designer over. “Look at the hat they made!”

He pointed at it, and Ex’s eyes sharpened. The look was quickly replaced by a bright smile — Ex’s ‘deal-winning grin,’ as they called it.

“Is that your original design?” He asked.

“Uh — yes, it is?”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! And as an intern — what is it you’re here for?”

“I’m — just a regular intern. I run odd jobs, but I mostly just manage the models…”

“Oh, that simply won’t do… Come with me, we’ll talk.” 

Ex hooked the intern’s arm in his, stepping away from the group. X beamed. He loved when he helped discover new talent. It always made him feel good. Modeling was fun, of course, but this made him feel like he made an impact. He had no doubt he’d see the intern again soon for a collaboration. He almost got so lost in thought that he didn’t notice one of the event organisers call for places. He stumbled back to reality as the line started to move forwards. After a few minutes, it was his turn to step out onto the runway. He lifted his head and stepped out, keeping his pace brisk but effortless. He made it to the end of the runway, struck two poses as the cameras flashed and event organisers whispered, and turned to strut back offstage. Really, this was so much work for the thirty seconds he was out there. When he got backstage, Ex was already waiting.

“Good eye, Xisuma.” They nodded.

X grinned.

“So it’ll work out then?”

“Of course it will — and snatched right out from under Jeff Hannagan’s nose! Oh, I wish I could see his face when we come out with the designs…”

X smiled, and Ex threw an arm around his shoulders. 

“Alright — let’s get that outfit off you before it gets messed up.” 

They went back to store the outfit, X switching into some more casual — but still Ex-approved — clothing, and went to dinner. The night passed easily, with them returning to the hotel to rest, and having a late brunch the next morning. It was when they arrived backstage that things turned out a little strange. Ex’s phone started ringing, and they stepped out to take the call. When they returned, it was with a disappointed expression.

“The American contractors messed everything up again. This is why we don’t operate in America…” They groaned. "They're flying me out to the Berlin office to try and fix this mess. I think they’re hoping the Berlin team and help smooth things out. I... I'll probably be gone a couple days.”

X frowned.

"Oh... ok." 

Ex gave him a sympathetic smile.

“If it helps, I already found a flight, so I can excuse myself if things go too long. I’ll be back a few hours after the interviews end, at the latest. I’ll fly the damn plane back myself if I have to."

“Alright. Good luck!”

“Yeah — good luck, X. Call me if you need me.”

He nodded, and they patted X’s shoulder before vanishing into the hallway.

X stared at where they’d been for a second, before shrugging and heading for the makeup studio. He did usually have Ex chauffeuring him around, and it was easier that way, but he was more than capable of doing this on his own. After all, he’d been left to his own devices fairly often when he first started modeling. This time he even had all the information — where to be and when to be there. He was rushed into the dressing room when he finally got there, a couple makeup artists directing him where to sit and which way to turn. This was his least favorite part of the process — worse than the waiting. This was waiting, but evil. He couldn’t move his face, which meant he couldn’t move much of anything else. He stared at the mirror, and just sat there. What felt like an hour later, he was done. He went and got the clothes he was meant to be showing off, careful not to get any makeup on the fabric. With that done, he went back to his little room and sat down. After a minute he pulled out his phone, playing a game to pass the time. A few minutes later, the door opened. He looked up, grinning and half-expecting to see Ex. Instead, he found Jeff Hannagan — Ex’s rival, and one of the biggest names in fashion. And, also, the person who’d coordinated this whole event. He blinked.

“Oh — If you’re looking for Ex, they’re out right now.” He offered.

Jeff loomed in the doorway.

“No, I was actually looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Come with me.”

X hesitantly stood and followed, silently watching as they traveled down twisting hallways. At some point, he stopped recognising where in the building he was. They walked down hall after hall, eventually entering an empty room. X hesitantly stepped inside.

“I’ve heard things about you.” Jeff said, his tone sharp. “That you’re flaky, and unreliable. That you can’t do anything without your boss, who you follow around like a lost puppy.” X went to say something, but was cut off. “Don’t bother — I’ve heard enough already. Anything you can say won’t change my opinion, it’s already set. I know you can’t be left on your own. And I already heard that the designer you follow around had to leave.” He paused, shifting his watch’s position on his wrist. “There’s going to be changes to the schedule — some important people are running behind, so we’re waiting for them. We could call for places in ten minutes, or it could be several hours, and I won’t have my perfect record smudged by the likes of you — dumb, useless models. So you’re going to stay here until I send someone to get you. You won’t wander, you won’t bother anyone. You’ll stay. Here. Understand?”

“I—”

“Do you understand?”

Jeff stood looming in the doorway. Even if X managed to slip past him, he wouldn’t get far. And an incident like that would do irreparable damage to X’s reputation. It was probably best for him just to do what he was told — he didn’t need any trouble. He swallowed, staring down at the floor.

“...yes. I understand.”

“Good. Now, stay put and behave.” Jeff strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

X flinched, and looked around. There was no furniture here — nowhere to sit. The floor was dirty concrete — he’d mess up his clothes if he sat down in here. He stood, fiddling with the fabric of his slacks. As time dragged on, his feet started to ache, and he swayed listlessly from side to side. How long had it been — it must’ve been hours. He’d been told not to leave, but he was so thirsty. He hesitated for a little while longer, before pulling the door open, and darting out. He’d just find water, and then he’d go back. It took him a minute to find a room that looked even vaguely like someone had been there in the past couple days. He poked his head into the next room over, looking for water, only to hear a disgusted scoff. 

