Chương 11: 'Gale Sebastian'
Tristan's eyes were closed as the make-up artist did his eyeshadow. He was poking the arm of his chair while sitting steadily. They were preparing him for a commercial shoot.
"After this, you have a meeting with the CEO of Kyla Scent and at 6:00 pm, you have dinner with Mrs. Alva. She's one of Fuenta Glamouroza's biggest shareholders, so we shouldn't be late. It's embarrassing," Whifler informed while flipping a folder.
Tristan just sighed.
'This is exhausting', he thought.
"All done, Ms. Trish," the make-up artist said, then smiled.
Tristan just smiled back at her and stood up.
He was wearing a skin tone, spaghetti-strap full backless dress which fitted perfectly in his body.
Tristan glanced at Whifler, then paused as he noticed Whifler's intense stare at his crotch.
Tristan confusedly looked at him and raised his right brow.
"If we didn't know each other, I would've thought of you as a pervert just now," Tristan said while his arms were crossed.
Whifler flinched. He immediately averted his eyes and coughed, then scratched his temple using his index finger.
'Damn that Tanya. She infected me with her stupid curiosity!'
"Don't tell me you're staring at my sister with that lewd gaze of yours?" Tristan coarsely asked.
Whifler's eyes widened and his head jolted to look at Tristan.
"I never did!"
"Oh, really?"
"I swear! It's just that. Uh. Well, Tanya was just worried about your.. Uhm... You know. If you're uncomfortable with it."
"Uncomfortable with what?"
"Ah. That."
Tristan's brows furrowed. "What?"
"That!!"
Tristan stared at him unamusedly.
"Are you using Tanya as a getaway?"
"No! I mean. Hiding your thing to make it obscured, especially when you're wearing some fit and short dresses and skirts." Whifler explained, clearing the misinterpretation.
Tristan just blankly stared at him, as if he was reading Whifler's expressions.
"Oh, yeah. At first, it was uncomfortable but, I got used to it."
Whifler nodded. "Ah. Good".
He flinched when Tristan's words sank in. He then smiled at Tristan.
"Wait. Are you worried that I'll do nasty stuff to your sister?"
"Of co—ahem!" Tristan was taken aback and averted his eyes after realizing what Whifler asked.
"A-ahm. The shoot! The shoot will start soon!" he said then quickly left. Whifler just chuckled at his reaction.
'You behaved so coldly towards Trish but, deep inside, you're still caring for her. huh', he thought.
"Oh, ghad! Did you put all the rocks of the road in this bag to be this heavy!?" Tanya complained to Whifler as she came.
She was barely walking with a big black bag, carried in her both hands. She flopped to a long chair and tiredly spread her arms and rested her feet on top of the table in front of her.
"Hahh~~ Heavens!" She bubbled then looked at Whifler.
"Oh! Manager Whifler. The b—"
"Don't talk to me you imbecile brat!" Whifler reamed her out, then left.
Tanya's jaw was hung and dumbfoundedly stared at the space where Whifler was formerly stood.
"Huh? What's wrong with him? Did I do something?" She confusedly mumbled.
"Psh! Is he on the rag?! Why took his anger out on me? Aissst! That irascible idiot!" She irritatedly murmured, then started punching the air.
.
.
.
"Okay. Great!"
"Yes. Yes. That!"
"Mhmm. Perfect!"
"Okay! That's enough. Let's have a break!"
Tristan was relieved and sighed after what the producer said. They were shooting for almost two hours and now they were finally taking a break.
He exhaustedly walked towards his assigned dressing room. But, he was stopped by a woman—who was just his age—before he could reach the room.
She was wearing a golden-brown, ruffle-sleeve top and a high-waist, bright yellow short. Her hair was blonde and the tip was dyed pink. Judging her, she was certainly a model. Fair complexion, has the average height for a model and her physique was quite petite.
"Well. Well. It's nice to see you again, your highness," the woman greeted, sarcasm obvious from her tone.
"I heard you vexed the crew of your yesterday's shoot. Woahh. That's so unexpected from a deity like you. What? has your mask of perfection expired, huh?"
Tristan got annoyed at her mockery grin while expressing those words at him. He looked straight in her almond eyes, then raised his right brow.
"I'm sorry but, who are you?"
The woman was stunned at Tristan's question. "Excuse me? What did you say?"
"Are you deaf?" he sarcastically asked. The woman was taken aback by his words.
"Don't pretend like you didn't know me," She exasperatedly chuckled.
"Why would I pretend? Should I know you?"
"Don't be so full of yourself, Trish!" she sneered with that ballistic gaze that had been digging a hole in Tristan's face.
"I—"
"Trish!" Tristan snapped his head to look in Whifler's direction. He was walking towards them.
"Tanya prepared some Iced Tea. Let's go," Whifler said while coldly staring at the woman.
"Do you need anything else, Ms. Gale?" Whifler gently but coarsely asked her.
She glared at them, then annoyedly stepped back and left.
"I told you not to have a conversation with anyone without me!" Whifler scolded.
"She approached me first! I didn't expect it."
"What did you two talk about?"
"Nothing much actually, but she obviously hated me. I think I pissed her off when I asked who she was. By the way, who is she really?"
"She's also a model of your company, Gale Sebastian," Whifler answered, then started to walk.
Tristan followed him while seriously listening to him.
"Don't pay any attention to her. Just let her taunt to her heart's content."
Whifler said then he sat down on one of the chairs in the dressing room as they arrived. He then picked a cup of Iced Tea and drank it.
"Does she always pick a fight with Trish?" Tristan asked, sipping his cup of Iced Tea as well.
"Yes, but Trish always ignores her. You should too. Don't be tricked. She will deliberately provoke you."
"Well. Depending on my mood," Tristan playfully said, then took another sip of his drink.
"You— Aist. I'm starting to think I was dealing with a woman with that attitude," Whifler frustratedly massaged his forehead.
"Ohh! Maybe you're supposed to be a woman, but mistakenly born as a man!" Tanya gleefully butted in.
Tristan just raised his brow while Whifler threw his empty cup at her.
"Is that supposed to be a joke or something?" Tristan ridiculed.
Tanya just clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes at them.
"These unruly bastards!" she mumbled, then picked up the cup and threw it into the trash can.
"Ms. Trish. We're about to shoot now," one of the staff said as she popped up to the door.
"Yes, I'll be there soon. Thank you," Tristan responded, then fixed himself.
"Don't cause any trouble!" Whifler reminded him.
"Yea! Yea! I will surely cause one," Tristan flung back, then left.
"What the. Hahh~~ That rascal was really hopeless!" Whifler groaned.
"Well, you both were! Tsk." Tanya mumbled irritatedly.
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