Afreak, that’s what she looked like. In another life, Angelica had worn revealing clothing or no clothing at all-depending on who was telling the story. When she pole danced and the lust-filled men were yelling for her to take it off, Angelica was in a zone. The itsy-bitsy bikini she wore was only a tease to the gyrations that caused men to pull twenty-dollar bills out of their wallets and place it in her G-string.
The outfit she wore now didn’t feel comfortable, and it seemed tasteless for a magazine spread. Maybe it was because she expected to be wearing a glamorous gown and four-inch diamond stilettos. Something was wrong with this current picture; no, it didn’t feel right at all.
Angelica paced as she waited to be called. It seemed odd that she was the only one left in the room. It gave her time to think, if nothing else, but her mind was clouded and no reason could get through.
“Angelica.” It was a voice from a loudspeaker. “Please proceed to Stage II.”
Stage II? Angelica had no idea where to find it. She opened the door and left the room to venture through the hallway. She hadn’t noticed it before, but on the wall were little hangers with the words Stage I, Stage II, and Stage III hanging from each one. She found Stage II, opened the door, and walked onto a stage that made her bottom lip drop.
The room looked like a jungle. Fake palm trees and antelope-skin rugs were scattered throughout the room as well as light colored straw meant to resemble the brush in Africa. Black, white, brown, and cream colored material was draped on the walls of the stage. What made Angelica recoil was not the large brass bed in the middle of the room with leather bands attached to it by chains, but the real male lions that were housed in brass cages beside it. The lions looked as if they would welcome a human meal if the opportunity presented itself.
“Take your places,” Donna spoke.
Angelica remained still, not sure where her place was. Jazz climbed on the bed and was followed by one of the other women that came in late. Madeline and Coco moved to each post of the bed while two other women took their positions behind them.
“Angelica, you will get on the bed with Jazz and Ciara,” Donna said, pointing the way with a long-lens camera resting on the other arm.
Angelica looked at Donna as if she was crazy. Get on the bed with these women and do what? Angelica was thinking.
“You need to move it, Angelica,” Donna prodded. “Time is money.”
Angelica moved toward the bed in no hurry. There was complete silence as the rest of the group waited for her to take her place and receive the next order from Donna.
“Angelica, you will lie in the middle of the bed with your legs slightly bent, and Jazz, you will get beside her and lift her hair and put it to your nose while you drop your other hand to her stomach. Ciara, you will be on the other side of Angelica. We will take several frames. You will take your hand and caress her face, finally giving her a passionate kiss. André, place Angelica’s hands in the cuffs.”
“What kind of magazine is this?” Angelica questioned, pushing Andre’s hands away and scooting off the bed.
“Do you not need a job?” Donna asked.
“I thought this was supposed to be a modeling job,” Angelica countered.
“What do you think this is? You are posing, modeling, whatever you want to call it. You are wasting my time. Now get back to your post.”
“No female is going to be kissing on me. You all act like a bunch of lesbos.”
The air was thick and very quiet on the set.
“Oh, hell no,” Angelica screamed. “Oh, hell no! You have misrepresented yourself, Donna. This may be your gig, but it isn’t mine.”
“Fine, get the hell out,” Donna screamed back. “Just remember, you no longer have a job and you will not have a place to live. If you can’t pay your way, you have no place to stay.”
Donna picked up her camera and began to click away, giving orders that her subjects, minus Angelica, obeyed. Angelica stood by, disgusted at what she saw, closing her eyes during acts that a heterosexual being such as herself found most repulsive. She would have left, but she had no way out of the jungle she found herself in, and she had to pray that Donna would at least give her a ride back to her apartment so she could collect her things. Angelica’s eyes flew open at the roar of one of the lions.
Silence was deafening. Angelica would have felt better if Donna had cussed at her or something. Completely ignored, Angelica looked out of the window and watched as the busy streets of New York conducted their business-taxis escorting tourists to one of the many Broadway plays and busy restaurants welcoming early evening customers for dinner. It would be easy to fall in love with this city, but Angelica had already hit her first obstacle in less than a week, and without a job and a place to live, her empty condo in Fayetteville, North Carolina was looking pretty good.
“You and your stuff have twenty-four hours to be out of my house,” Donna finally said without looking in Angelica’s direction.
“We should talk about it,” Angelica said.
Silence ensued, and Angelica left it at that. She had no idea where she would go and what she would do for money. She had enough money to stay in a hotel for a while, but she needed a job if she planned on staying in the Big Apple. Her plans did not include running back to Fayetteville, at least not this soon. Margo, Malik, Jefferson, and Hamilton were better off without her.