Luisa
One thousand miles from London, asleep in her hotel room on the Amalfi coast, Luisa woke with a start as her phone buzzed on the bedside table. The hotel room was dark and unfamiliar, the sheets too crisp, the pillows too firm. Why, she thought, can no hotel anywhere ever just get it right?
She'd fallen into a fitful sleep after arriving, mentally exhausted from the travel and also, if she was being honest with herself, thinking non-stop, her mind in a whirl, about the messages she'd discovered on Amy's phone from Sarah... the messages that had made it very clear what the two of them had planned that night.
She reached for her phone, squinting at the bright screen. 2am in Italy. That meant it was 1am in London. Amy was still awake, and having seen those texts Luisa knew immediately where she was, what she was doing.
The message itself was innocuous, sweet even. But the timing told a different story.
Luisa set the phone back down without replying, turning onto her side and willing herself back to sleep.
But sleep wouldn't come. Her mind kept conjuring images of Amy with Sarah, doing all the things she suspected, half knew, that they did together. Some fairly outrageous things.
It was within the bounds of what they'd agreed, she reminded herself. An open relationship meant open. But that didn't stop her thinking about it. Not when she was lying there in bed, alone, knowing that Amy was sleeping with another woman, probably at that exact moment. Touching her, tying her up, spanking her, making her call the name of the woman that Luisa loved...
Stop, Luisa told herself. This isn't productive. Imagining them or getting jealous of them won't help.
But at 2am, woken from sleep, no one's brain can avoid thinking like that... she couldn't help how she felt.
Morning came too soon, bringing with it a throbbing headache and a mood that was the exact opposite of the beautiful, clear blue sky outside her window. The photoshoot was scheduled to start at 9am, which meant she'd likely see Alethea soon.
The thought brought a combination of excitement, the usual anticipation, but also a degree of trepidation. This was her life now it seemed... women who belonged partly to her and partly to others, compartmentalised relationships that never quite satisfied the longing for something complete.
As she dressed, Luisa caught her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back seemed suddenly foreign to her, like she was watching someone play a role she'd outgrown.
"Time to be professional," she told her reflection, then added with bitter irony, "At least that's something I know how to do."
The light was perfect, which made it worse.
Luisa was stood barefoot on sun-baked stone, the breeze catching the thin fabric of the robe that she'd been given to wear... the designer's idea of something someone would want to wear, but that someone certainly wasn't Luisa.
Beyond the terrace the cliffs dropped sharply into the sea, the spring sunshine in the clear blue sky giving everything a sharp edge. It was breath-taking.
But mostly it was hot, and tedious, and Luisa was in a bad mood, counting the minutes until she could get back into the shade.
"Lift your chin a little," said the photographer. "Now, more attitude."
Attitude, she thought, I'll give you attitude, but she held her tongue... her mood wasn't the fault of the photographer. She shifted her weight, arched her brow, a look she'd practiced a thousand times over the years, desire and disinterest wrapped up in a single expression.
"Perfect," the photographer muttered, snapping a few more shots and then pausing. "Ok, let's take five minutes then pick this up again."
Luisa took the opportunity to grab some water and stand in the shade. It was only 10am, it was going to be brutal later in the day.
As she sat off to one side, she sighed deeply. She wasn't just in a bad mood. She was annoyed. With Amy. And then she was annoyed at herself with being annoyed at Amy, because she loved Amy and she didn't want to be annoyed with her, and it wasn't reasonable to be annoyed at her... but the lack of sleep, the heat, everything still meant that Luisa was annoyed regardless.
It wasn't the whole thing about the messages she'd seen yesterday morning, she'd managed to rationalise all of that by the time she went to bed last night. She may not have liked it but it was a consequence of Amy and Luisa being in an open relationship, something she'd willingly agreed to.
She couldn't stop brooding though on the message at 2am from Amy saying that she loved Luisa and she hoped she had a good night's sleep, the one that had woken Luisa up and jolted her awake when she read it, so much that she barely slept the rest of the night.
2am.
That was 1am in London.
And four hours after Luisa had messaged her to say she'd arrived safely. Four hours.
Only one possible explanation, and it wasn't working late.
She knew it wasn't intentional, that Amy didn't know that Luisa had seen Sarah's messages, but there are few things worse than waking your girlfriend up in the middle of the night with a text that confirms what she already knew... particularly when it was after just enough sleep for her to spend the rest of the night awake and catastrophising it.
What if Amy leaves me for Sarah? What if she told Sarah she loves her too? What if I can't give Amy what Sarah can? Those and a thousand other questions had been running through her head since 2am.
So, yes... Luisa was in a bad mood, and the heat wasn't helping. She needed space to think and she couldn't get it, not until the day had done and she could retreat to her room. She just needed to make it to the end of the day, get her head together that evening, and then it would all be fine.
She saw Alethea for the first time at lunchtime, literally bumping into her on the way into the dining area which was mercifully air conditioned.
"Hey," Alethea said when she saw who it was. There was the usual smile, and Luisa smiled back despite her mood, feeling her spirits lift just a bit.
"Hey... are you grabbing some lunch?" asked Luisa.
"Just did." She grimaced. "Apparently they want to do something ridiculous with my hair so I've got to hurry. We'll talk later." As ever, a statement not a question.
"Of course." She watched as Alethea walked off, smiling to herself at how Alethea was taking her time despite one of the assistants desperately trying to hurry her up. That was Alethea through and through.
Sat down with a plate of salad and some water, Luisa got talking to one of the other models, a Spanish woman that she'd not met before, enjoying being able to switch out of English, and she soon felt her mood lift further, breaking out of her funk and switching into professional mode.
She was damned if she was going to let whatever this road bump was with Amy get in the way of what was a great professional opportunity for her, the chance to start doing work more often in Europe. She'd worry about the thing with Amy when she saw her back in London on Sunday.
Late in the afternoon and the final set of outfits, swimwear with some utterly impractical cut-outs and string ties... not her style at all, but as ever she was professional and did what she needed to do.
