Page 31 of What Happens in Dubai

‘Indiana Jones?’ I could hear my voice get louder. ‘He slagged my fucking hat, and you said nothing.’ I was pointing in Raj’s face aggressively. ‘Meanwhile, he’s stoatin’ about Dubai like the fucking big man with Skindiana Bones on his arm. Aye, well, I’ve had enough, and I’m not fucking going anywhere with him, OK!’

I began wading through the water, my feet occasionally slipping on the tiled floor as I tried to get out of the pool in a hurry.

Eventually I surfaced, soaking wet, and stormed to the loungers. I could feel my emotions surging, and I wrapped both my and Raj’s towels around me. I was shocked, embarrassed, envious and sad. Out of all the people in all the places on the whole entire planet, I had to see him when I looked like this.

Raj returned to his lounger, but we sat in silence. I pretended to sleep, shutting my eyes tightly while my salty tears dribbled down my face. Suddenly I felt trapped in this beachy paradise and craved my home. I missed the cold, grey weather. I missed the layers of clothes I could wear to mask my unpleasant body shape from the outside world. Most of all, I missed the comfort of being able to hide away from every person when I felt like this. My friends surrounded me, but today, more than anything, I wanted to be alone.

Raj nudged me just after two o’clock.

‘Time for us to go to work, kiddo,’ he whispered.

Chapter Eleven

Just before three, Raj and I walked into the luxury Palm Hotel’s grand suite to set up injectables for the influencers. The room felt chaotic and was alive with noise from an overwhelming number of camera operators and make-up artists. I tried my best to blend into the background and spotted a small space to wait in until required. I sat down on a small leather bucket chair, and Raj followed closely behind. We hadn’t spoken about Tom, or our argument, solely about the necessary arrangements for work.

‘Sorry, who are you?’ A small English man approached us, looking overworked and stressed. He was wearing a cotton turtleneck with a suit jacket and matching handkerchief hanging from the pocket. I couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would wear a turtleneck in the fucking desert.

‘My name’s Raj, and this is Zara. Andy sent us. We’ve got the filler for the aesthetics shoot?’ Raj answered politely while I continued to scrutinise this man’s choice of clothing.

I could see the stress drain from his face immediately as he puffed.

‘Thank god,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Everyone, hello. Everyone, they’re here.’

The room suddenly swarmed around us, and I peered up at Raj, who looked as baffled as me.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked, looking uncomfortable as the assemblage eyed us up and down.

‘You’re here for the shoot? Yes?’ the photographer asked.

‘Yes,’ we both nodded.

‘Well, you’d better get ready then. This is a major campaign. We don’t have time for you two to sit around. A lot of money is behind this.’

‘Get dressed?’ I said. ‘Sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. We’re only here to set up the injectables; we’re not actually in the photographs.’ I began to chuckle loudly at the confusion, but no one joined in.

‘Yes, you are. There’s been a change of plan to the shoot. Get to make-up and hair straight away. Both of you!’ he added, wiping away the smirk which had begun to form on Raj’s lips.

I rose as one of the make-up girls hurried over and ushered me to the side.What the fuck was happening?I couldn’t be part of a photoshoot. I looked a mess.

‘Raj, what is happening?’ I hissed to him under my breath as I was led in another direction.

‘I have no idea,’ he called back.

A tall girl stood at the make-up station with her entire collection laid out in front of us.

‘Zara, right?’ she said.

I nodded to her, still completely confused.

‘I’m Stella. Just relax, I’m going to do your make-up,’ she said with an American accent and patted the chair for me to sit on.

‘Stella, I think there’s been a mistake. I can’t model.’

‘Girl,’ Stella popped one hand on her hip, ‘once I’m finished with you, you’re gonna feel like a model. Besides, have you seen any of them model gals without a filter or an airbrush?’ She paused sassily. ‘Trust me, you don’t wanna. You’re going to be fine, girl.’

Before I could say anything else, she started wiping my skin thoroughly with a cleansing wipe.

‘What the hell kind of product you got going on your skin? Y’all like Casper right now.’ She sneered at me.

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