“Seriously?! You’re worse than I thought.” Jeff stormed into the room and grabbed his wrist, starting to pull him forward.

X wrenched his hand away.

“I — I was just—”

He was cut off when Jeff slapped him in the face, his cheek erupting in pain as he was grabbed again. This time, the grip was tight enough to hurt. 

“Don’t bother! Ugh, you models… think that just because most people think you’re pretty, you can do whatever you want!” Jeff dragged him to another door, shoving him through. “Stay here! And that mark better be gone by showtime. The world is watching, Xisuma — try not to make a fool of yourself.”

The door shut, and X heard it latch. No, no, no no no— He raced to it, yanking the handle. It just rattled, and didn’t budge. He was stuck here. The door was metal, solid — he couldn’t break it down. He was stuck here until somebody let him out. He looked around, finding a metal chair in one corner. He plopped down on it. His feet hurt, and he was still thirsty. He grabbed for his phone. There was nothing in his pockets. He panicked, patting down the rest of his pockets. Nothing. He curled his legs up to his chin for a moment, closing his eyes. Then he moved to sit normally — he couldn’t wrinkle this shirt. Everyone would be so mad at him. He pressed a hand against his stinging cheek. He hoped it wouldn’t be visible when he went out there. His reputation was apparently terrible already — he didn’t need to make it worse. 

He stayed there for a very long time. After the first ‘hour,’ he got up and paced the room until his feet hurt so bad, he was worried he might fall. After a few more hours, he began to wonder if anyone was coming to get him. …what if nobody was coming for him? He couldn’t get out on his own — he’d tried. And he’d been listening, but he hadn’t heard anyone pass by. It took so long for anything to change that X had slipped into a daydream to ignore the boredom and gnawing hunger. The door squeaked open, and he snapped awake, looking over at Jeff.

“Places, Xisuma.”

X got up, slowly following. Don’t make a scene, he told himself. He just had to deal with it. He didn’t need to make an enemy out of someone this powerful. He stepped out and looked around. Jeff stopped.

“...which way?” X asked.

“Ugh — useless.” 

The man shook his head, leading him down the halls. When he got backstage, a small group came over to dust his clothing, though he somehow had managed not to wrinkle anything. He took his place in the lineup, pulling in a deep breath. He was rattled, sure, but he wouldn’t let it affect anything. He could do this in his sleep — it was 30 seconds. He could do this for thirty seconds. And then he could survive the next couple days, which would hopefully go better. And with that done, he and Ex could go home, and hopefully never come back.

The line started to move, and soon it was X’s turn to step out onto the catwalk. He plastered on a self-confident expression, straightened his posture, and walked. Getting out to the edge of the catwalk was the easy part. The cameras started to flash more and more, and X felt his expression nearly dip — like when you know a song so well, you flinch just before the dissonant chord plays. He forced his face to even out, struck one pose, then the next, and turned. It took everything he had not to run backstage. He made it back behind the curtains and forced himself to take in a few deep breaths. Two more days. Two more days, and then Ex would be back. Whatever happened, it’d be over in just a couple days. And — maybe the whole thing with Jeff had just been for this show. Maybe he wouldn’t even be at the photoshoots. Maybe everything would be fine. A hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

“I asked if you had a car.” Jeff said from behind him.

X startled.

“I, uh, I don’t know?” This was usually when X would either find a ride, or message Ex for a plan. But since he hadn't had time to search for his phone, meaning he couldn’t call a service to come pick him up, he didn’t know what to do.

“Ugh — this way.”

“Wait, my phone—”

“This way.”

X was dragged along for a minute. He was only let go when he’d been surrounded by several burly men. …was he being kidnapped? What the Hell was happening?! He blinked, and suddenly he was being pushed into the middle seat of a car. He glanced around as the doors locked. They pulled out of the parking lot, X watching with mounting anxiety as the buildings passed. Eventually, they stopped in front of the hotel. He let out a small sigh of relief as he was let out of the car. He quickly said goodbye to Jeff, more out of relief that he wasn’t being kidnapped than anything else, and headed up to his room. Debating for a minute, he grabbed the room phone and ordered room service. While he waited he grabbed a shower, and eventually food was brought up. Pretty much the moment he was done eating he went to bed, though it was still somewhat early. Two more days, and then things could be normal again… He awoke to someone banging on the door.

“Xisuma!” He scrambled up, rubbing his eyes and moving to unlock the door.

“...hello?”

Jeff was standing on the other side in a red suit, half the blazer trailing down to the floor where it was covered in feathers. 

“You’re late.”

X startled at the realisation that he hadn’t had his phone, and thus didn’t have an alarm.

“I — I’m sorry, I—”

“You have five minutes, then I’ll drag you there myself if I have to. Again.”

X slowly shut the door, before rushing to scramble into day clothes and brush his teeth. He left his hair alone — the poor people who were supposed to make him presentable could deal with that. After a few minutes he scrambled to the door. Jeff grabbed him by the shoulder, fingers digging painfully into his muscles. He was quickly pushed into the same sleek black car, the buildings flying past as Jeff drove at a dangerous speed. They slammed to a stop in the parking lot, the two high-tailing it into the building. Xisuma started backstage, only to be grabbed and yanked in a different direction. 

“Where—”

“I have better people.” 

He was pulled through a series of rooms and spit out into a well-furnished dressing room.

“Someone deal with him — and make sure he gets to the set. He’s part of the shadow shoot, and the ocean one.” Jeff turned and left, his footsteps permeating through the closed door.

