The set for the perfume ad was immaculate, the kind of glamorous, high-end production that made my skin itch. Everything sparkled polished marble floors, gilded mirrors, and chandeliers dripping with crystals.
It was as if they'd imported a piece of Versailles just to sell a scent that would undoubtedly cost more than a month's rent for most people.
At first, I'd wanted to refuse. Commercial shoots weren't my thing, especially ones where the product wasn't clothing. Perfume ads, in particular, required a certain air of mystique, an effortless seduction I didn't exactly feel comfortable channeling on command.
But Layla...
Layla had insisted.
"You'd look so hot and cool," she'd said, her eyes lighting up with that mischievous glint I couldn't resist.
"Hot and cool don't go together," I'd muttered, arms crossed.
"They do if you're Zaya," she'd shot back, her grin widening. "Come on, just this once. For me?"
