Chapter 1: I Thought This Was an Interview for Free Food

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Riri Moreno had three priorities in life.

Get rich.

Stay cute.

Avoid using her brain unless absolutely necessary.

Thinking? Hard.

Saving money? Harder.

Saying no to a snack she didn’t have to pay for? Impossible.

So when her friend Dani texted her, “Babe there’s a gig that pays $$$ and it’s fashion or whatever”, Riri didn’t ask questions. She didn’t even check what kind of job it was. She just showed up.

Money was money.

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The building looked expensive. It had plants that were probably named, glass doors that opened on their own, and everyone inside smelled like they had good credit.

Riri walked in, head held high in her knock-off YSL bucket hat and sparkly pink jelly shoes. Her outfit was a pink zip-up hoodie over a lacy bralette, denim shorts two sizes too small, and a purse shaped like a strawberry.

She looked like a cartoon character who accidentally wandered into Vogue.

The receptionist looked up. Blinked.

“Uh… hi?” the woman said.

“I’m here for the thing,” Riri announced cheerfully.

“The… thing?”

“The job thing. The fashiony—modely—or maybe not modely? Whatever pays.”

The receptionist blinked again.

Riri leaned in conspiratorially. “Dani sent me. She has big lashes. Always posts those thirst traps with vegan muffins. She said there’s free coffee?”

The woman’s mouth twitched. “You must be here for Theo’s casting.”

“Sure! Is there air conditioning in there?”

“Studio 3. Just follow the white hall. And—good luck.”

Riri beamed. “Thanks, queen!”

She skipped down the hallway, humming a song she made up on the spot. It was called “Pay Me or Don’t Talk to Me.” Soon to be a hit, obviously.

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Studio 3 was… intimidating.

It had giant lights, racks of weirdly shaped clothes, and a camera the size of her torso. There were people with cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass. Everyone looked like they knew what “contour” meant.

In the middle of it all was a man.

Tall. Dressed in black. Very serious.

And kind of hot in a “brooding vampire who listens to jazz” way.

He was fiddling with his camera when she entered, not even glancing up.

“You’re late,” he said.

Riri froze. “Wait—am I?”

“Yes.”

“Oh no. Did I miss the snacks?”

Now he looked up.

Slowly.

And when his eyes met hers, something shifted. His brow furrowed slightly, like she was a math problem that didn’t add up.

“Name?” he asked.

“Riri. Full name’s Riri Moreno. Or Ri-Ri. Or CashAppIfYouLoveMe.”

“…Right.”

He looked her over. Head to toe. Then back to toe again.

She smiled. “I like your face. You have murder-y eyes. Very elegant.”

He blinked. “Thank you?”

“So what’s this gig? Do I hand out flyers? Walk in heels? Yell at people for wearing beige?”

“You’re here to model,” he said flatly.

“Oh. Ew, really?” She tilted her head. “Like, model model?”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t even know how to smize or whatever. Also, I can’t walk in heels unless I’m holding someone’s arm. Preferably a hot man. With snacks.”

He took a breath. “This isn’t a runway job. I’m doing a photo series. It’s called Unfiltered.”

“Oooh, like water!”

“…Sure.”

He gestured to the lighted area in the center. “Stand there.”

Riri skipped over without question.

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just… be.”

“Oh, perfect. That’s my specialty.”

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Theo didn’t know what to make of her.

He’d photographed royalty. Celebrities. Models who could hold a pose for ten minutes without blinking.

But this girl?

This girl had walked in with a purse shaped like produce, complimented his “murder-y eyes,” and was now staring directly into the camera with zero concept of fear.

She didn’t even pose. She just stood there, blinking occasionally, like a confused cartoon deer.

He raised the lens.

“Don’t smile.”

“Oops.”

Click.

“Stop tilting your head.”

“I can’t help it, it’s how I flirt with ATMs.”

Click.

“Don’t move.”

“I haven’t moved in five years.”

Click. Click.

Her expression didn’t change. But her energy did.

There was something unpolished about her. Untouched by the rules of the industry. She didn’t try to look sexy. Didn’t try to look graceful. She just was.

Theo stared through the lens and realized something terrifying.

She had no idea how magnetic she was.

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After a few minutes, Riri tilted her head again. “Is this where I say something deep, like… ‘I’m not doing this for fame, I’m doing it for the art’?”

“No.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

Click.

She pointed at one of the outfits hanging nearby. “Is that a dress or a parachute?”

He didn’t answer. Just kept shooting.

“Do I get to keep anything? I like free stuff. It makes me feel like I’ve achieved something emotionally.”

Still no answer.

Riri pouted. “You’re very quiet, you know that?”

“I’m working.”

“Can I call you Mr. Photographer? Or is that weirdly flirty?”

“…Yes.”

“To which one?”

“Yes.”

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Fifteen minutes later, he finally lowered the camera.

“You’re done.”

Riri blinked. “Oh. That’s it? Did I win?”

“This isn’t a contest.”

“Well it should be. I think I’d be great at competitions where the prize is cash and the challenge is being adorable.”

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Airheaded. Effortless. Distractingly… bright.”

Riri smiled proudly. “Yes!”

He stared at her for a long moment.

Then said, “Come back tomorrow.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Do I get paid?”

“Yes.”

“Is it cash or transfer?”

“Both.”

Riri gasped. “You’re my favorite stranger.”

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As she bounced out of the studio, Theo looked down at his camera screen.

There she was — pink, sweet, and totally unaware.

Every frame of her radiated something he hadn’t seen in years.

Not polish. Not professionalism.

Presence.

Unfiltered. Undiluted.

Real.

He was completely, utterly screwed.

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The end of Chapter 1