People bustled around, and X was guided to a chair. Somebody started with his hair, forcefully brushing out the tangles. He winced as some strands were tugged out of his scalp. The makeup artists surrounded him, giving him commands like “Chin up.” and "Close your eyes.” He did as he was bid, more than used to this after so many years as a model. Maybe he expected to be treated just a little better, but it didn’t matter. He was here now — he’d deal with it, and he wouldn’t cause a fuss. Eventually he was ushered up and brought along backstage. He grinned when he saw Pearl and BigB off in the corner.

“Xisuma!” Pearl noticed him first, and he rushed over to great them as BigB called:

“Hey man!”

“Hi Pearl, hi BigB!” X said, a grin taking over his face.

“Were you here yesterday, Xisuma?” Pearl asked. 

“Oh — yeah, yesterday was… interesting. Ex had to leave, apparently he’s having some problems with our American partners.”

“Yeah, America’ll do that to you.” BibB agreed.

“...aren’t you American?”

“I thought I was British!” BigB protested.

X, now in on the joke, laughed.

“Right, yes — I forgot, I’ve known you since I was three!”

“We lived in the same apartment building!”

Pearl looked between the two.

“You guys are weird.”

“Comes with the territory.” BigB smiled.

“Anyways — having a good week, X?” Pearl asked.

He froze.

“Uh — I guess?”

“That doesn’t sound very good.” BigB said.

“It’s… like I said, it’s been interesting.” He shrugged. “What about you two?”

“Well I’ve been following Pearlo around.” BigB said.

“I invited you to hang out with me — stop making it sound like you’re a weird little guy I can’t get away from!”

“Well, most of that sounds true to me!” BigB said, shifting so he stood at his full height — which was a decent amount taller than Pearl.

Pearl shook her head fondly.

“All of my friends are so weird… You should just be glad Bdubs isn’t here — if you made a single short joke at him, I think he’d declare you his enemy for life.”

“An enemy?! Hey, I’m very friendly!”

“Trust me, we know. Bdubs just likes to fight people.” X cut in.

“...why do you two know everyone?” BigB pouted.

“Xisuma has this way of befriending pretty much everyone, and I… well certain models introduce themselves to me, and they eventually introduce me to everyone else.” Pearl said. “Come on — we can network later. You’re going to be in Berlin soon, right?”

“Art week? Yeah, I’m showing something. You’ll be there too?”

“Yep! They love sending me away from Australia — I try to say we have our own fashion industry, but they still send me everywhere else. …what about you, X?”

He blinked.

“Hm?”

“You going to Berlin?"

“Oh — no, I don’t think so. I mean Ex coordinates my schedule, so I’m not totally sure, but I think I’d remember that.”

“Ah, darn. Thought maybe we’d get the whole squad together.” Pearl shook her head. “Well, eventually they have to send us all to one event.”’

“Yeah — considering how many places we go in a year, it has to turn out sometime.” BigB agreed. On the set, someone called for him. “Oh — gotta go! I’ll see you two later.”

He darted off, leaving Pearl and Xisuma to wait.

“You’re in the shadow shoot, right X?”

“Yeah!”

“Great — me too! Maybe they’ll let us do a quick duo shoot.”

X frowned. He really didn’t need to attract Jeff’s ire. It would be fun, but… if he somehow messed everything up, he figured he’d be stuck with the man until Ex got back. And considering how shoots usually went, he doubted he’d have time to ask.

“That — that would be fun.” He said, clearly not convincingly enough.

“...something wrong, X? You seem a little off.”

“No, no — everything’s fine!” He squealed.

“You sure? You sound a little… tense.”

Yeah, that was a nice way to put it…

“I just… it’s been a long week. And — I miss Ex. We usually don’t split up — and if we do, we’re still in the same country. He’s in Germany, though, and I…” He trailed off. “Whatever, it’s not important.”

“I’m not so sure about that…”

X stared down at the ground for a moment, before going to check his phone for the time and realising he didn’t have it.

“How much longer?” He mumbled.

Pearl checked her watch.

“Not too long — another twenty minutes, or so. I think once they’re done getting more pictures of BigB, it’ll be the last of this shoot.” X groaned, leaning back against the wall. “Hey — wanna hear about how Gem and I almost destroyed a set last month?”

“You what?”

Pearl giggled. She started telling him about how she and Gem had gotten distracted on set, and had been messing with some of the pieces. After a minute, they realised the 100+ pound wooden props were only suspended from the ceiling with two pieces of rope, and two screws each. Apparently, the company running the shoot had overworked so many contractors that all the good ones refused to work for them. The only ones they’d been able to find were skirting regulations at every opportunity. By the time she finished this story, the two were called on set — unfortunately in different shooting locations. Xisuma spent the next two hours doing pose after pose — the first half following the instructions of the photographer, and the second half doing whatever poses both felt natural and showed off the style. Someone came by to give him lunch after the shoot was done, and he found a quiet corner to sit and eat before returning to the set. Unfortunately for him, Jeff was there as well, and quickly noticed him.

“Xisuma.”

“I — I’m here!”

Jeff grabbed his shoulder.

“Stop running off.”

“I — I’m sorry, I was just—”

The older man sighed.

“Save it.”

They stood there in tense silence for a while. Eventually, a woman in a white fur shawl caught their eye and rushed over.

“Maria — it’s been too long!” Jeff said.

“It really has — I don’t get out of Paris much these days.” Maria said casually. “My creative genius apparently can’t be spared for a single moment!”

“Well of course — keep your assets close, as I always say.”

“Yes — and I see you're practicing that now.” She grinned at Xisuma.

The hand on X’s shoulder squeezed painfully tight.

