Lucas: Mixed signals

IRIS WON'T stop staring. She has been glaring at me ever since the design team started dressing me—Lynn included, although I must say, she hasn't been acting strange ever since being assigned to attend to my upper wear.

In fact, she's been avoiding me.

When they were supposed to apply lotion on my back, I noticed her slip away from the range, letting the others do the work whilst she stood in the distance. I'm glad she has backed off and given me the space I've always wanted, but right now, I could use that little bit of attention to make Iris jealous.

She sits on one of the chairs next to the director, arms wrapped around together. Our eyes make contact and she shuffles, avoiding it so she can smile at the photographer and talk about something that I can't hear over all the noise.