Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All names of characters are fictional and were made up. Please do not copy and plagiarize my work.
This story was written for my good friend Angry Dutchman. The celeb choice, themes and ideas came from him. Special thanks to him for brainstorming with me!
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Miami, Florida
White blades from the ceiling moved at such a speed that they became a blur. Across the room was a standing fan with its fins hidden in a white metal cage. Windows on both sides of the room were covered by black mini-blinds and curtains to block out the heat from invading the room. It didn't make much of a difference in mid-July, near the height of summer in Florida. The weather wasn't enough to pull the curtains and blinds back when proper lighting was required in the room. A board hung from the wall to the south, with a wooden table facing it. Several tools sat there that weren't hanging on the wall. In the middle of the room was a standing slab of white marble. The shape cast a shadow in the direction of an old wooden chair and stool. The black leather cushion on the chair had creases and cracks, wearing out the seat.
Life had been a journey of ups and downs for Rick. At thirty-three years old, his expectations of success had changed. He had what he wanted in life with a job that kept him from leaving his comfortable home in Coconut Grove. His life had become a small world after moving to Florida and taking contracts from private collectors. His talent for carving slabs of marble into fine art paid off with the money he earned per sale of fine art. In exchange for this, he didn't have much of a social life or any ongoing relationships. Most of his days were spent alone in his massive home which would've been ideal to start a family with. Many of the rooms were unoccupied, leading his parents and older brother to remark about the waste of money on his mortgage. They believed he chose the home in hopes of finding the right woman and settling down. Rick didn't even bother trying to explain to them the pride he had in living in Miami.
It was the fall of 2019 when he first moved to Florida. Five years flew by, with the number of art pieces he crafted rising in the dozens. Furniture in the form of tables, counters, and desks were easy to sell to boutique shops and buyers with deep pockets. The sales alone were enough to make up for the costs of buying marble for future projects. Rick's real passion for designing came in the form of statues. He had sculpted seven of them based on real people, all except one, which sold to private investors. A statue was of great importance to Rick. It was his preference to sculpt something that immortalized the human body. Long before his move to Florida, he spent sleepless nights chiseling away at solid stones from his parents garage in Wisconsin. The uncomfortable winters and snowy nights became a distant memory after just one year away from home.
He reached the point of loving Florida during the pandemic. At the time, Rick had an agent who put him in contact with dealers willing to pay large sums of money for his work. With some free time, he sculpted a piece of art based on several photos of Greek statues. The only thing Rick needed was enough photos to map out the dimensions and shapes. Before he started carving art, he had an eye for details from years of sketching with pencils. Of the many statues he worked on, all but one had sold. Rick kept a close inner circle with his agent, lawyer, and older sister. The trio were the closest thing he had to any kind of friends and social life, despite the commitment of family and business interests. His sister lived in Milwaukee, often reminding him of what a simple life he left behind. It was worth chatting with her regularly since he didn't remind him of how crazy he was to isolate himself with work.
In spite of their shared trust, Rick did not tell her the details of his last sale which went wrong. If not for the covered windows, he would've been gazing at the statue as a quiet reminder. A businessman with no record online contacted him last year to make a deal for four hundred thousand dollars. It was the first time in his life that he was paid in cash. Fresh hundred dollar bills in stacks contained within two black leather briefcases. The cleanest money was a sign of how dirty his new client was. Most people in his life would've said no to a deal with someone who didn't use paperwork to file a deal. Rick took the chance, just because the payout was worth it. The man wanted a statue of his wife in a dress and crown. The down payment was only a fraction. One hundred thousand dollars still sitting mostly untouched in the briefcases. Rick spent a month carving the statue, only for his client to suffer an unfortunate fate out of the blue.
A heart attack prevented him from completing the transaction. Something he never saw coming put a stop to what would've been solid earnings. Rick tried to sell the statue to the man's widow, only to be rejected immediately. As the weeks went by, he felt burned out in disappointment. He tried to relieve his stress by getting out of the house and bicycling. That was cut short after he was clipped by a passing car and ran into a ditch. Rick suffered an injury to his right shoulder, along with cuts and bruises on his arms and chest. The pain hindered his sleeping routine for several days. As he sat down looking at the marble slab, it was a constant reminder of his recent string of bad luck. It would be foolish to try and work with a strained shoulder, yet Rick felt he needed to do something. The longer he sat around doing nothing, the more he worried his productive drive would slip. He had no hobbies besides watching baseball and surfing the internet late at night.
Rising up from the chair, he stretched out his left arm. A wave was forming at the top of his brown hair after going a month without being cut. He figured he could go a few more weeks before a trip to the barber was needed. A five o'clock shadow covered his face with tiny black hairs. His eyes were a shade of blue, sticking out from his hair and slight beard. Rick knew he had an average body that was nothing worth admiring. Nothing like the models on social media sites he spent his time viewing online. Last night had an especially long evening spent scrolling through pages of old jazz albums. Music without words kept his mind moving without having to think about much. Rick took a liking to hearing jazz and classical music when he was sculpting. Many years ago, he used headphones and an iPod to hear pop songs while drawing. His musical tastes evolved with age, leading him to spend a fair amount of money accumulating a vinyl collection that would've made most snobs blush.
