章 7: First Test?
"Good morning, Madame Sharrie, Madame Lauren," Whifler greeted, as he addressed Trish and Tristan's mother and grandmother upon their return from a business trip.
"Good morning," Mrs. Lauren Fuentavilla greeted back, their grandmother.
She had a look that made it hard to believe she was over 60 years old. Her eyes were as black as her thick shoulder-length hair. Her style was literally unmatched for her age. She looked too young for her age, to be exact.
"Good morning, Whifler. How was Tristan's preparation?" Mrs. Sharrie Fuentavilla asked as she sat on a single couch in the lobby. Mrs. Lauren also sat across from her.
"I hope this whole week was enough," she added.
"He's doing great, and yes, it was quite enough for us, Ma'am. He's ready," Whifler answered confidently.
"That's good then. Where is he?"
"Tanya is fixing him right now." Whifler paused when he saw Tanya come out from Tristan's room. "Oh, I guess they're done."
They all looked at Tristan's room on the second floor as its door opened widely. He came out of the room like a lovely and magnificent young lady.
Tristan descended with perfect poise on the right side of the mansion's bifurcated stairs. He seemed as if he were naturally born a girl.
He wore an elegant strapless silver fitted dress paired with four-inch off-white high-block heels with silver ankle straps.
He also wore an extravagant set of diamond jewelry and carried a shiny, pure white wallet bag adorned with a clear crystal design at the center, complementing his overall look. His hair was stylishly curled and clipped on one side.
He stopped in front of them and fiercely looked at them.
"Fabulous! I know you already looked like her, but I couldn't imagine you could be this better. You look so gorgeous. If you are both standing there right now, I can't definitely tell which is which. Good job, Tristan," Mrs. Lauren Fuentavilla said in amusement.
"Impressive. You exceeded my expectations, son," Mrs. Sharrie complimented. Tristan was really pleased with the positive comments his family gave him.
"You also did a great job, Whifler," Mrs. Sharrie Fuentavilla said.
"Thank you, ma'am." Whifler smiled.
They all looked at the guard when he came with a girl. She was just Whifler's age. She wore a formal and elegant avocado green-colored long-sleeved dress paired with baby-yellow five-inch, peep-toe stiletto heels, and a chain bag of the same color. Her chocolate-brown hair was tied at the right side of her face and was braided up to the tip.
"She's looking for Mr. Whifler," the guard said.
"Good morning," the girl greeted, then she bowed and smiled.
"Oh, yes!" Whifler said, then came closer to her. "Uhm. She is my friend, Annie Clarisse Morris. She will be Tristan's mentor in modeling, endorsing, and other necessary stuff."
"Is she reliable? This is a private affair of the family," Mrs. Lauren Fuentavilla said to Whifler apprehensively yet fiercely.
"Excuse me, Madame," Annie politely interrupted, smiling. "I understand your concern, but I assure you of my professionalism. I can handle confidential matters."
"Well. That's great then. I hope you're not just words," Mrs. Lauren said.
"She is reliable, Ma'am. I've known her for a long time," Whifler defended.
"Alright, I'll trust you for now," Mrs. Lauren said, with a doubt seen on her face.
"If you'll excuse us," Whifler said and bowed, waiting for their permission.
"Go on. Don't waste time," Sharrie permitted.
Tristan followed Annie and Whifler. They went to one of the mansion's rooms, which was more like a studio.
"Modeling? Endorsing?" Tristan whispered to Whifler. "I thought today was my rest day. You heard their comments, right?"
"I said after 9," Whifler answered, still looking ahead, examining the room to assure its suitability.
"Yes, 9. It's past 9 am already," Tristan replied.
Whifler looked in his direction with his usual strict expression on his face. "9:00 pm. At night, Tristan."
Tristan was taken aback and blinked many times before Whifler's words sank in. "Are you kidding me?"
"Do I sound like I'm joking?"
"Don't I deserve some rest after continuous working for a week?"
"Of course, if you complete this task." Whifler smiled mischievously, then he left Tristan to start arranging the room.
"Trish needs rest!" Tristan said in protest. But, Whifler just ignored him. "Hey. Trish needs rest."
"Yes. She needs rest," Whifler replied without looking in his direction.
Tristan walked closer to Whifler and stepped in front of him. "I am Trish, right?"
"Trish is a model, an endorser, a celebrity, ambassador... Can you do them all?"
Tristan was silenced.
"See? You're not Trish yet. Now, work." Whifler replied, continuing what he was doing.
Tristan could do nothing but walk towards Tanya to be fixed. "Even machines have rest," he mumbled underneath his breath. But, no matter how tired he was, he must endure.
Annie just chuckled after observing the two and came closer to Whifler. "You two seem to get along very well."
Whifler's brows furrowed and looked at her with his judgmental gaze. "Absolutely not. Are you going blind?"