“Oh, Ex had to leave — some poorly designed contract fell through.” The subtle snub wasn’t lost on Xisuma. “Obviously I was the best candidate to leave him with — ditzy little things like Xisuma need to be managed, and managed well. Otherwise, they’ll never make it to where they’re supposed to go!” 

The two laughed. 

“Helping with the models — Jeff, darling, the fashion world doesn’t deserve you.” Maria’s gaze turned to X. “And how are you, sweetheart, enjoying yourself?”

“Yes ma’am.” His shoulder was gripped ruthlessly, and his heart began to pound. If he said the wrong thing, he’d get hurt. He forewent trying to think of any good qualities Jeff had, and immediately pulled the first thought about Ex that popped into his head. “He’s — very kind.”

He must’ve said the right thing, because the pressure on his shoulder lightened. The woman’s grin widened.

"I'm sure he is." Before she could say another word, a clamor from the other end of the room caught her attention. "Oh — I have to attend to my pieces. Best of luck!" She squeezed X's arm. His skin crawled even after she sauntered off.

The moment she was out of sight, Jeff let go of him and strode off. X grabbed the wall, which was the only thing keeping him from sinking down onto his knees. He took in a few deep breaths. Holy hell — they reminded him of his family. Being trotted around like a show-pony, always having to say the right thing… He was going to need to move up his therapy appointment. 

BigB and Pearl eventually reappeared, which helped Xisuma calm his brain so he didn't feel like he was one wrong move away from getting murdered. By the time he was called in for the ocean photoshoot, he was feeling a lot better. And also trying to ignore the fact that Jeff could return at any time. He was fine — he needed to stop being so dramatic. He’d handled this sort of thing as a kid, and he could handle it now. The ocean photoshoots went easily, and Xisuma was again forced into a car with Jeff and three large men, and delivered to the hotel. He ordered food for himself again — finally thinking to purchase a few snacks in case he wasn’t fed tomorrow, and set an alarm before going to bed. 

The next morning, Xisuma got out of bed and started his day before someone came and yelled at him. He was almost immediately hit by the realisation that he didn’t know how he was getting to the interviews that were happening today. No phone meant no scheduling a ride, and he wasn’t exactly supposed to roll up to the building in a cab — it was another one of those things that the fashion world made a big deal out of. It meant nothing, really, but if he did take a cab, the news would eventually make its way to everyone. People would talk, and they might avoid getting into contracts with him and Ex if they thought the duo were running out of money. He paced his room for a while, before giving up and moving down to the lobby. After a few minutes of waiting, a familiar figure strolled through the arched doorway.

“Oh, you’re on time. Good.” Jeff strode past him, and Xisuma immediately scrambled up to follow him. It wasn’t the best idea, but it solved his problem. They stayed quiet for a bit as they got to the car, Jeff only talking after a couple minutes of driving. “Change of plans — you’re coming to my interview.”

“What? But what about—”

“You’ll have your own damn interview! You’ll just accompany me to mine as well — some eye candy for the viewers never hurts.”

“I don’t really—”

“Do I look like I care?! I have been chauffeuring you around this whole time, just to make sure you didn’t make a fool out of yourself! And then you treat me like this?!”

X went quiet. Jeff hadn’t been treating him well, but whether the designer knew that or not, it would only hurt to bring that up. He stayed quiet. Thankfully, this seemed to be the right decision. After a few more silent minutes, they pulled into a parking lot. The two made their way into the building, security letting them in without complaint. They eventually settled in a lobby further into the building. X fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. Jeff eventually looked over to glower at him.

“Would you stop that!”

X swallowed, looking around. Fortunately there was nobody there — no witnesses hopefully meant there was no damage to his reputation. After an eternity of sitting there in tense silence, someone entered the room.

“Jeff Hannagan?” They called, and the two stood.

They got settled in a cozy interview space — Xisuma sitting on an armchair while Jeff sat on a couch. 

“Alright — we’re just going to talk about the product a little bit. We’ll start with how the design process went, and then move into your message for consumers.”

“Sounds perfect.” Jeff said, his unnaturally bright smile on full display as they started the cameras.

He and the interviewer immediately launched into a conversation. X just sat there, smiling and nodding his head at occasional points. He had two main thoughts the whole time: 1) how much longer, and 2) I hope I’m doing this right. He started to space out at some point, nodding along when it thought it made him look most agreeable. There was a moment of silence, and X tuned back into the world to notice the others staring at him.

“...sorry?” He offered.

“I asked your thoughts on the collection.” The interviewer said, not seeming put off in any way. …maybe his reputation had reached her too.

“Oh — it’s delightful.” X smiled, all too aware that he knew absolutely nothing about the topic. “I really liked the way each individual piece had its own tone and flair.”

“What was your favorite piece?”

X cringed. Come on — keep it together!

“The — the hat?”

The room seemed to suddenly become 20 degrees colder. He felt his heart begin to race. The interviewer just laughed.

“Well — bless you for taking care of him.” They said to Jeff.

“He tries his best, but… I really have to keep an eye on him.”

“I’m sure.” There was another brief pause. “Well, thank you both for coming.”

“Thank you for having us.” Jeff’s smile was all teeth.

“That wraps up our interview today — if you’d like to purchase some of the famous Winter Warmth collection, just follow the link on the screen!”

The camera people stopped recording, and X was yanked up and dragged out of the recording studio. He let out a quiet hiss of pain.

“Seriously, after everything I’ve done for you—” He cut off with a groan. “Can you do anything right?” X stayed quiet. “Well, can you?”

