THAWED
Maddi Frank shivered and clutched the icy edge of the hole cut into the frozen-over lake. Panting hard, she gasped for air. She was going to kill her agent. She sputtered her thanks when some crew members helped her out of the water and wrapped her in an insulated, heated blanket. She was supposed to be featured in a cozy mountain resort spread. Yet here she was freezing her ass off in a lake miles from the resort in the middle of nowhere.
And, to top it all off, there was the photographer, Leigh Wrain. Maddi turned to see Leigh’s head pop up out of the water, looking perfectly fine, like she was at some spa retreat or tropical beach instead of this frigid escape. “We have the shot lined up; you ready? We don’t want to lose the light.”
What light? Maddi felt like she couldn’t see anything in that lake. It’d felt like an absolute nightmare, like some wintry grave.
But, for better or worse, this was a job. Her job. Nightmare or not, it was a step closer to her dream goal of becoming a bone fide fashion model who didn’t need her parents’, or a partner’s, or anybody’s, help to make it. So she shook her head and wiped her wet, now half-frosted bangs out of her eyes. “Yeah.” She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I’ll be right down.”
Still treading water in the ungodly lake, Leigh arched an eyebrow, looking like she didn’t believe that. “Okay.” She played with the waterproof, weather-resistant camera in her hand. “This time, when you’re down there, try to relax. You’re still a little stiff.”
Relax? Maddi fought the urge to glare at the woman. A little stiff? Easy for her, as an ice elemental, to say. Maddi, unlike the limpid photographer, wasn’t made for these kinds of conditions. Maddi had only been under for a few test shots before she’d had to hand signal that she was going back up. Unlike Leigh, she couldn’t breathe underwater, couldn’t survive in these temperatures, and couldn’t see in the shadowy depths beneath the ice. And, since the shoot didn’t allow her to be safely tethered, like the rest of the crew, she’d barely been able to find the guide line leading to the ice hole cut through the frozen lake. Thank God for her diving training!
The standby medic spoke to her, making sure she was okay to go back under. Medically, she was fine; that didn’t mean she wanted to go back. But she would. She shut her eyes. Because, whatever it took, she would get one step closer, then another and another, until she got what she wanted. So she let the stylist touch her up, leaning into the warmth of the blow-dryer while the woman tried to melt the icicles forming in Maddi’s hair.
“Leave some of the ice.” Leigh fiddled with her camera a bit more, periodically looking at Maddi through the lens. “It’ll save production from having to add it back in in post.”
Maddi frowned, while the designer tried to style her thawing hair. “But I thought I was playing an ice elemental.” Maddi looked at the photographer’s silver hair that was neatly bound in a tight bun, not a wild swirl of frost and tangled locks. “You don’t look like that.”
Leigh shrugged. “This is a travel magazine spread, not a documentary. We’re not going for accuracy here; we’re going for the feel of some exotic winter wonderland.”
Of what people thought an ice elemental ought to look like. What, if Maddi were honest, she’d thought they looked like before she met Leigh. But Leigh didn’t look like some frost sprite out of The Nutcracker. She looked...almost normal. Like a glass statue of a person. She had clear, pale pearl-tinted skin, like looking at an overcast sky through the ice, meant to camouflage under the water or over icy snow.
She wasn’t beautiful. Not like the pictures of fairies Maddi had grown up with. Her features were too sharp for beauty as if someone had chipped away too much with a chisel. It made her look serious, almost severe.
Leigh raised a thin eyebrow. “These photos are supposed to make people want to come here, so you’ll need to look less afraid down there.”
Yeah, well. Maddi huffed and gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering. “Any tips?”
Leigh shrugged. “Whenever I have to do something I really hate, it’s trite, but I think about something I’d rather be doing. Something I’m passionate about. Something I love.”
Wrapping the blanket more firmly around herself, Maddi shrugged. “Well, that’s modeling.” It was all she’d ever loved.
Leigh looked at her, surprised. “Really?”
Maddi nodded. “It’s the only thing I really like to do.”
