How could she have been so stupid? What would happen if her boyfriend found out? Would he leave her? Would her parents and friends see them? Would her boss? The questions raced through her mind as she lay prone in bed, reliving the real nightmare of the night before.
She had gone out drinking with a few friends. Nothing too hectic. Just a casual dinner with the girls followed by a drink or two. Had he drugged her? Had someone put something in her drink? She knew that she had consumed plenty. It was all too voluntary. She had wanted the intoxication and had happily let sobriety slip away. She could only blame herself.
She had already been tipsy when he had approached her. An older bald gentleman of European descent. His accent had aroused her. His introduction, announcing himself as a professional photographer had intrigued her. His promise to make her famous had engulfed her intoxicated mind. He had little effort persuading her.
The European had convinced her to go back to his studio and take a couple of photos for an upcoming magazine. A print that would give her the edge. She'd be an instant hit, he had assured her.
Kira knew she was pretty. She had always attracted attention and truthfully, the European wasn't the first to suggest she pose before the camera. When younger she had even dabbled with modelling and had briefly appeared in the background of a television commercial. She had since given in to working behind the desk of a real-estate company, flashing her beautiful smile and seducing buyers for the agents. She was eye candy. Blonde, busty, athletic. She didn't mind the gawking. She almost embraced it. Still, she wanted to use her looks for her own profit, not that of her employers.
She should have taken more notice of his office. Taken more notice of the posters that hung in the wall. Glamorous as they were, the participants were far more scantily clothed then she would ever have been prepared to do. At least, if she was sober.
What was the name of that magazine? Who did he say he worked for? Do people even buy magazines these days? Had she given him her full name? Did she sign any paperwork?
He had taken approximately 30 shots of her in various poses and positions. She had removed her top for at least half of them. She had removed all her clothes for the final few.
What kind of poses did she do? Did she keep herself covered? Oh god. Had she been touching herself? Did he have photos of her masturbating? The questions kept plaguing her mind, her memory groggy.
Was he even a real photographer?
Kira sat up in bed, pulling the covers up around her midriff. The king bed seemed so empty. Her boyfriend was away for the weekend; thus, she had gratefully accepted a Friday night out with the girls. What would they think? Did they know? Would they tell him? Would he leave? Would she be forced to spend the rest of her nights alone in this big old bed?
Her mind kept racing with questions. Deciding sleep was beyond her for the night, she dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a simple T-shirt. Aware of the neighbours and trying to not make any excess noise for a 2am Sunday morning, she crept out the apartment and into the street below. She began to walk towards where his office lay. Towards where she had posed for him in a drunken stupor only 24 hours before.
It took her twenty minutes of continuous stride to reach the office building. Sure enough, the signage proudly boasted the building to be the home of 'Maverick Magazine', a popular men's magazine full of sport, innuendo and scantily clad ladies. She had seen the magazine before, craftily hidden away under her little brothers' bed. What if he opened the pages and saw her?
Kira glanced around her. It was early. It was dark. Had anyone noticed her? Could she get into the building? Could she remember the room where he had stored her folder of photos? Could she take them? Would there be any other record? Was everything digital these days?
She remembered the twirl and flash of the camera after each shot. Damn it! How did it all work? Was she on a computer somewhere? Did the magazine have an online presence? Would she be one of those girls that got passed around via email? She felt sick.
She was still pondering her next move when a light flickered on. She gasped as she recognised the bald head of the European. He must be working late, she surmised. Did he have another girl in there? Had he already processed her pictures?
She swallowed deeply and gently tapped on the glass. The bald head swung around in surprised response to the intrusive noise. His eyes narrowed as he took in the figure before him, then, as he seemed to recognise her, his stare softened, and he relaxed. She wasn't a burglar.
Kira waited as he rose from his seat and made his way around the building to the front door, lights switching on, marking his progress on route to her waiting spot. Finally, the outside bulb spurred into action, temporarily blinding her as the door swung open.
'Back so soon?' He smirked.
'I came to talk to you about last night.' She stammered. 'I want the photos back.'
'Sorry love.' His accent cooed. 'You signed the paperwork and they are all ready for next month's episode.'
'Oh.'
'Relax.' He reassured her. 'You looked gorgeous. You loved the camera! I've never shot someone so willing! I'm sure you'll be a big hit, and this will be the start of a new career. It's all you spoke about last night!'
'I want them back.' She sulked, not sure what to do. 'I don't want to be seen like that.'
He shrugged in response. 'Sorry love.'
'Can I at least see them?'
He pondered her request then once again shrugged. 'Sure, I think you'll like them.'
He took her into the offices and lead her down a hallway towards the room where she had first noticed the light. It was a different room to the one she had been in the night before.
He walked over to the computer and pressed a few buttons. Her heart sunk as she realised there was a digital copy. Kira watched as he clicked through a series of folders before clicking open the one marked "Kira Murphy, 23."
Kira gasped as the images filled the screen. There she was, in various stages of undress, in full pose. She grabbed the mouse and clicked on the first image; she was in her underwear with a finger on her lips as if quieting the crowd. The words across the screen read "Kira has a secret to share."
'You used my real name?' She asked aloud, shocked.
'Yes, you wanted to launch your career, remember? Seemed silly to call you someone else.' He replied.
'Have you printed any of these?' She asked tentatively.
'Yes, we took 30 to 40 shots and narrowed it down to about nine. We've printed the best ones and run a strip tease type narrative about you coming from the unknown and wanting to become a star. You're the cover girl of Aprils edition and that includes four pages in the middle.'