“...no.”

Jeff shook his head, shoving X through a door. He stumbled and collapsed into an alley, pain shooting through his side. That was probably going to bruise…

“Stay here. I’ll come and get you for your interview.” Jeff turned, slamming the door behind him. 

X looked around — the alley was empty of people. He slowly crawled back to his feet, his breath hitching as tears welled in his eyes. He was so tired of this. Of being slapped around by a man who couldn’t seem to care less about how X was doing, except when it reflected on him. He — He missed Ex. He didn’t think they’d be particularly happy to see that, if they were here. They — they wouldn’t just let someone treat him like this, right? …right? The — they didn’t think he was useless… they didn’t hate him just like everyone else seemed to? He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. It was cold out here. He was cold, he was tired, and he was thirsty. And he was crying in a dirty alley — he couldn’t wait for this to be over.

When he finally stopped crying, he tried taking stock of his surroundings. For the most part, it was just two sheer stone walls and brick ground. On a whim he paced in one direction, and found a tall security fence. Up at the top of the fence the metal bars bent outward, ending in sharp points. X paced back to the other side, and found the same situation. No way out. Not unless— He tried the handle. It didn’t budge. The fear and panic about what might happen flooded back at once. He started to cry again. As he sniffled and tried to calm himself, the door swung open.

“Oh great — now this is what I have to deal with.” Jeff scowled. He was pulled back into the building, and eventually forced onto a chair in a somewhat secluded corner. The man pulled out his phone and stepped away to talk to someone. “Stay here.” He said, moving to sit on an armchair a few meters away. A short while later, a man in a sparkly button-up shirt strode into the room. Jeff pointed at X and demanded:

“Fix his face.”

The newcomer just nodded, setting a handbag on a small end table. He lifted X’s chin without saying a word.

“Oh, your makeup’s all ruined…  We’ll have to start over.” They pulled a makeup wipe from their bag. “Take it all off.” 

X glanced over at where Jeff was watching him from the corner, and quickly complied. When his face was bare again, the makeup artist gave him a once over.

"You're lucky you're pretty when you cry. Any other model and we'd have a catastrophe on our hands. This'll be an easy fix..."

It was meant to be comforting. At least, Xisuma thought it was. The man hadn't even leered at him, but his words still made X feel sick. The artist didn’t seem to notice, giving curt instructions as he slowly re-did X’s makeup. The foundation felt weird — too heavy, like a sheet of plastic was sticking to his face, and the red lipstick probably made more of a statement than he’d like. That combined with the cat eye and his highlighted cheekbones made X feel more like a showpiece than a person. It reminded him of how the first company he’d worked with had treated him. He did his best to push it aside. With the look done the makeup artist strolled out, and a few minutes later a different pink-haired woman entered the room.

“Xisuma?” X nodded, and the woman smiled, and X got up to follow her. “Hi, I’m Lizzie! It’s lovely to meet you — we’ll be right over here.

X barely managed to contain a grimace when Jeff got up and followed them into the interview room. He took a seat, positioning himself so he’d look best in the video.

“Ok — we’ll just ask you a few questions about the collection! If you don’t know, don’t worry — the editors will make you look good.”

X nodded. There was a still moment, before someone signed that they were recording. 

“Alright — Xisuma, we’d like your opinion on the Frozen Garden collection that was just released!” Lizzie said. “Do you happen to know anything about the process of developing the collection?”

X opened his mouth to say something.

“Oh, he doesn’t know anything.” Jeff waved her off. “It’s better if you direct your questions to me.”

The room went dead silent for a moment. The interviewer stared at him with a thin lipped smile.

“I think I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

X felt his shoulders slump in relief.

“How dare you!” Jeff shouted. “After everything I’ve done for this studio—”

“You’ve shown up for one interview, and blown off two others! We all know you’re nothing to this studio. Now, please leave before I make you.” Lizzie said genially.

Jeff scowled at her, before eventually standing.

“You’ll regret this.”

The woman just walked him to the door, poking her head out and saying:

“Joel, sweetheart, can you please escort Mr. Hannagan to the door?”

Someone must’ve come to get him, because the woman returned, sitting down in the same chair as before.

“I’m so sorry about that!” She said.

“No — Thank you. Really.”

She gave him a sad smile.

“Would you like a minute before we get started? We can also reschedule—”

“No.” X said, a bit more forcefully than he’d intended. “I just — need a second to clear my head.” She nodded, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. He eventually took in a deep breath. “Ok. I’m ready now.”

“Ok, take two!”

X nodded. She smiled back, the two checking their clothing once more, and the camera man signaled that they were recording.

“So, Xisuma, we’re here to talk about the Frozen Garden collection! What can you tell us about its inspiration?”

X thought for a moment, an explanation coming to his mind almost immediately.

“The clothes for Winter Garden were inspired by the dark, still feeling of winter, and the fact that beneath the snow sits many living things lying in wait. It’s about the wonder of knowing that even in a landscape that’s hard to survive in, there's still life that knows exactly how to make it through, and will bloom again when spring comes. We tried to capture the feeling of life laying in wait, just below what you can see.”

“Wow — that’s beautiful! Do you have a favorite piece?”

X explained the long coat that he and Ex had designed. It was made of thick dark fabric, and while it looked normal at first glance, it was actually embroidered with icy blue beads that sparkled when they caught the light. The interview spiraled into a nice, casual talk as he explained how they came about ideas and final products. Lizzie asked questions with such depth that he felt she was truly interested in what he was saying. Truely, it was one of the best interviews he’d ever had — he made a mental note to point Lizzie out to Ex later. 