“Why?”
Maddi wanted to laugh. A slight pink blush spread across Leigh’s crystalline skin. Maddi swore she could almost see steam rise from that flush. The poor woman looked so embarrassed by her own harsh response that Maddi couldn’t bring herself to be offended.
She just shrugged. “I’m not really artistic. I can’t draw. Can’t paint or sculpt. I can’t even dance or act or write. But I love art. I love the beauty and emotions it can evoke.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I may never be a great painter, but modeling is like being someone’s paint. I’m not a storyteller but, in the right hands, stories can be told through me.” She gave a small smile, feeling her own blush heat her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to go on like that. But it was rare for someone to ask her about her passion.
“Huh.” Leigh nodded. “I always just assumed it was about springboarding to something else, like acting or hosting or celebrity-hobnobbing, or getting paid to wear high fashion.”
Maddi nodded knowingly. “Most people do.” She knew that. And, since she wasn’t very good with words, she could never really explain it well. Or at least not well enough for her family and friends to understand why she’d left the safety of her hometown to travel all over the country for a job that barely paid her bills. Sometimes, after commission cuts and added expenses, it didn’t even do that. “But it’s the closest I can get to being an artist.”
“By becoming art.”
Maddi blinked up at Leigh. “Yes.” Exactly.
The other woman nodded. “Well, let’s hope my hands are the right ones.” She snapped a picture again. “You ready?”
As much as she would be. So Maddi gave the blanket to one of the crewmembers and stretched her arms out. “How do I look?”
Leigh nodded. “Like an ethereal, mythical being.” There was a slight sad note in her tone that made Maddi pause, but before she could say or do anything about it, Leigh held out her hand. “Let’s head back down.”
Maddi took a deep breath and reached for the other woman’s hand, shivering at the touch, and let the woman lead her back down beneath the ice.
Since no one could talk or hear well in the water, Leigh signed to her. “Stay here; get comfortable with your canvas.”
Maddi smiled and nodded, already feeling better about this whole thing. Maybe her agent had been right to book this gig; she was made for this job. Along with diving experience, she’d also learned sign language from her cousin who was deaf. She could do this. She was sure of it.
She blinked a few times, trying to adjust her eyes. She looked up and saw the sunlight streaming through thin spots in the ice like a curtain. She swam closer to it, wondering if she could see the sky through it. She touched the surface, the feel of it like cold glass against her hand, and peered through.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something shift. She turned around to see Leigh with the rest of the crew, capturing her every movement. “Ignore us.” Leigh let the camera float down against her chest as she signed. “Keep going.”
So Maddi did. She turned back to the ice and touched it, looking through it curiously. She wondered what it would be like to have never been able to get out from beneath it, to look through it and know that your entire life was held back by this arctic barrier. Constructing whole histories in her head, she turned this way and that, feeling her hair flow out around her.
Then, after a moment, she flipped her weighted-down body up to lay against the surface, letting her natural buoyancy float up to meet it. She turned to lay her cheek against it, feeling its smooth chill against her skin. She wondered if there was a certain safety in this thick, icy sheet. In being hidden away by it.
Then, wondering whether she’d feel shut in or shielded by it, she turned around to press her back against the ice.
She blinked, her breath hitching just a bit, when she saw Leigh with her camera just beneath her. Leigh gave her a thumbs-up. “Keep going.”
It felt weird to look at Leigh from this angle, with her world askew against frosty glass as Maddi watched this woman watch her through her lens. It made her feel suddenly vulnerable. Exposed. In her almost translucent, flowing dress that was tangled about her, she felt trapped.
She remembered what her modeling teachers had told her. Use it. Let whatever she was feeling—nerves, annoyance, impatience, discomfort, whatever—fuel her work. That was what would keep her honest—real—on film.
So she did, letting her insecurities shine through her eyes and posture.
Sometimes Leigh would give her directions. “Turn your head left. Lift your arm. Arch your back.” She would always bookend her directions with, “You’re beautiful.” or “You’re doing so well.” or “Tell me your story.”
