Roy And The Road To Renee - Chapter 11
By Pentatonic

Monday, January 4, 2016:

The first day back at school after the break was cold and overcast, the weather mirroring the moods of the student body. Mr. Burns, the English teacher, on the other hand, walked into class with a smile on his face. “Hope you all enjoyed Twelfth Night. Does anyone know what twelfth Night is?” I knew, but I didn’t want to call attention tp myself. “Anyone?” he repeated. Reluctantly, I raised my hand.

“Mr. Evans?” he said.

“It’s the end of the Christmas Season, and involves a lot of drinking and eating.”

“Very good,” Mr. Burns responded, “which is tomorrow for those who care. Please remember that your papers are due on Wednesday, which is Epiphany. From your papers I should be able to discover who actually read the play and who only surfed the internet for easy answers.”

I felt smug. Not only had my friends and I read it together and discussed it among ourselves, but I had actually written my paper, It was entitled: ‘Twelfth Night - Successful Cross-Dressing.’ In my paper I also made references to Cheribino’s cross-dressing in Der Rosenkavalier. I had my completed paper in my backpack, but was reluctant to turn it in early and incite the ire of my classmates.

Monday, January 11, 2016:

Mr. Burns brought our papers into class. “Well, it seems that some of you tried to fake it, and it was obvious, an ephiphany of sorts. However, there was a group of you whose papers were very good. I don’t want to embarrass anyone, but perhaps Miss Jones could explain what she did.”

“A group of us met and we assigned roles and we read the play aloud and together, since the play was intended to be heard. After each act we shared our thoughts,” Becky explained, “It took more time than the run time, but we had a lot of fun. The biggest problem was finding a time when everyone was available. We also discovered that we had some unrepentant hams in our group. I would tell you who they were, but some of their egos are already at the bursting point.” This produced a chuckle from the members of the class.

“You have discovered the best way to understand a play. I commend you and your fellow students,” Mr. Burns said.

All eight of us received ‘A’s on our papers.

That afternoon Ms. Shay telephoned me. “I received a call from Mrs. Bates. It seems that Coffrey’s Department Stores at the mall wants to do a four page full color ad for spring fashions which will be inserted in the paper to appear on a Sunday. She wants you as one of the models and she wanted to know if that was okay with me before she called you. Naturally, I don’t like a competitor using my employee, but it is too good of an opportunity for you to pass up. The store wants to have a fashion show, complete with a runway, in the food court on the Saturday before the ad appears.”

“Sounds cool,” I said.

“Okay, I’ll have Mrs. Bates call you with the details.”

Thursday, January 14, 2016:

On Wednesday I had spoken with Mrs. Bates and confirmed that I would be delighted to model. “There is a photo shoot at Coffrey’s Department Store a week from today in the afternoon. They’re doing a spring clothes ad and they are using the bridal salon since it has the most room and a pretty background. There will also be a fashion show in the food court of the mall on the Saturday afternoon before the ad is put in the paper. They’re going to set up a runway, and you’ll model various outfits and walk up and down the runway.”

This runway business didn’t seem quite as simple as Mrs. Bates would have one believe. I had seen some views of fashion runway work, and I thought that I better look into it before the actual day.

I then thought about Stephanie’s card.

During lunch hour, I called Stephanie, and expressed my concerns and asked her if she knew anything about working on a runway. “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said. “Why don’t you stop over at my place this afternoon after school?”

It was a school day, and I was all Roy. I didn’t want to stop off at home and have to answer a bunch of question, so I’d have to go as I was. I did call home and lied to my mother and said that I was going to hang around with some of the guys but would be home before supper. Maybe not too big a lie, because Stephanie was, in truth, a ‘guy.’

When I arrived at her place, Stephanie seemed to be surprised to see Roy at her door. “What? No Renee?” she commented.

“No time to change,” I answered, “remember, I was at school all day?”

Stephanie obviously had time to change. She was wearing a negligee with only a bra and panties underneath and a pair of furry slippers on her feet. She was also wearing expertly applied makeup.

“On the phone you mentioned being in a fashion show and need to learn how to walk down a runway.” she said.

“Yes.”

