Page 69 of Sweet Thing

CHAPTER 35

Baby loves that way

Simeon was humbled by how his closest friends and allies pulled together after his ‘slip', the Dr. explained that, as it was the first bender he’d had in over two years, it was not considered a relapse at this time, just a slip-up, and he should use it as an opportunity to pinpoint what triggered his need for alcohol, and work on dealing with his anxiety. Simeon had extra counseling sessions with Marcus’s husband, Gorges, as well as video web consultations with Dr. Schroeder.

Bastian also decided to follow Simeon into therapy, and found a therapist who specialized in grief counseling, so that both he and Sim could both exorcise their ghosts and start a new chapter together.

Simeon’s friends made sure that no news of his admission to St Hedwig's was made public, and so his fears about fucking up his career were unfounded. He was beginning to think he had the luck of a cat, as he’d been given a third chance to make a fresh start. This time he would not screw it up

****

When Simeon arrived at the venue for the PREMIER fashion show, he came upon two burly guards at the stage door who demanded his ID. One of the men paged the assistant stage manager, Julien Witt, who arrived moments later.

“Hi, Simeon, good to meet you. Come with me,” the man said, his hand over his phone so the caller he was on the line with would not hear him. The guards stood aside and let Sim enter. “Yes, Mr. Masculo is here already. We expected this delivery thirty minutes ago”, he spat haughtily and gave Simeon a withering, exasperated look. “Bring the food to the stage door and ask for me. Okay.” Julien ended his call and took off at a hurried pace. Simeon was quickly at his side.

“François is very particular about having Dim Sum before a show. He can’t stomach anything else,” Julien explained as they walked. Simeon expected the chaos that was customary for a fashion show backstage area. However, the lack of people and busyness alarmed him.

“Are we running behind schedule?” Sim asked Julien as they walked through the building.

“No, all is going to plan.”

“Where the hell is everybody?” Sim was confused. Where were the agents, editors, terse publicists, micro-managers with clipboards barking orders, invasive photographers forcing their lenses into every nook and cranny, then the bloggers, and fashionista hangers-on who generally milled around backstage to leech off of the frenetic creative atmosphere? Where were the models?

Behind the scenes had been divided into specific stations where the male models would have their hair and make-up done, get dressed and accessorized according to the specifications for each look, and then stand in line ready for their inspection by the designer before they walked. The hair and makeup station was to Sim’s left. A row of tables, mirrors, and salon chairs lined a wall, and an array of cosmetics, brushes, and hair products were set out to create the looks for the collection. Ten stylists milled around, checking and rechecking that all of their implements were good to go. Simeon saw two familiar faces among the group waiting for the madness to begin. Both Gretchen and Oli were working this gig. It was like his whole family was in on the show. He gave them both a tentative wave as he passed and mouthed ‘Laters', not wanting to delay the stern-faced Julien and his determination to get Simeon where he was supposed to be.

They passed a wall containing of images of body shots of the models. There would be twenty-eight male models and thirty looks. Pieter and Simeon were the only ones who would walk twice. The collection featured six types of daddies. The Hipster Daddy, Traditional Daddy, Sporty Daddy, Academic Daddy, Business Daddy, and Handy Daddy. Each element of the collection had five outfits and was to be worn by models who varied in ages and looks. This wasn’t a run-of-the-mill fashion show, by any means. Masculo wanted to step outside of the industry-box and create a show-format that would add to his brand, which was well known for being Avant Garde. Simeon browsed another board showing a host of happy, smiley baby images, pairing them with their ‘daddy.' He was paired with a seven-month-old, dark haired, brown-eyed baby boy named Oscar, whom he’d met only once before.

“Masculo has a strict child protection policy in place.” Julien informed as he sauntered through an open plan area, “The only people getting past Franz and Mika are those working on the show,” he said of the two brick-shit-house built guards who manned the stage door. “Mr. Masculo has permitted Aaron Schaeffer from Magnum to document backstage, and Anya Michelle from Vogue to interview. That’s it. Don’t even think you can sneak a friend back; it’s not gonna happen.”