All too soon, the interview came to an end. Lizzie said her closing remarks, and the cameras stopped rolling. He smiled at her.

“I really enjoyed that — if I can manage to come back to Paris to interview with you again, definitely will. And you could meet Ex then, too — I’m sure you two would get along.”

“We’d be delighted to have you back with us anytime!”

“Thank you.”

They walked back out into the lobby. He glanced over at the door and frowned. Ex had said they’d be back around now. If they didn’t show up, he’d be in a bit of a pickle.

“Waiting for someone?” Lizzie asked.

“Yes — Ex was supposed to make it here to pick me up. I’m assuming something delayed them, so they couldn’t make it to the interview.”

“We see that a lot. This industry is pretty hectic! Hey Joel!” She called over at the man running the main desk.

He looked up.

“Hm?”

“Xisuma here’s waiting for his ride — if Hannagan comes back again, please keep him away from X.”

“Got it.” Joel nodded, before continuing to type away at his keyboard.

He walked over to grab a seat, saying his goodbyes to Lizzie. After a few minutes, Joel looked over at him.

“You look really bad. Would you like some water?” His tone was so deadpan X had to bite back a laugh.

…now that he wasn’t faced with the immediate doom that was Jeff, he found he was actually very thirsty.

“Yes please.” 

Joel got up and shuffled around in the backroom as X approached the desk. He eventually thunked a bottle of water on the desk, before wordlessly going back to work. X took it, twisting off the cap and taking a large gulp. It was cold… that was really nice.

“Thank you.” He said, going to sit back down.

Joel just grumbled something incomprehensibly. For a few minutes, X waited in silence, watching the doors that led to the front entrance. The fact that he couldn’t see the main doors was killing him. A few hours passed, whatever energy had been fueling him before completely vanishing. Eventually, though, he heard a familiar call of:

“Xisuma?”

“Ex!” He must’ve sounded particularly desperate, because Ex’s pace picked up — for the first time in months — to something that couldn’t pass as aloof.

Ex burst through the doors, their lips pursed. They looked X up and down, and X couldn’t stop himself from rushing up and hugging them.

“...something happened.” X nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. It took mere moments for him to start crying again, soundlessly trembling in their arms. Eventually he managed to contain himself, and stepped back, wiping his eyes. Ex just looked at him for a moment. “...have you eaten?” X shook his head slowly. They winced. “Ok — come on.”

They left together, Ex guiding him to the car. For once, they had fast food for dinner — normally he would’ve cheered at that, because Ex rarely let himself be seen at these types of restaurants, but today he didn’t have the energy for it. He picked through his burger, before eventually giving up and tossing it. Ex tried twice to make conversation on the drive back, before deciding to let X be. He went to sleep early — or at least tried. He tossed and turned all night, and woke up barely feeling like he’d slept. It didn’t help that the flight was an early morning one, but X knew he could wait for another thirty minutes before it became a problem. He set another alarm and went back to sleep. He awoke to find Ex in his room, likely coming through the shared door.

“There you are, Xisuma.” His voice lacked its usual playful bite, now flat and careful. “Come on — you need to get ready.”

X grumbled his way upright. He halfheartedly brushed his teeth and gathered up his things, before finishing the last few tasks.

“Airport.” He mumbled, dragging his bag to the door.

Ex just smiled, grabbing their bags and strolling to the elevator.

“Why don’t you go grab a seat — I’ll check us out.” 

X nodded his thanks, and went to sink down into the couch. He blinked, and suddenly Ex was at his side, shaking his shoulders lightly. 

“Come on — bus is almost here.”

X reluctantly followed them outside. It was freezing — he rubbed his arms and practically ran onto the bus when it got there. They took a seat towards the back, X just resting as they drove. When they got to the airport, they waited in line to check their bags. The line was awful, it barely moved, and X’s feet still hurt. Eventually Ex, having been casting him sideways glances for the last twenty minutes, leaned over to whisper:

“Go sit down.”

“Ok. Thanks…” He mumbled, moving over to sit across the room. He paid no attention to how the line was moving, and eventually Ex returned.

“Security now.”

X nodded. That line was long too, but was easier to deal with. At least — up until they got to the X-ray bins. X stared at the signs, and then at his bag. Laptop… did he have a laptop? Did he have to take anything out? Ex sent his bag through, and then pushed X’s in after it. X listed towards the metal detectors, and Ex grabbed his wrist. X flinched as pain lit up his skin. He snatched his arm away, and Ex frowned.

“Shoes, Xisuma.” The words were far too patient for how much Xisuma was struggling with something he’d done hundreds of times.

“...right.” He pulled them off, and sent them through in a bin as well.

Finally he walked through the detectors, and was able to collect his things. The two took a second to get situated, before stumbling to their gate. Eventually X sat down in a chair, pulling one knee up to his chest and resting his head.

“...what’s going on, Xisuma?” Ex asked.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Something happened when I was gone. …will you tell me about it?”

X hesitated. Ex would believe him. He was already in a better place than most other models, because they’d never accuse him of making things up. But also, Jeff was an incredibly powerful person in the fashion world — what if they got blacklisted from big events? What if this messed up their entire business?

“Can — Can it wait until we get home…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it can.” Ex glanced up at the clock. “Ok… about another couple hours, and then we get on the plane. Then it’s an hour and a half flight, and about an hour’s drive back. …you gonna be alright?”

“I’ll be fine.” X mumbled glumly.

The first hour-or-so passed smoothly, until a voice came over the intercoms. It said something in French, but neither X nor Ex understood it. X waited for the bomb joke, but it never came. After a moment, it switched to English.