“As a female?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, now let’s talk about runways,” Stephanie said. “I would expect that there will be a little stage with the runway extending in front of it. I also expect that there will be curtains at the back of the stage. You might come from behind the curtain either in a group or singly. If in a group, you will, one by one, go down the runway, turn, go back and stand on the other side of the stage until everyone has done the runway. If singly, you will come from behind the curtain, alone, and do the runway. They’ll tell you how they want to do it. Now, the important part is how you walk the runway. Let me show you what I mean. Pretend that this hallway is the runway.”

She moved to one end of the hall and walked down it, turned around, and walked back. “The important part is to put one foot directly in front of the other, like this,” and she demonstrated what she meant. “Lead with your toe, not your heel, and put a sway in your behind. It makes your skirt move nicely.” She then demonstrated this. “Your turn is important. If you have a full skirt, you want it to flare up when you turn. Watch me.”

She then had me walk up and down the hall, watching and commenting on how I was walking and turning. Finally she declared that I was ready

Wednesday, January 20, 2016:

The actual photo shoot was not unlike the others in which I had participated except there were a lot more people involved and it was being done ‘green screen.’ With green screen, the only background is a green screen. The background can then be added. There were models present, along with makeup artists. The store provided people to handle wardrobe. The photographer had two assistants. There even was a director.

My first photo had me wearing a yellow print halter sundress. I had one arm extended and someone put a fake bird on my extended index finger, and I looked at the bird and smiled. A lot of shots were taken with me and the bird, with the photographer and director reviewing the shots before taking more. I then modeled a lot of different outfits, and I noticed that some of my fellow models wore the same outfits that I wore. However, no one else did the bird thing.

In general, I followed directions, and at one point the photographer came up to me and said, “Honey, I wish all of my models were like you. You’re good looking, you’re easy to work with, you follow directions and most importantly, the camera loves you. What agency are you with/”

“Bates,” I replied with a smile.

“And your name?”

“Renee Evans.”

“I’ll be sure to ask for you for future shoots,” he concluded. This made me feel good. Another thing that made me feel good was that the director, who was in charge of advertising at Coffrey’s, offered me a job.

Saturday, January 23, 2016:

I awoke early on the day of the fashion show to use a hair remover and to reattach my breast forms. I had used some of the money I earned modeling to buy top of the line breast forms and makeup to conceal the join. I also used some makeup to give a hint of greater cleavage. Naturally, Amy was an enthusiastic helper, even offering to help me with my gaff, which help I declined.

I had a 9:30 appointment at the salon for hair, makeup and nails. I was assured that everything would be completed a little after eleven, which it was.

I very carefully dressed, choosing clothes which would make changing clothes easy, but which also looked good on me.

Amy drove me to the mall to save me from having to spend time looking for a parking space. I arrived with plenty of time to spare and checked in with security. The store had planned to run the show multiple times that day. The first show would be at 1:00, with four other shows starting on the hour thereafter.

My first stop was makeup, and when the makeup artist saw me she said, “Oh Honey, your makeup is wonderful. I don’t have to change a thing. Who did it?”

“I had it done this morning at my salon,” I responded.

“Well, stop by each time before you go on, in case we have to repair anything,” she said.

I then located where I would be changing into the different outfits which I would model. There were clerks from the store assigned to help the models change outfits. The models were put in groups of four, and each model in a group was assigned a number. I was number one in the first group. I would model the same yellow sun dress which I wore in the photo shoot, minus the bird.

All of the outfits to be shown were given a number, and the store had printed a sheet identifying, the outfit by number, a description, where in the store it could be bought and the price. These were freely given to all of the members of the audience. There was a numeric display above the stage which showed the number of the outfit while the model walked down the runway along with an announcer who provided commentary.

The store manager made welcoming remarks and music was started. I listened to the beat, and planned to walk in time to the music. I was the first model in my group of four, and the first model to walk on the stage, accompanied by applause and wolf whistles. As Stephanie had taught me, I pranced down the runway, did my turn which flared out the skirt, and pranced back., wiggling my behind. The audience loved it.

I looked at the audience and recognized Annette from the newspaper, who wrote a weekly column for the style section called ‘On the Runway.’ I had appeared in that column once before where Annette called me a ‘rising star in modeling.’ After the first show, I was sitting and waiting for the makeup lady when Annette came over to me. “Oh, Renee,” she said, “You were absolutely wonderful. Where did you learn that walk?”