The air conditioner was running in the house, only making some difference upstairs. Rick was relieved to leave his little studio room. Every window in the house was covered to block out the heat. He went back upstairs and put on Herbie Hancock's The Prisoner album on the vinyl player. The surround sound system could be heard throughout the house. He had a separate record player outside of his sculpting room, with other vinyls sitting near a table. It didn't matter what was playing, Rick just wanted to disturb the silence with something. He sat down in front of his computer and pulled up Instagram. The first thing he always did was check his own profile for potential clients. Every now and then, he got a message from someone about his art. Most of the posts he put up were of his statues and previous art, using social media solely to spread his name online.
No new messages or followers today. That was typical, since he had not posted in some time. Rick scrolled down the page, browsing the recent photos posted by models and influencers he was following. Nothing caught his eye to make him click on anything. Off to the right side of the page were the recommended profiles supplied by the algorithm. A name in bold caps caught his eye with the username Karajewelll. Upon clicking her name, he felt his blood pressure surging as he discovered Kara Del Toro. Rick's lower lip fell as he looked at the first three photos on her page. All of them showed a female figure with tanned skin, brown eyes, and dirty blonde hair that fit her angelic face. Scrolling down, his eyes were met with several photos in bikinis. His first impression was that she had to be a swimsuit model. Why had he never seen her before in an issue of Sports Illustrated? He quit scrolling and clicked pictures to get a better view of her beauty.
What he was looking at was not a mere woman. This was a goddess. He decided on that fact within minutes of studying her photos. Each and every one of them had Rick clicking on the next one. Her body was athletically toned, with curves in all the right places. The back shots revealed a plump ass, but more so, Rick was impressed with her bust. They had to be a D cup, he thought to himself. Her facial expressions gave a sense of confidence, like she knew her looks would captivate men like him. Without realizing it, drool formed from his open mouth and spilled from the left corner of his lips. Rick wiped his mouth, still staring at his computer monitor. It was by mere coincidence he saw this woman when he was thinking of sculpting again. The more he looked at her photos, the more confidence he gained that he could carve a new statue. What would be more deserving than the figure of a goddess?
Some men acted irrationally when they were motivated by pure emotion. Rick didn't stop and think about what he was doing when he clicked the message button and began typing at his keyboard. The first thought that ran through his mind was to offer a deal. Her beauty needed to be immortalized in the physical form beyond mere photographs. He didn't stop and think as his fingertips flew across the keys, typing out a long message. Only toward the end did Rick consider his offer. Two hundred thousand dollars in cash would be suffice, he figured. It was the only thing he gave serious thought to before pressing the enter key to send the message. Rick smiled to himself and then went back to her profile to look at more pictures. It didn't hit him at first that he had just written her an offer that would sound completely unrealistic to the average person.
Was it a mistake to act out of emotion? The doubts crept into his mind in the following hour as he was still looking at her photos. Rick decided to search her name online, figuring that she had to be a famous model. He took his time reading the details of her career but was disappointed to learn his assumptions were not correct. For whatever reason, she was not well known outside of swimwear modeling. There was no glorious Sports Illustrated cover or major endorsement deals to put her in the public eye. The one thing he did learn that caught his eye was that she was based in Miami. The local fashion scene was thriving with big names, so maybe there was hope from there that she would break out some day. One way or another, he was determined to get her approval to carve a statue in her figure. In the back of his mind, second thoughts were starting to surface. Rick kept them at bay, not giving in to the fears and doubts.
In the following hours, he waited for a response. The remainder of his day was spent looking at her photos. Rick was already thinking ahead of the dimensions and measures of her body that would be needed for carving. He had various ways of following photos and using geometry to calculate the finer details. By the time the night hours rolled in, Rick became concerned that she had not replied to his message. He went back to her profile and saw an email address for business inquiries. Maybe that was his ticket to speaking with her. He penned a long email and attached photos taken from his Instagram account. To go one step further, he left his phone number at the end of the message and signed it with his full name. Maybe that would be enough to get her attention in the next few days. One way or another, Rick felt determined in this newfound high. He finally found his next project, or so he believed.
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1 DAY LATER
In the morning hours, Rick sat in his kitchen, sighing as he gazed at his white coffee cup. Now that the emotions were beginning to wear off, he was left wondering if he made a mistake. After a shower, he did not think to go check his Instagram or email accounts. The doubt he managed to contain yesterday was unable to be held at bay. 'What the fuck did I just do?' he asked himself. It was a risk to email a model out of the blue the way he did without any legal representation. The only sense of agency he had was for himself and his own word. Rick grabbed the cup of coffee with both hands and took a big sip when his cellphone started to ring. He sat down the cup and grabbed his phone, gazing at the lit-up screen. The phone number was a Miami-Dade area code, so it could've been anyone. Swiping the screen with his fingers, he answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, am I speaking with Mr. Rick Adams?"
A female voice was on the other end of the line.
"Yeah, that's me."
