Amanda and The Photoshoot – 11
Morning arrived with the particular quality of a day she had already decided to get through. She showered and dressed in her usual dark jeans and faded band tee and stood in front of the mirror for a moment. The same face. The throat where the collar had sat across multiple sessions. She looked at both and left. The cab came at nine thirty as specified. The ride was the same blurred city lights. Three pills in her pocket. The session today would produce five more if she completed it. She had run those numbers before the cab arrived and had not stopped running them since. The side door was unlocked. She let herself in and descended the stairs. Chris was at his equipment. Mark was beside him, the same scruffy beard and unhurried quality …