“A friend taught me.”

“Well, she did a great job. It was wonderful to see you strut your stuff. By the way, the store’s ad campaign is called ‘Fly Into Spring,’ and you are the centerpiece. Your picture with the bird is front and center in the newspaper insert and is posted all over the mall to draw attention to the fashion show here.”

I was a little surprised with what Annette had said.

Just before Annette excused herself to talk with some of the other models, she said, “Make sure you read my column tomorrow.”

Sunday, January 24, 2016:

I was woken up when I heard my sister yell, “Hey, sis, get your pretty butt down here. Now!”

I was tired when I went to bed the night before, and I had not removed my Breast forms. Given the immediacy of Amy’s request, I put on a bra and some panties and covered it with a terrycloth robe. The first order of business was getting some coffee.

The Sunday paper was spread out on the kitchen table, with the Style section and store ad on top. Amy had an enormous smile on her face, which contrasted with my mother’s frown. My mother was the first to speak. “Shameless,” was all she said.

I had no idea what was going on, so all I could say was “Huh?”

“You!”

“Me?”

“Yes, prancing and strutting around like some loose woman,” she said. She then turned to Amy and said, “I don’t like it when you refer to Roy as your sister. He’s your brother, and don’t forget it.”

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on while I get a cup of coffee. I’m still half asleep?”

“No, you stay where you are until I’m finished with you!” my mother commanded.

“Okay,” I replied, “I’m listening.”

My mother picked up the ad insert and pointed at my picture, the one with the bird. “Look at you, standing under a rose trellis, looking all sweetness and innocence. Then look at you on that runway, looking like sin incarnate.”

“That’s what a model is supposed to do on the runway,” I said in defense. “I get paid money to do that.”

That was the wrong thing to say, because my mother countered, “Like a prostitute gets paid!”

I looked at Amy, and mimed drinking coffee. She got the message and brought me a cup. My mother then picked up the Style section of the paper and shook it at me. “Did you see what that Annette said about you in her column. You shouldn’t be looking to her for proper moral guidance.”

An evil thought came to my mind: better her than Stephanie. My mother was staring at my chest. “I see that you’re still wearing those falsies!” she declared. “Are you also wearing a bra and panties?”

I decided not to answer that question, but that did not stop my mother’s diatribe. “I don’t know whatever came over you to dress like a woman.”

I had too much of her railing at me. “You remember when my class had to write about how it would be to be the opposite sex, and you and Becky went out and bought me a bunch of girl clothes? It was you who started it.”

“But how about the Halloween party and you as the Queen of the Night?” she countered. “Maybe it should have been ‘QUEER of the night.’ Did you see what that Annette said about you in her column?” I obviously had not had a chance to read the column, so my mother supplied some juicy tidbits from it, like “She really knows how to strut her stuff” and “delightfully sexy moves.”

“I saw it and It was just plainly disgusting.” she concluded, but then added, “Go upstairs and get dressed before your father sees you like this.”

Amy grabbed the Style section of the paper and the store ad, and said, “I’ll take these with me so Dad doesn’t see them.” With that she followed me upstairs. Once in my room I took off my robe. “You are wearing a bra and panties!” she exclaimed.

After I took a shower and after I changed into my Roy clothes, I was able to look at Coffrey’s ad and the column written by Annette. She was lavish in her praise of me, even referring to her previous column. When I had finished, Amy said, “You really were the star of the show. Everyone loved you. Look at the ad, there are lots of pictures of you in it. The reaction you got when you were on the runway was fabulous. I am so proud of you and that you are my sister.”

Amy then thought about what she had just said. “You still are my sister, aren’t you?” she asked.

I smiled at her and said, “Absolutely!”

Wednesday, January 27, 2016:

I received a call from the Coffrey’s Manager. “The reaction to you at the fashion show was fabulous,” he said. “There is a lot of interest in you, and a lot of people want to meet you. What we would like to do is have you at the entrance on Saturday and greet customers coming into the store. You would be wearing the yellow sun dress. It would be for about five hours, from 10:00 until 3:00. Are you interested?”

