The headache was getting worse.

The dull, painful, hammering in Lamy’s head continued as it had for hours already, even as she brought her leg up to strike a dainty, feminine pose for the photographer. As the camera flashed again, white-hot squeezing, stabbing pain shot through her eyeballs and up into her brain. The bright lights of the studio only intensified the throbbing behind her temples.

Sleep. She should have slept. Shouldn’t have been up all night. Another pose. Another flash. More pain. The scent of hairspray and makeup products hung heavy in the air, clashing with the faint aroma of coffee she could detect from somewhere in the distance.

Coffee. Coffee would help. Lamy needed coffee. After one more flash, the photographer gave her the blessed thumbs-up, and she finally relaxed. As the crew began to pack up the set, Lamy approached one of the newer guys. She knew there was coffee in the studio’s break room, but she wanted to sit and take off these heels first. Maybe this guy would be willing to get her some?

“Excuse me.” She started, wringing her hands in front of her. “Would you be so kind as to get me some coffee?”