"Yep. Maybe," she mumbled, not wanting to argue anymore. She knew Whifler very well. Starting an argument against him was the best decision to avoid. "Okay! Let's start!"
Annie made Tristan study different poses and angles, then tried them all himself. Whifler was holding the camera and acting as a photographer. They were as if in a photoshoot.
"Great. The camera loves you," Annie said.
"You're a good and fast learner," she added after they finished their activities.
"Thank you," Tristan wearily responded. "Are we done?"
"Not yet."
"Still not?" Tristan sighed.
"But, I did all the poses already? My photos were also good and we've been doing this for hours. What else is missing?" He whispered to himself while trying to compose himself.
"Here." Annie gave a piece of crumpled paper to Tristan.
Tristan's forehead knitted when he got the paper. "What's this for?"
"Do some endorsement. Persuade me to buy that thing."
"Eh?" Tristan confusedly looked at the paper. "Who will be persuaded to buy this trash?"
"That's what I needed you to do. Make that trash valuable to my eyes. If you can persuade me, I'll pay you a rest." Annie sat on the chair that was given to them earlier. "Go on."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes," Annie smirked and gave Tristan a challenging look. "Why? You can't do it?"
"No! I can do it. I'm just thinking!" Tristan said in a panic. That rest was the highlight of his day. He needed that kind of payment more than anything right now.
He stared at the paper and took a deep breath. Then, "Hey, everyone! This crumpled paper is usable! It can shine on everyone's life! So, what are you waiting for? Buy it now!" Tristan confidently said while emphasizing the paper in his hand with a wide smile plastered on his face.
Annie was stupefied, and her jaw hung a bit. Whifler also turned his gaze away in awkwardness and embarrassment at what Tristan did.
"What crap are you giving me?" Annie asked scornfully. Her expectation dropped to the Earth's core.
"I... I persuaded you to buy... This." Tristan responded in a low tone, confused at their reactions.
"Is that how you persuade me? Seriously?"
"Why? What's wrong?" Tristan was confused.
Annie stood up and slowly walked back and forth in front of Tristan while her arms were crossed.
"Endorsing is not just about the influence you have. Of course, those people who admire and are loyal to you will support and be persuaded. But, what about those who don't?"
Annie held Tristan's arms. "Charm and convincing aura are the keys. It's not just the words that can be persuasive. It's also the way you connect yourself to the audience. You could make garbage valuable, the ugly beautiful, the trash usable. Your fans or not will be convinced."
Annie went back to her chair and looked straight at Tristan, who was now seriously staring at the paper.
"Your gaze, your gestures, emotions, voice, words, and expressions. Make your whole existence convincing. Try it again." Annie said. Tristan took a deep breath, then he started once again.
"He's improving." Whifler was startled at Tanya.
"Yeah," Whifler responded while looking at Tristan, earnestly doing his best. He was really trying hard to meet Annie's expectations.
"Anyway, Ms. Trish wanted to see you and Tristan after." Whifler was puzzled at what Tanya said.
'What is it about now?' he thought.
The Next Morning...
"I apologize. I didn't show up here yesterday. I slept as soon as we finished," Tristan coldly explained to Trish.
It was exactly 8:36 in the morning. Trish was sitting on her bed, Whifler was sitting on the chair beside her, and Tristan across from them.
"It's fine. I understand you were tired. Uhm, so... How's your training?" Trish nervously asked Tristan while her eyes were looking at her fidgeting thumbs.
"Good. Is that what I came here for?"
"Ah n-no. Uh, you know Summer Ricks, right?"
"If you're talking about that famous actress, yes. Why?"
"She's actually my only closest friend. And she just came back from a shoot abroad," Trish answered, still fidgeting with her thumbs.
"Mhm. What about her?" Tristan asked.
"Usually, Trish and I will pick her up at the airport every time she comes back from traveling. Then they'll spend their whole day together. Trish frees her schedule for her arrival," Whifler explained, interrupting their conversation as he noticed Trish's anxiousness.
"So, you're saying I'll pick her up?"
"Yes. And this will be counted as your first test," Whifler said, which puzzled Tristan even more.
"You see, we've known each other for a long time. And aside from Whifler and Tanya, Summer's the only person who knows everything about me that others don't. So, if you can fool her, you can fool everyone. If she'll be convinced you are me, nobody will suspect you," Trish said seriously.
"When will I pick her up then?"
"Around 9:00 am," Whifler answered, which caused Tristan's eyes to widen.
"WHAT?! Why didn't you tell me sooner!" He lashed, then checked the time. "It's already 8:42!!"
"Why blame me? Trish called you out yesterday, didn't she? And I woke you up earlier, but your lazy head didn't listen. So, who should be blamed here?" Whifler coarsely said.
"Aist!!" Tristan frustratedly mumbled, then went out of the room and headed to his room.
"You handle him well," Trish said to Whifler.
"Mhmm. I'm starting to get used to him." Whifler smiled.
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