I had to admit, the fake breasts she brought five years ago looked fantastic in that shirt. I was almost jealous of her. They looked better than mine.
Zach, meanwhile, was topless with a pair of leather pants covering his bottom half. He looked amazing. His hair was messy like he'd just had s*x and he was debating with my mother whether or not he should use some some eye liner to make him look more dark and mysterious.
I was still firm with my decision to stay out of the photo shoot. Even though I wouldn't have to be naked, I didn't like the idea. People could recognize me; friends from school; old work colleagues; that b***h who stole my favourite hair clip in my swimming classes when I was a teen. The thought of any of them knowing - or worse, judging - what I did for a living made
