One, Two, Three, Cha!

"One, two, three, Cha!" August counted in his head before striking a pose.

Crossing his arms, he turned his head to the side, bringing his left profile into the light as he sat on the long stool, legs crossed.

Click!

"Buena! Buena calidad!" the photographer yelled out in excitement, raising his hand in a thumbs up. Bringing his hands down to the camera and positioning his face closer behind it, the photographer yelled out, "¡Muestrame tu mejor lado!"

August quickly darted his eyes to his secretary's pad opposite him and beside the crew to see what the photographer was saying. 'Show me your best side,' it read.

August looked back to the camera, untangling his legs.

"One, two, three, Cha!" he recited, pushing his head forward and flipping his hair back dramatically.

Click!

"¡Se sexy!" the photographer wasted no time, yelling immediately.

August didn't need a translation for this. Even though he didn't understand Spanish at all, he knew what 'sexy' meant. Almost all his Spanish fans online called him that whenever he was on live video.

"One, two, three, Cha!"

He unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt, widening it, then wrapped his hand around his neck like a sultry strangler. He threw his head back, sticking out his tongue to the left side of his lips, looking all ready to lick something.

Click!

"¡Vogue, papi, vogue!" came the photographer's hurried and enthusiastic beckon.

August, already feeling pushed, quickly glanced from his secretary's pad and back to the camera. 'Vogue, daddy, vogue.'

He didn't feel bad about being rushed to perfection; it only meant the photographer liked his style and the view he showcased as a whole.

This photographer was Ric Pierre, the country's most sought-after talent even though he wasn't from this country. It was an honor for August to be pleasing him with his poses.

"One, two, three, Cha!"

August rested his head on his left hand, which stood firm on his knee, bending over. He stuck a finger from that hand into his mouth, squinting his eyes to purposefully paint the daddy picture vividly.

Click!

"¡Oi! ¡Muéstrame tus mejores atributos, Papi!" the photographer yelled, captivated and lost. It felt like he was almost losing his mind.

Routine!

August ran his eyes to the pad and back, but then looked back at the pad again. "Huh?" It read: 'Show me your best assets, daddy!'

Seeing that made him picture himself in a weird position that would have killed his mother again and again if she were alive to hear him share his thoughts.

He wanted to turn back, get down on all fours, and shove his ass right up and twerk it! Boohoo, he was a man.

"One, two, three, Cha!"

While sitting on the stool, he widened his legs, lifting up his hip like he was barely sitting, the tips of his shiny brogues barely kissing the ground. He laid his upper body back, holding the edge of the stool front so as not to fall.

With his full upper chest open to the camera, he gave off the underlying message: 'Come have this Daddy!'

Click!

Click!!

Click!!!

"¡Buena vista!" the photographer turned to the crew and the viewers at the back, marveling. "Este modelo es una creación divina, un regalo para los ojos."

Finally, it was all over. "Hww!" August sighed, glancing over at the pad.

'This model is a divine creation, a gift for the eyes.' The pad read a translation of what Ric, the photographer, had just said. August was delighted, but it didn't show on his face or body language. He wondered why.

Being marveled and praised by the country's gem foreigner photographer was a big deal, but what was wrong with his mood now taking a sour turn? He felt like frowning.

He sluggishly turned back, bending over to pick up the white jacket matching the white pants he had worn. He had just picked it up, yet to stand up, when he felt someone wrap a cloth around his waist.

"I've got you, Papi."

August stood upright, only to meet face-to-face with a pink-haired, lean fellow who winked at him.

"Who are you?" August asked, his tone coming out protectively gruff. He hated close contact to the core, and what was this? A black jacket tied around his waist by this pink-haired, hungry-looking punk?

The pink-haired guy inched closer, taking something out of his pocket before August could react to the closeness. "I'm Day, and this is yours. Keep it."

With that, Day turned back and walked away.

Compared to August, this guy was lean, and August could easily catch him and give him a good beating. But seeing what the guy had placed in his hand… a sanitary pad!

August: "!!!"

"S..." he immediately shut himself up from saying anything out loud. He looked around; no one's eyes were on him, so no one saw.

'Thank God.'

But then, realizing something, he was stained at the back and bent over! And that cranny-haired guy, Day, had seen it! And even gave him a sanitary pad!

'How? How did he know I was…'

August's thoughts were interrupted by his secretary approaching, eyes wide with concern. "August, are you okay? You seem a bit... off."

August quickly hid the sanitary pad behind his back. "Uh, yeah. Just a little tired, I guess."

The secretary leaned in, lowering her voice. "Ric thinks you're amazing. He wants to book you for another shoot next week. And, oh, a big artist idol here for a visit had ordered a free hot tea for you"

August forced a smile. "Great, that's... great." Why did it seem like he knew who ordered the tea?! Day?!

As the crew began packing up, August noticed Day lingering near the exit, giving him a knowing look.

'What's his deal?' August thought, feeling both grateful and embarrassed.

Before he could dwell on it further, Ric approached, beaming. "August, you were fantastic today! Truly, a natural. I've never seen anyone embody 'sexy' quite like you."

His English seemed practiced to August and it sounded a bit strange giving the tongue. "Thanks, Mr. Ric," August replied, trying to keep his composure. "Just doing my best."

Ric clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll be in touch about next week's shoot. Rest up, you've earned it."

As Ric walked away, August let out a sigh of relief. He glanced at Day one more time, who winked and mouthed, "You're welcome."

August shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips before leaving there with his one week assigned secretary.

If there was one thing he was happy about, it's that despite being back in this country he had forsaken four years ago, which once had a ruthless government, he still met someone (Day) who didn't consider him a taboo for being a muscular man yet having a vagina that bleeds from time to time!