Daddy’s Rules by Kelly Myers

4

Nick

As the plane levels off and begins the quick trip from LAX to Las Vegas’ McCarran Airport, I sit back in my seat and decide to research the new model I’m going to shoot. What the hell is her name? Sienna? No. Sierra? No.

Savannah.Yeah, that’s it.

All these Millennial names sound the same, I think, as I type Savannah Hart into the search engine and a bunch of pictures pop up. I click on one and study her. She’s young and gorgeous with long, blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but it’s more than that. She knows how to work the camera to show off her best angles and features.

I tilt my head and scroll through more pictures. Damn. She’s got that certain, intangible quality that’s going to make her a star. I can recognize it a mile away. And, I’m going to launch her career, I think.

Hmm, my mind goes into creative mode and I start imagining the different shots I’m going to take. That face of hers is everything I love to work with-- so malleable. In some of these pictures, she looks like a sexy temptress while in others she looks like an innocent virgin.

For the Guess shoot this weekend, we are going to the Neon Boneyard where defunct signs from old casinos and other businesses go to die. Iconic signage from the Stardust, Riviera and The Sands sit outside, baking in the sun, and we get to play with it all. A million ideas begin to bounce around in my head about how I can shoot this beauty in such a glamorously tragic setting.

I zoom in on her expressive blue eyes. There’s no discernable expression on her face in the picture I’m looking at, yet her eyes convey a story. It’s not some stupid, half-squint that Tyra Banks calls “smizing.” It’s a deep emotion that connects the viewer to her. The girl drips with raw talent and I can’t wait to pull it all out of her. Push her to get the most amazing shots of her career. And, hell, probably even mine.

I feel better knowing that I have some promising talent to work with and pull up a personal story that some Ohio paper featured on her. Probably her hometown, I think, and scan down the article. “My real dream is to become a vet in a few years. I plan to save the money I make modeling and use that to put myself through school and open up my own practice.”

Interesting,I think. Sounds like she may have half a brain in her head. Or, that’s just the story her publicist made up for her. Nowadays, who the hell really knows? It’s all about creating an image for the public to consume and adore. Now, with social media, the goal is to get millions of followers.

I do not have any type of social media account and I never will. It’s a complete waste of time.

All I care about is following my rules. And, when I’m working with a gorgeous model, my most important rule is professionalism and absolutely no fraternizing with the talent. As a photographer, I’ve never crossed that line. The sleazy stories of a photographer coming on to a model are all too familiar.

I am no one’s stereotype. Not anymore.

Back when I modeled, it was probably even worse than today. Everyone hooked up with everyone. I’m not going to pretend I was innocent and didn’t take part in the shenanigans because I did. But, I’ve done some growing up since then and have had my share of enough beautiful women to realize something.

They’re all the same. Purely ornamental. Worthless baubles. A swimming pool with no water.

That may sound harsh, but it’s been my experience. So, the fact that I see a spark of life in this girl’s eyes makes me stand up and take notice. For the first time in a long time, I’m excited to shoot a model. My normally jaded outlook evaporates and I scroll through one amazing shot after another of her.

When we land in Las Vegas 45 minutes later, I step off the plane and roll my carry-on behind me. We’re booked at The Cosmopolitan and it’s a quick drive to the chic hotel over on The Strip. Las Vegas is an interesting place to visit, but after a few days, I’m usually ready to get the hell out of here. However, I don’t feel any rush on this trip. I plan to work hard and enjoy it. And, if things go well, maybe I’ll take Deirdre up on her offer and spend an extra day lounging by the pool.

As I check into the 5-star luxury hotel, it’s nice to not be the one footing the bill. My smoking credit card can stay in my wallet for once. I get my key and find the elevator bank to the tower that leads to my room thirty floors up.

I like the modern and sleek feel of the hotel and my room is no exception. It’s stylish and whimsical which is exactly how I’m planning this photoshoot to be. I let go of the handle on my luggage, walk over and slide the balcony door open. I have a view of The Bellagio’s fountains and it’s stunning.

I glance down at my watch and it’s already 4pm so I dig my phone out of my pocket and call my agent. “Hey, Deirdre, it’s Nick. I’m here.”

“How was the flight? Is the room okay?”

“All good.”

“Okay, perfect. I emailed you the call sheet and Sienna will meet you at the restaurant tonight at 6pm for a little meet and greet.”

“Savannah,” I correct her.

“Oh, right. If you have any questions just give me a call.”

“Sure thing, Deirdre. Thanks.”

We say goodbye and I disconnect the call. I have two hours until I have to go down and meet Savannah so I grab my notebook, a pen and sit out on the balcony. I prop my long legs on a table, cross my ankles and start jotting down all of the ideas I have for tomorrow’s first day at the Neon Boneyard.

Next door, The Bellagio’s fountain show begins and I pause as music fills the air and water gushes into the sky. I’ve always enjoyed it and I’m glad my room faces this direction. A crowd gathers around and I decide to get out of my room and wander around until I have to meet Savannah.

On my way out, I grab my camera. My favorite thing about Vegas is the people-watching. You get every kind here and the photo ops are always there. I probably look like a tourist as I wander around the hotel and snap pictures. The colors, the textures and the inventive details of the decor are inspiring and I get so many cool shots.

I love the floor-to-ceiling chandeliers over the bars and move around the area getting some interesting pictures. The time flies and, before I realize it, I have about half an hour until our meeting. I decide to head over early and get a drink at the bar. The reservation is at Beauty & Essex and I’m not sure what to expect when I walk through the faux pawn shop storefront.

But, inside, it doesn't disappoint. The place has an upscale speakeasy vibe to it and I sit down at the bar and order a Jack on the rocks.

And then I wait. I hope Savannah has a personality to match her talent. So many of the models I’ve worked with just rely on their looks and trying to have a conversation with them is like pulling teeth.

I have zero expectations. To be honest, I just need to showcase that innate talent she possesses and get the job done. If she isn’t a witty conversationalist, which I’m guessing she’s not, it’s fine.

After all, it’s just two days of work.

It’s not like I’m planning to spend the rest of my life with her.