Hugo glared at his reflection like it had just slapped him and stolen his lunch money.
The outfit they had forced him into? A cri against fashion.
Scratch that. A cri against humanity.
It was a designer suit, yeah, but there was a serious problem.
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It was too damn tight!
Not just in the way that made him look like a fashionable bad boy, no.
It was tight in all the wrong places.
It was tight in the "I can't breathe, my organs are shifting, and my future children might be in danger" way.
The pants? Hugged his legs like a clingy ex, and sohow, his thighs felt handcuffed together.
The shirt? Unbuttoned way too low, showing off his chest in a way that scread, "Welco to my nightclub, ladies."
The jacket? Stylish, yes. But the sleeves?
Too short.
Like, "Did I steal this off a middle schooler?" short.
Hugo sighed so hard, he almost deflated.
He looked himself up and down again and furrowed his brows even more.
"…I look like a male escort."
A really expensive one. But still.
He ran a hand through his freshly cut hair, his soul already tired.
Then he groaned.
His outfit was the least of his worries. The thing was...
"I have never modeled before in my life," he muttered. "I'm gonna embarrass myself so bad out there."
What did he know about poses, angles, exposure, embodint?
Nothing!
But then?
But then, his brain did what it always did best. His brain flipped a switch. A crucial switch.
One that reminded him of sothing very, VERY important.
He didn't even want to be here! He was FORCED into this!
So technically…
If he sucked?
That was THEIR problem!
Embarrass himself? Who cared?
They dragged him into this, so if he sucked, that was on them.
In fact… maybe he should intentionally be the worst model they had ever seen. Just to teach them a lesson that no ans no!
Hugo smirked evilly.
Evil plan activated.
But before he could fully commit to his new self sabotage plan, a loud knock sounded at the dressing room door.
"Hugo! Hurry up!" Sanchez's voice was a mixture of impatience, excitent and pure evil.
With one final dramatic sigh, he stepped out.
The mont he did, Sanchez and the bald man snapped their heads toward him and their eyes glead.
Then, in perfect sync, they both let out a long, impressed whistle, followed by a shake of the head.
"Magnificent," the bald man whispered, eyes practically shining.
"This is exactly what we needed," Sanchez grinned.
Hugo narrowed his eyes. He took a step back and widened the distance.
…Why did this feel like he was being recruited for sothing illegal?
But seeing their excitent and trust in him, he couldn't help but want to actually satisfy them a little. No more evil plan...
"Okay, listen," he started, raising a hand. "I just want to say that I have never modeled before, alright? So maybe we should go over the b—"
"PERFECT!" the bald man suddenly shouted, clapping his hands like a deranged seal.
"Wait, what—"
"To the booth!"
Before Hugo could even blink, two workers grabbed his arms and dragged him toward the giant photoshoot setup.
"HEY! WAIT! I was saying I CAN'T—"
"Nonsense! Modeling is in your soul!" the bald man declared joyfully. "We begin now! Strike a series of rapid poses!"
Hugo's brain short circuited.
"…The WHAT now?"
Sanchez clapped him on the back. "They're called rapid fire poses, Hugo. Just switch poses every second, don't overthink it."
Hugo stared at him.
Don't overthink it?!
He didn't even know ONE pose, let alone multiple poses at high speed!
"Wait, I really think I should—"
"Three… two… one…"
"WAIT, HOLD ON—"
"GO!"
CLICK. FLASH.
Hugo panicked.
His body moved on pure survival instinct.
And by "instinct," he ant his brain completely betrayed him.
What did he do first?
He threw both hands behind his head and gave a smoldering look…
There was the intensity of fire in his eyes...
Like he was an ancient Greek statue advertising expensive yogurt.
CLICK. FLASH.
Then, without thinking, he flexed his right arm…
His eyes dimd and narrowed to a slit...
Like he was a 1980s bodybuilder auditioning for a muscle oil comrcial.
CLICK. FLASH.
Next, he lifted one knee and pointed dramatically at the ceiling…
His nostrils flared and his brows soared...
Like he was about to do a superhero landing in a protein shake ad.
CLICK. FLASH.
At this point?
The energy in the room shifted.
The bald man's excitent started fading and his voice began to drop.
The workers, who had been bustling around, adjusting lights and caras, gradually stopped moving.
But Hugo?
Oh, he didn't notice. He was already in his elent.
Because next?
He spread his legs apart, puffed out his chest, and put his hands on his hips…
His lips curled into a small, mischievous smirk...
Like he was a villain in a low budget Power Rangers episode.
CLICK. FLASH.
A long silence followed.
One of the workers whispered to another.
"…What is he doing?"
"I—I don't know."
anwhile, Hugo was sweating bullets internally.
Oh my god.
He was dying.
He had TOLD THEM!
He had WARNED THEM!
And now, look.
LOOK AT THIS DISASTER!
Before Hugo could fully process his own humiliation, the bald man suddenly let out a deep sigh.
Then, dramatically, he removed his glasses and rubbed his temples. He seed to have a aged a couple of decades on the spot.
"Hugo."
Hugo swallowed nervously. "Uh. Yeah?"
The bald man stared at him.
Then, in a voice so disappointed it could have killed a puppy, he whispered:
"…What the hell was that?"
Silence.
Dead silence.
Even Sanchez, Hugo's supposed "buddy," was holding back laughter.
At that mont, Hugo realized one thing.
…
He had FAILED.
_____
Power stone Goal!
50 PS - 1 Bonus chapter
100 PS - 2 Bonus chapter
200 PS (Quite an achievent as of now) - 3 Bonus chapters.
Castle - 20 Bonus Chapters!
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