“We apologise for the inconvenience, but flight BA398 will be delayed due to a maintenance problem. More information will come when inspections are complete.”

X groaned, dropping his head into his hands, and Ex rubbed his back. 

“Looks like we might be here a while.” They said. “You need anything?”

“I’m hungry…”

Ex looked around. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t think there’s any food in this terminal.”

X rubbed his eyes. 

“I’m tired, I hate this place.”

“Yeah… me too. Hopefully they’ll get us out soon.”

They did not, in fact, get the two out soon. Three hours later, when Xisuma was ravenous with hunger and near-delirious from exhaustion — and Ex had threatened to sue the company twice — they got an update.

“Flight BA398 will be moved to Terminal 3, Gate 78. Again, we apologise for the inconvenience.”

Ex bit back something snarky and helped X up.

“Ok — come on. They just put the departure time on the screen, but since we need a different terminal we’ve gotta go now if we want to make it.”

X groaned but complied, letting them lead him through the terminal. At some point they stepped onto a moving walkway, and X nearly tripped. Ex caught him, pulling him back upright.

“You’re alright, X. I’ll warn you when we step off, alright?” They paused, then: “Ok, walkway ends — now!”

X stepped off, managing to stay fully way upright this time. They repeated that process a few times, until they eventually made it outside. X shivered, rubbing his arms, but a bus quickly came. They boarded and sat down, eventually making it to the new terminal. They listed off the bus, and X was quickly alarmed by the fact that they were faced with another security line. Ex put a hand on his shoulder as X leaned some of his weight into them.

“Almost done, X. I know you’re exhausted, but we’re almost there.”

X tried to believe him, even though it sounded like he was lying. He spaced out through most of the security line, barely tuning back into reality when Ex prompted him to take off his shoes and backpack. He stumbled through the metal detector, Ex quickly coming to steady him. They picked up their things — X hefting a painfully heavy bag onto his back, doing his best to keep the weight off his brusied side, and set off. 

“Ok… gate 78. So that’s — Shit. We’re next to gate 317.”

X groaned, leaning his head against their shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry. But hey — there’s food.”

X grumbled wordlessly as they started for a gate. After a minute, Ex stopped.

“Oh — Excuse me!” X blinked his eyes open. It was a golf cart. …why talk to a golf cart?

“Hi there!” Someone said. 

X looked up. In the golf cart, predictably, was a person. Yeah, that made more sense…

“Hi. My friend and I’s flight got delayed a couple hours, and then we got moved over to gate 78. Is there any way you can take us? X is feeling really dizzy — he hasn’t eaten today, he’s exhausted.”

“Oh, I’m not really supposed to…” X blinked up at the driver and gave them his best, biggest puppy eyes. “Uh… you know what, sure. Hop on.”

He was helped onto the back of a golf cart, someone wrapping an arm around his torso. A conversation continued around him, but he didn’t notice. Eventually they made it somewhere, because they got up and Xisuma was helped to a new seat. A few minutes later, he smelled something. Something that smelled like bacon. He peeled his eyes open.

“Here — breakfast sandwich.” Ex pressed it into his hands.

X took a cautious bite, before quickly devouring the whole thing.

“Thanks.” He mumbled.

“Mhm. 20 minutes until we board.”

X nodded faintly, letting his head come to rest on Ex’s shoulder. He didn’t remember the rest of sitting in that airport, only being frustrated when he had to move to shamble onto the plane. He didn’t remember the flight either — it was all a big miserable blur of exhaustion and fuzzy mental images. They got to London, X only realising that when he was shaken awake. He was led off the plane and to their bags, then to a limo. They slid into the back, Ex buckling X’s seat-belt when X forgot to do it himself. His head dropped against Ex’s shoulder, and he slid back out of consciousness. He didn't remember getting home either. One moment he was in the car pulling away from the airport, and the next he was in pajamas and crawling into bed. Ex ruffled his hair, and whispered:

“Good night.”

“Nigh’...” He managed to respond, about a second before he fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning to light peaking in through the curtains. There was so little of it, he was easily able to roll over and go back to sleep. He actually awoke several hours later, pulling himself up out of bed and wandering out into the living room. Ex was already awake, looking over the concept art and technical sketches scattered across the coffee table. X sat down next to him, rubbing his eyes. 

“Pancakes sound good?” They eventually said.

“They sound great.” He mumbled.

Ex stood, the both of them moving to the kitchen. They pulled out ingredients from memory, the both of them having memorised the recipie after what must’ve been the 30th time making it. X measured out and mixed the dry ingredients while Ex dealt with the wet ones, and soon the pancakes were cooked, the extra batter set off to the side so they could make leftovers after they ate. Xisuma grabbed the syrup from the fridge, plunking Ex’s favorite fruity syrup down next to them, and keeping the overly processed sweet stuff for himself. Ex set plates out for them both, and they grabbed their pancakes. X immediately drowned his in syrup, which got him a fond sigh from Ex, who poured a lot less syrup on his food. They ate in silence for a minute.

“The editors sent me a copy of your interview — you did great. The press’ll love it.” Ex eventually said.

X shrugged.

“The woman who was interviewing me — Lizzie — asked some great questions.”

“So you’re saying we should try and schedule with her again?” X nodded. “Alright… I’ll add her to the list. At least the thing’s over a page now that we’ve been doing this for a while.”

