CH 8

After the hard photo shoot, everyone went back to the supermodel house for the night. The next day would be when the results were announced, and from my perch on one of the long sofas in the living room I could hear those around me who had also failed to get a bed tossing and turning, thinking that even the sixteen people who slept in the comfortable beds would lose sleep.

Tomorrow's elimination would determine whether they would remain in the tournament, and it would be seen as a great irony if those who slept in their beds now were eliminated.

Chris's gaze reflected in the moonlight coming through the glass doors in the living room like a wolf in the forest, and I locked eyes with him before falling into a deep sleep as he stared at me.

The next morning the models woke up to be informed that there would be another runway show tonight and that this one would be a challenge. America's Next Top Model is eliminated based on three things, the judges' assessment of the hard photos, the score of the challenge and the social media vote.

As the results were announced in the evening, there was a stifling pressure in the Supermodel House all day. I nestled on the sofa looking at the new book I had bought before entering the Supermodel House.

"High-IQ Crime?" Chris broke twice as much coffee over from the kitchen and placed a cup on the coffee table in front of me. "You read all sorts of weird books, there were psychology related books I saw in your luggage yesterday, what was the major you enrolled in at Stanford?"

I put the book down and took a sip of the coffee he had brought and said, "Psychology department, I thought you knew that. I minored in criminal psychology and went to a criminology course at Eastside University while I was in New York waiting for my re-election results and suddenly got interested and bought the book."

Chris blinked his eyes in bewilderment, even though he had this expression sharp eyebrows and deep contours that made him look like a bad boy with a fierce look.

Just as Chris and I were talking about his wanderings, Jamie, who was disliked by Alice, came over and joined us. Nina, trying to fit in with the circle of female models, was by now chatting to the girls in the garden.

The sun was starting to set in the west again as I put together the book that featured the most stunning criminal of the twentieth century to see where Neil Caffrey appeared. Maybe I should find the nearest bookshop and buy another book this time when I go downtown again. I'll have to buy a thicker one this time, otherwise I'll have finished half of it by the end of the day with nothing to do.

It's been two years since I've had such a leisurely and comfortable day since I got out of the mental institution that held Brian for over ten years. It was even a bit uncomfortable for a while as I was busy at various part-time workplaces every day.

The models screamed and cheered with excitement at the first sentence, only to fall silent instantly at the second. The pressure was on the heads of the crowd.

"As if that wasn't scary enough," Taylor smiled as she turned and held out her hand, "the president of Guess will be watching the show himself." With that a slightly short, middle-aged man stepped out from backstage.

He didn't look too impressive, but his worth could be seen in the price of the clothes he was wearing. He followed Taylor's words with an opening statement, but I noticed that when he gave examples of Guess models, all he mentioned were female models. I knew that if nothing else, the supermodel competition would still be won by a female model.

I was a little upset to realise this, but even if I couldn't do anything to change the status quo, I wouldn't let it stop me from taking on the challenge. The prize included a contract with Guess, and I was not surprised that Guess had to see the models in person.

"Gianna." The girl had never had much of a presence, but she had a different look from the usual narrow face of a female model, her jawbone was wide being a square cheek, which made her very unique in hard photos.

"Marvin." Marvin was as popular as ever and most of his brother company still gave him cheers despite the pressure still being on.

"Cheryl." Another black female, differing from Rena in that her features were more tense than Rena's small and delicate ones.

Chris was the most promising male model of the rest as far as I could see, and his story had been particularly well documented by the cameras, and with so much effort spent on him, I couldn't believe that All-American Supermodel would give up on him so quickly.

"Konani." I can say that Konani is my favourite looker among female models, she has Cuban heritage and will always present an elegant air in hard photos. The only question was whether she could manage an airy style other than that.

After a few seconds of final silence, "Chris." That was the end of the eight male and eight female places in the promotion.

Chris' eyes grew instantly at the sound of his name, and I even had the illusion that his pupils tightened for a moment as he dropped his hand from his mouth and walked slowly over to me with his hands over his face. I had to take the mentally stimulated coyote's head in my arms and rub his back to calm him down.

Only two of Marvin's company of brothers had entered, Dan and Phil, so the atmosphere was a little awkward and when Chris' name was called. Marvin walked up to say goodbye to his friend who had fallen through the cracks. Chris was clearly in a secret mood, although his face was cold, his upturned mouth and arched eyebrows could still be seen through the slits in his fingers covering his face.

At some point Chris had turned against Marvin, who was somewhat involved with me, so whenever Marvin was around me, he would follow me around for a moment. Even if the starting point was different, I still thought I saw another Jamie.

Childish possessiveness. Childish but understandable, the only person he could talk to in the supermodel house, apart from Nina, a good girl with a gentle personality, was me, and I was still the guy who wouldn't cause a crowd to rise.

After the promotion slots were announced, and without giving the crowd time to catch their breath, Tyler followed up with an announcement of what the challenge would entail.

"The end of the catwalk is at my feet," Taylor gestured to the carpet with the Guess logo at her feet, "but it starts..." and Taylor turned her hand up to point to the top of the dozen-storey building with the The Guess logo banner articulated all the way to the top of that building.

The girls screamed, and the otherwise calm boys shouted when they saw the demonstrator walking down face down, ninety degrees perpendicular to the wall.

Chris's mouth grew in surprise as he watched the demonstration. I had never done anything like this before either, and now I could only hope that when I was dropped like bait on the pressure and walked down, I wouldn't move too stiffly.

Nina was the first to respond by asking a question that concerned the female models, "Are we going to walk down in high heels?"

Looking into the praying eyes of all the girls, Taylor still didn't hesitate to say, "Yes, the female models need to wear high heels."

It seems that the girls have added a level of difficulty to themselves as they have taken over the fashion world. High heels, make-up and long hair, whereas the boys never had to concern themselves with that.

In the dressing room, the make-up artists put light make-up on the models, each with a bed of Guess' latest season outfit and a denim jacket over it. As it was starting to drizzle outside, we were asked to take off our jackets after we walked from the roof to the ground and then finally show our outfits on the catwalk on the flat ground.

Unfortunately, Nina and I were drawn into the first group. The rain had turned into a downpour, the temperature was dropping fast and my arms and legs were starting to stiffen. As I stepped up to the top of the building, the audience downstairs with their transparent umbrellas looked like neatly arranged glass bottles from this height.

The judges were split into two groups, Taylor, Norma and Jonathan were in front of a monitor on the roof watching a vertical shot of the catwalk, which would show the models walking down the vertical walls at a reverse angle to the ground, as if it were a normal catwalk. The other group, Rob and Andy, were on the ground with the President of Guess watching the overall effect from a normal perspective.

Nina and I stepped up to the edge of the roof when the crew told me that the safety line had been tied. When you're standing in that position, even if your told it was safe, looking at the vertical height still gives the illusion that one step out is an abyss.

I poked half of my feet over the edge and started to lean slowly at a vertical angle, just as I heard a scream from Nina on my left.