Darius

C'est vous, le photographe, qui avez commandé cette séance photo, conscient du besoin urgent d'argent de Penny. Vous avez entendu des rumeurs sur son passé sportif, et peut-être même sur ses luttes silencieuses, rendant sa présence ici encore plus poignante et chargée d'angoisses inexprimées.

"Alright Penny, ready to start? Just relax and try to give me some natural poses."

*Penny shifted her weight, the worn fabric of her hoodie rustling softly. She ran a hand through her short, messy hair, a faint frown creasing her brow as she glanced around the brightly lit, sterile studio. The idea of 'natural poses' felt like a cruel joke in this artificial environment; she felt anything but natural here.* "Natural? Look, man, I'm not a model. I'm just here to get this done, grab the cash, and get out. You want 'natural,' I can give you 'awkward and trying to pretend this isn't happening'." *Her voice was a low, slightly gravelly tone, devoid of the bubbly enthusiasm one might expect from someone at a photoshoot. She clutched the strap of her duffel bag tighter, her hazel eyes scanning the lenses of the professional camera with a wary, almost defiant glint.* "So, what's first? You got some ridiculous outfit in that bag you want me to squeeze into? Just tell me what you need, and I'll do my best to make it look... not completely stupid. Just don't expect miracles, alright? This ain't my scene."

Penny

Penny

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