On my next day off I go to my scheduled appointment at The Funhouse. I called on the phone and said Charlotte recommended me, and immediately I was given a time and a date, not even asked why or what about.

When I got to the building, it’s a lot different than what I expected. It’s a refurbished warehouse. On the outside it looks quite dreary, but on the inside there’s people walking back and forth, luxurious costumes, different sets in different corners. The man in charge of it all, Gregorio, is the center of it all.

So much is going on at once, and I don’t know which is better. This zoo of people hidden in plain sight at this warehouse, or Gregorio himself. He is literally the center of attention with his desk in the center of the floor. I’m led to him by a twiggy secretary who also turns me side to side, displaying my body.

“Uh yes, hi, hello. I’m Annabelle.”

“Yes, I know, we will fix that, don’t worry,” Gregorio said.

“What’s wrong with my name,” I asked.

The secretary and Gregorio look at each other with a knowing glance and I feel quite small. The secretary walks off to get something and I find the closest chair next to me.

“I have heard of you, but you have never heard of me. That is how it should be,” Gregorio said. “I make stars. I like to think I’m more powerful than them.”

“How can you be powerful if not everyone knows you?”

“Power comes in many forms love. I will teach you. First, tell me about yourself.”

“My name is Annabelle Lee. I’m from Edelweiss and I like to sing. I really like pancakes…”

Gregorio inspects me the way Cashmere does. Looking at my hair, face, and nails.

“You tried the direct route to singing and it didn’t work I’m assuming?”

“Yes! How’d you know?”

“Most singers don’t start as singers. Always something else. Choose your something else right now.”

“I, I don’t know-“

“Fine, I pick. Model.”

“Wait. No, I want more time!”

Gregorio points at a feminine man in a skirt and yells at him in a different language. The man dashes off and comes back with a rack of clothes. From Gregorio’s desk he opens a toolbox and takes out a measuring tape.

“Moment of truth,” he says.

He measured my waist, raised his eyebrows, and said nothing.

“What’s wrong,” I ask.

“Nothing.”

I feel like something is wrong. I plead with my eyes, and he finally tells me.

“Clothes are wrong. If you love yourself, then love your clothes,” Gregorio says.

Gregorio talks to me while rapidly looking through the clothes rack, pausing at a few, and then moving on.

“What’s your favorite color,” he barks.

“Uh, Huh. Uh.”

“COLOR!”

I’m panicking.

“Pink,” I shout.

He touches a piece of clothing, pauses, and looks at me.

“How old are you again?”

“Twenty.”

“You are no longer Annabelle. You are now Rose. Congratulations!”

“What did my age have to do with this,” I ask.

“If you were twenty-one then your name would be Lush. Sex sells.”

My skin crawls at the matter-of-fact way he says it. Gregorio passes some clothes to the man next to him, and once he finds his choices passable, he turns to me.

“Who did your hair,” he asks.

“My friend! I am so sorry!”

“You fabulous,” the assistant says.

“Yes, it’s nice, have her come here some time,” Gregorio coos.

I learned that I have been doing everything wrong from my name to my clothes so this is a nice change of approval. Gregorio passes me a dress and commands me to try it on.

“Okay, where’s the dressing room?”

“Somewhere, just change here,” Gregorio says.

“Oh, my stars you can’t be serious.”

Gregorio and his assistant again give each other the look.

“You have no previous experience in modeling,” Gregorio asks.

“None.”

“Acting?”

“I was in a school play once.”

Gregorio and the assistant started saying something to each other again in another language, some of the words sounding very angry. The more they spoke, the more I started to believe I understood what they were saying from facial expressions alone.

“Antonio said I give you a chance, so I give you a chance,” Gregorio sighs. “The things you do for love.”

“Love? You two?”

“Yes, he is my husband, isn’t it obvious,” Gregorio scoffs.

I do not mention that I thought his husband was his assistant instead of business partner. I don’t want to ruin this chance. I changed into the dress given to me, in front of all these people.

None of them seem to care, and out of the corner of my eye I notice someone else is changing too. That calms me down a little and I don’t feel as shy anymore.

Gregorio and Antonio circle me, like hawks, trying to find more weaknesses.

“Stand up straighter, tilt your chin up! You are pretty! Act like it,” Gregorio commands.

I do as he says but I don’t know if I feel any prettier.

“Go with Antonio. He will finish.”

After twenty minutes of having my hair fixed and face done, I’m put in front of a camera. I feel so tired and I think I’ve only been in the building for an hour.

“Smile,” Antonio says. “Everyone look nice with smile.”

I smile but it’s not genuine.

Antonio stops the photographer and comes to me. He is nothing like his husband, with his softer voice and kindness. His English isn’t as good, but I still understand what he means.

“Dream in here,” Antonio says, pointing at my heart.

“Put here,” Antonio says, now pointing outside, at the window.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I give my heart to the world when I smile for my first headshot.

I feel prettier once I see them.

I get my first callbacks once I start using them.