‘The list,’ as Ex had dubbed it, was a collection of people within the world of fashion who, in X’s eloquent opinion, didn’t suck to be around. After one too many interviews where the people asked awkward, personal questions about Xisuma and Ex, they’d created one list with people they liked, and a long blacklist of people they refused to share a room with.

“Yeah — we’ve had good luck, these days. Maybe word’s starting to get around that we won’t just sit back and let people treat us like the dirt beneath their shoes.”

Ex went quiet for a moment.

“So… I heard you were also in Jeff’s interview.” X tensed, and they noticed. “Xisuma… what happened?”

X shuddered.

“I — It was stupid, I was stupid, it—”

“Hey, breathe.” Ex took in a slow breath, and X mimicked it. “We’re ok.”

X nodded slowly.

“He — wasn’t very happy that you left. He told me he’d heard that I was bad at my job, that I couldn’t do anything if you weren’t around. So he decided to manage me himself.” Ex grimaced. “He put me in a room and told me not to leave, but after a few hours I got thirsty so I snuck out. He found me immediately. He — He slapped me, and locked me in a room.”

“Bastard.” Ex snarled.

X forced himself to keep going.

“Somehow during that, I lost my phone, so I couldn’t call anyone for help. After an hour or two he came back, and brought me backstage for the show. Afterwards, he herded me into a car.” He saw Ex stiffen. “I was worried, but he only brought me to the hotel. I went to bed, but since he didn’t let me get my phone back, nothing woke me up in the morning. He banged on the door until I answered, and told me I was late. He brought me to the set and got some people to do my makeup. They dropped me off with the other models, and I stuck with Pearl and BigB for as long as I could.” He could see Ex nod, likely glad that X had gotten a reprieve from Jeff’s… whatever you wanted to call it. “I stepped off-set for lunch, and when I came back he got mad at me for wandering off again. And then this lady came over — Maria — and he grabbed me. Told her that you’d put him up to the task of taking care of me, and squeezed my shoulder hard to pressure me into playing along.” Ex grit his teeth.

“Was she…?” 

“She didn’t do anything, just — looked at me. I didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell her off, but before she could really do anything she had to leave. Jeff left as well. He only reappeared after the photoshoots were over, and herded me into a car again to bring me to the hotel. The next day I went down to the lobby, and he brought me to where the interviews were. Told me I was going to his interview as ‘eye candy.’” Ex clenched their jaw. “He — didn’t let me argue. So I went. And then at the end of the interview, the interviewer asked me about my thoughts on the collection he’d released. I didn’t know anything about it, so when they asked what my favorite piece was, I panicked and said the hat. Apparently there wasn’t a hat — the interviewer laughed at me, and complimented Jeff for putting up with me. When the cameras stopped he dragged me into the hall and threw me outside into an alley. I fell hard, and he—” X’s breathing shook. “—he slammed the door behind me. I started crying, because it hurt and I was just so tired of it. I eventually looked around and realised I was trapped — there were fences on either side of the alley, and the door was locked. I panicked — it was cold, I was hurt, and I didn’t think I could get out if he didn’t open the door. I started crying again.” Ex pursed his lips, and X kept going. “He came back and got mad because my makeup was ruined. He must’ve called a makeup artist, because someone came to redo it before my interview. The style was… I didn’t like it, but I didn’t think I could just tell them to change it.”

“So that was why…” He barely heard Ex mumble under their breath.

“They left when it was done, and Lizzie called me in for the interview. Jeff followed. When it started, he cut me off and tried to direct all the questions to himself. Lizzie kicked him out, and we restarted. It was — one of the best interviews I’ve done. When it was over she brought me to the lobby to wait for you. The man at the counter got me water, and then you showed up.”

Ex grimaced, looking absolutely crushed.

“Oh X…”

“Don’t! Don’t pretend this is all your fault! You had to leave—”

“Not when my leaving meant people treated you like that! I messaged you three separate times, but even when you didn’t answer I tried not to read into things. But apparently I should’ve—”

“Ex, please don’t.” X whispered. “I’m… I’m tired of the yelling.”

They immediately slumped in their seat, rubbing the bridge of their nose.

“Ok. I’m sorry, no more yelling. I — we’ll make a plan. If we have to split up again, we’ll check in with each other. And if you don’t respond, I’ll come back to get you.”

X wanted to argue, but some deeper part of himself was satisfied with that idea.

“Ok. And I’ll keep an eye on you too, so no disappearing."

“No disappearing. …also Jeff’s getting blacklisted from everything.”

“Ex you can’t—”

“I most definitely will! …Xisuma do you really want to have to be around him again?”

“No, but… he’s even more influential than we are. He could wreck our reputation, we really shouldn’t make enemies with him.”

“He made enemies with us when he decided to hurt you. And — X, do you really think you’re the first person he’s treated like that?”

“...no. He sounded like he just really hated models.”

“Ok. So we won’t allow him into any places where he can hurt other models. Sure, maybe we can’t stop him from being at larger events, but we can definitely keep him out of ours. We’ll keep you and all the other models as safe as we can. And maybe forcing him to face some consequences for his actions will make others feel like they can speak up and be believed.”

X sighed.

“Ok. He’s blacklisted.”

“Glad we agree.” Ex said. “And about the photoshoot in three days—” X shuddered. “—we’ll cancel it. I’m not going to try and make you go if you aren’t feeling ready.”

“...thanks, Ex.”

“Of course. Now — trashy TV time?”

“Only after we clean up the kitchen.”

“Boo, boring!”

X laughed, standing up.

“Come on — the quicker we do this, the quicker we can watch the drama.”

Ex shook his head fondly and stood, gathering the dishes and beginning to clean.