I told him I was, and started planning how to pull this off without my parents knowing about it. I called Becky and told her about it, and we decided that, if necessary, I could get dressed at her house.

I also called Ms. Shay and she said it was okay. I also called Mrs. Bates, and she said she would work out the financial details with the store. She then added, “By the way, after the positive reaction to the show, we’re upping your modeling rates. I think that you’ll be very pleased.”

Saturday, January 30, 2016:

I woke up very early that morning, and put extra care in my makeup and hair, trying to duplicate my look from the fashion show. I even glued on my breast forms and used makeup to hide the join. Amy joined me when I was just finished getting dressed. “How’s it going?” she asked.

“How do I look?” I said in the way of an answer.

“Gorgeous!”

“Now, how do I get out of the house without the parents seeing me?”

“I’ve scouted the situation. Both parents are in the kitchen eating, so I think we can sneak out of the front door.”

I successfully escaped from the house and arrived at the employee’s entrance at the store at about 9:45, where I was met by the store manager. “Your admiring audience is already collecting at the main entrance. Now, let me see how you look,”

I took off my coat and he looked me up and down. When he was finished, he declared, “Fabulous!”

The manager and I made our way to the front entrance where I was greeted with applause and whistles. I noted that there were a lot of pictures of me posted all over. All of this gave me a warm glow and I smiled. I then addressed the crowd, and said, “I’m looking forward to chatting with each of you, but first you should notice that there is a list of outfits from a week ago, and there is a video monitor replaying the fashion show. The reason I mention this is that if you buy one of the outfits and show the sales clerk the list, you get an automatic fifteen percent discount.”

The store manager then took over. “One other thing is that there are pictures of Renee on this table, and if you have a sales receipt from the store for any day in the past two weeks, you get a picture and Renee will personally autograph it if you want.” This did not seem to be a big deal to me, but it did cause a buzz of excitement and a flurry of searching through purses and pockets. “This offer is good for the next five hours, so if you can’t find a receipt, we have plenty of merchandise on hand, so if you buy anything, and I mean anything, that will work.”

I began to mingle with the people and made it a point to talk with each and everyone present. To my delightful surprise, they acted like I was a real celebrity, and not just some kid from the local high school. While this was going on, the manager was handing out photographs. I did notice receipts being handed from one person to another, and I was sure that the manager noticed the same. However, that didn’t phase him and he kept on handing out photographs, which was the main idea. The photos were of me under the trellis with the fake bird on my finger and were printed on glossy paper. I guess that if people thought they were of some value, it would be great advertising for Coffrey’s.

I then sat down at a small table and began autographing each photo as it was handed to me. I even personalized them if requested. Naturally I had to be pleasant and charming as I could be with a big smile on my face. The manager noticed this and smiled back at me.

After the initial crowd had their autographed photos, things quieted a bit. It was then that I noticed a trio of girls who were in my class at school. One of them kept staring at me. “Excuse me for staring, but you remind me of someone I know, but I just can’t place her,” she said.

Good pronoun, I thought. “I hope she’s not prettier than I am,” I said.

“No, no, nobody could be prettier than you.” she replied. Talk about an ego boost. The fact that she couldn’t place me was a plus. Maybe it’s the fake boobs, I thought. If so, they were worth every penny I paid for them, and that was a lot of pennies.

During my greeting session, a lot of the customers took my photo on their cell phones, some of me alone but most of them with me posing with their friends. There was, however, a man who hung around most of the time snapping photos. He had the look of a professional photographer. When I asked the manager, I was told that the store had hired a photographer for the event. “We plan on doing a piece on our spring ad campaign, and today’s event will be part of it,” he said, “I’ll get you some nice prints for your portfolio,” he added.

Naturally, Amy, Becky and my friends had to show up and get autographed photos. Later on, Amy came up to me. “My, my,” she said, “Aren’t we the celebrity.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “fifteen minutes of fame, and my feet feel like I’ve used fourteen minutes of them already.”

“No,” she answered, “you’ve got a lot more minutes coming. By the way, when you are ready to come home, give me a call and we can figure out how we can get you into your room and back to being Roy without the parents any wiser.”

“Thanks sis,” I said, “I couldn’t do it without you,”

“That’s what sisters do for each other,” she said.