Page 15 of Everything She Wanted

Eshaan turns away from me to face the guy. I linger at his side.

“One of the models is MIA.”

“Fuck. The show starts in twenty. Do we have anyone else who can step in?”

“No, there’s no one else. Unless we pull someone from out here.” Headset Guy looks at me with an appraising gaze, and I slowly step away. There’s no way I’m getting up there in front of all these people. I’m about to tell Shaan that I see a friend and I’m going to go say hi when he turns to me.

“Nish, what do you think? You can model one outfit for us, right?”

He says it in a way that makes me feel like I’d be rude to say no. Present a slide deck to a large audience, I can do. Walk a runway in front of them? Fuck no.

Having eyes on me when I didn’t have the chance to meticulously prepare is my worst nightmare. Here are hundreds of people taking videos and photos and posting them, and I’d have no control over what someone might say about me. No, I won’t let Eshaan push me into this, even though he’s pushed me before to do what he needed instead of what I wanted. I try to gather my resolve.

“I, um.”

My palms are slick, and the room is suddenly stifling. I just need to form one word to get out of this. I swallow as they both look at me expectantly, and I can’t do it. I can’t say no.

“Of course.”

“Great. Follow me this way.” Headset Guy races down the hallway. I shoot Eshaan a quick look that I hope conveys my agitation.

He leans in and gives me a peck. “You’re the best, babe. You’ll do great.”

I smile even though my organs are twisting into knots. I down my drink, wishing I had time for another.

Headset Guy leads me backstage into a sea of high cheekbones, long limbs, and rail-thin arms, and I feel so self-conscious. I’m slim, but definitely not like these ladies. The bright lights, commotion, and cramped quarters raise my apprehension with every step. I look away from the glamorous models and instead focus on my breath. I make each step mindful. Headset Guy points to a makeshift change room that’s just two sheets hung from the wall and points inside.

“Change into that outfit, and then Alyssa will do your hair and makeup.”

I’m guessing Alyssa is the pink-haired woman with a lip ring, who’s impatiently tapping her foot next to a table spread with more shades of makeup than I’ve ever seen in one place.

As he scutters away I step in, trying unsuccessfully to close the sheets around me. I give up and start undressing. The outfit is so stunning, I stop for a moment and just run my hands over it. It’s silver with crystals everywhere. The top is cropped with short sleeves, and there’s a tie with more crystals on the back, while the skirt is a mermaid-style lehenga. I’m grateful my tummy will be covered, as it’s not concave like the other models’. I put on the skirt first and just manage to zip up the side. Then I try to put the top on, but it’s way too tight and doesn’t even close. Shame rises and flushes my cheeks.

Alyssa takes one look at me struggling and says, “I’ll get the seamstress.” She rushes away.

“Five minutes until showtime!” Headset Guy’s voice breaks through the commotion, and the models start filing out behind the stage. My distress grows.

Alyssa rushes back with a lady I recognize from Eshaan’s store.

“Auntie Ji.”

“Hi, Nisha. Let me fix that.”

Her reassurance relaxes me, and she deftly pulls apart the side seams, making more room on the bust.

“Take off your bra, and it should fit now.” I do what she says, trying to hide how uncomfortable I am undressing in front of them.

It fits like a glove, but I don’t have time to relish my relief as Alyssa leads me to the makeup chair and swipes off the makeup I spent so much time applying earlier. She then deftly paints my eyelids with pink, blue, and silver eyeshadow, followed by thick winged eyeliner and lashes so substantial I’d expect to see them on a drag queen.

She pauses as if she senses my anxiety. “We still have thirty minutes. You’ll be the last one to go on stage.”

I sink into the seat a little as she adds silver shimmer to my cheekbones. She places bindis not only on my forehead, but also all around my eyebrows and the sides of my eyes, with a large silver tikka leading into my hair. I notice that all the other models have similar bindi styles. If only I could pull off the look like they do. I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

Alyssa puts hot pink lipstick on me and then stands back, satisfied. I notice massive crystal earrings on the table.

“Do I need to wear those?”

“What?” She’s still looking at me with scrutiny but follows where I point my finger. “Yes, put them on.”