Simeon’s brows rose at hearing the man’s snooty attitude. He thought it was great that Masculo took the safety of the baby models so seriously, but he knew a lot of publicists, photographers, and agents who would be royally pissed at being barred from accessing backstage—a place where they believed they were entitled to be.

Simeon had no intention of sneaking anyone backstage. His best friend was walking with him, other friends were on hair and makeup, and his partner would be in the front row of the audience.

“We have a mother-and-baby area set up here,” Julien continued, directing to a doorway with a large, smiley star painted on it. “And Daddies are in here,” he said directing to a door opposite. “Chill for twenty. Most of the babies are still on nap time, and we're still waiting for a few more of the guys to arrive. We’re doing a walk-through at 3 p.m.”

Hanging around was as much a part of being a model as walking was. Most of Simeon’s time on a show was spent hanging around waiting to be called for hair, makeup, and dressing. He entered the room set aside for the male models and immediately saw Pieter huddled on the floor in a corner, his head in a book. Simeon smiled. There was something so endearing about seeing Pieter back in this environment, reading. It brought back all kinds of warm, fuzzy memories of the hours they had spent on jobs around the world, huddled together like refugees, reading to escape the feelings of isolation, and pass the time until they were called. There was always a ridiculous shortage of seats for models. Sim had worked on hundreds of shows, and there were never enough seats.

“Whatcha reading?” Simeon asked, as he crossed his feet and slid down the wall beside Pieter to sit on the floor.

“Scott Lynch, book three.”

“Oh, that was so good. I can’t wait for book four.” Sim enthused.

“How’s my favorite boy?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” Pieter snickered and was punished with a jab to the ribs.

“Lukas is great. He’s with Emily in the Mom-and-baby room. Did you take a peek? Oh my Gott, it made me so clucky.” Pieter exclaimed. “Emily said there’s no chance of a brother or sister for Lukas, one baby’s enough—but I’ll keep working on her!” he admitted conspiratorially.

Simeon laughed. He looked around the room at the other models, some sitting on white plastic chairs, others sitting on the floor or against a wall. Most of the men had their attention on their phones, or heads in a book. Sim waved at a couple of guys he knew and vowed to catch up with them both later. He continued his conversation with Pieter.

After twenty-five minutes the models were called and led out onto the runway. Pieter and Simeon lined up with twenty-eight good-looking men, some of whom they both knew, and others who had debuted on the circuit while they were both out of the industry. The stage manager, Sandrine Prince, explained that the running time for the show was to be just nine minutes. Simeon was always amazed at how much work went into a show for just a few minutes of performance.

The stage-set comprised of a line of woodland tree silhouettes that covered the length of the stage. There was a gap in the center of the woodland for models to enter and exit the runway. The runway itself was the shape of a masculine Mars symbol—a large circle with an arrow protruding from its side that extended out into the audience.

The designer, François Masculo, strode into the hall, and suddenly there was a buzz of electricity in the air. Lighting and sound technicians continued to work on, as Masculo mounted the stage with an athleticism unexpected for a man of his age. He was in his late sixties, skinny to the point of being a sack of bones wrapped in sagging skin. His half-bald tanned pate was smattered with dark freckles, and his remaining hair was bleached blond. He was an unusual looking man, but what he lacked in looks he made up for with his powerful personality. There was an aura about him that Simeon could not help but be energized by. The enthusiastic way he addressed the group of thirty models was so empowering, that Sim felt himself getting a little emotional, and lost in the man’s vision for his show. Masculo explained:

“The Baby/Daddy collection is representing the archetype of fatherhood. You are masculine, strong, dependable, and fearless. You will protect your baby with every cell in your being, yes?” There was a rousing agreement from the models. “A baby is the purest human form, because they are free of any preconceived ideas. The baby is connected to the mother by the cord, but the connection with the father is different. The bond has to be nurtured. Ultimately, your baby is a sign of connection, of growth, and of the future. The baby/daddy collection is for the next generation. I want them to live in a society free of prejudice, where fathers can feel empowered and unafraid of being close to their children, and children can have two dads, and no one bats an eye as long as the child is loved, you know? For me, the collection is an evolution, where garments attach and detach from the baby, giving the womb experience to the father, instilling a feeling of security in the baby even when it is not in its mother’s arms.”