So Maddi did. Feeling her confidence build, she let go of her body. Let Leigh mold and shape her. Transform her into something magical. She let Leigh spin fairytales through her, right up until she felt her lungs begin to burn with the need to breathe. She signaled to Leigh.
The woman nodded, before gesturing to the rest of the crew. Then she took Maddi’s hand, her grip cold but comforting, and led her back up to the surface for a breather break.
* * *
The shoot was taking longer than Leigh anticipated. On location like this, she preferred doing landscape nature shots with a minimal crew, just her and her camera, as much as possible.
But these kinds of glamour jobs paid for her passion, so she looked through her lens.
She supposed there were worse jobs than spending a weekend at a resort staring at Maddi Franks. Lord knew, Maddi didn’t look like any ice elemental Leigh knew, but she understood why Maddi had been given the job.
Unlike most of Leigh’s people, Maddi had a body that looked both slim and soft, all silken skin and rounded curves. Leigh, on the other hand, was all hard, sharp angles. Made of frozen magic, it was hard to be soft. Maddi, like most fashion models, was tall, lithe; she’d never disappear into the frost or beneath the ice. Hers was a face and body that were meant to be seen.
Leigh knew that, if she wanted to, with her ice-like skin, she could fade into the water and vanish from human sight.
Or at least she could have, if it weren’t for all these lights. And all the crew looking to her so intently for instruction.
And Maddi. Who was gracefully dancing in the water, stretching her arms and legs like an aquatic ballerina. Her flowing dress, that was nothing like the streamlined, aerodynamic clothes of Leigh’s culture, both tangled around her limbs and flowed out like a halo around her. Done up like she was, Maddi was undeniably beautiful. Like some snow angel come to life.
Yeah, Leigh understood why they’d picked Maddi Franks for this shoot. She may not look like an actual ice elemental, but she looked exactly like what every fairytale and cartoon winter special thought they should. She was the perfect sales pitch for the resort and the travel magazine.
And, to top it all off, they’d hired Leigh, who’d made a bit of a name for herself on the indie circuit, documenting her people’s homes and culture by diving deep beneath the ice or climbing high atop mountains where most humans wouldn’t—couldn’t—dare.
It was the perfect pairing.
For them.
Most of Leigh’s friends, and even her family, didn’t understand why she’d taken this job. It was one thing to take jobs shooting models in skiwear on slopes or figure skaters mid-routine. It was quite another to take money to take pictures of some blond-haired, blue-eyed human girl wading around, pretending to be one of them. Perpetuating the idea that they were nothing more than a bunch of spritely Jack Frosts and babydoll sugar plum fairies.
If she was honest, Leigh wasn’t sure why she’d taken the job either. Except, that this could be her chance. To break out of the indie circles into the mainstream. It could be the path that would lead her to bigger and better opportunities. That could lead to a point where her passions—ones where she called the shots and got to cast and work exactly how she wanted to, without say or interference from anyone else—paid for themselves.
But at what price?
Leigh noticed Maddi sign. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “You’re doing great. Keep going.”
Maddi shook her head. “Thanks. But are you okay?”
Leigh smiled. “I’m fine.” She looked up at the fading light through the ice. “But I think it’s time to call it a day. Do you need help getting back to the surface?”
Maddi shook her head. Looking much more comfortable now than when she’d first jumped into the lake, she turned toward the guide line. “See you back up there. It was fun working with you. Thank you.”
Leigh nodded, watching her climb the line before turning to help the crew lug weighted lights and equipment back to the surface. It took a while to get everything inside and dry and, after all that work, her crew wanted nothing more than to relax with a meal and a beer in the resort bar. Usually, Leigh would join them, even if as an ice elemental she didn’t really eat or drink. She still enjoyed the camaraderie at the end of a hard day.
But, tonight, she just wanted to hide in her room and start editing the photos. The sooner she could finish this job and get paid, the sooner she could head off on her next passion project.
Not that this job had been terrible. In fact, she’d gotten a few amazing shots. After hearing Maddi’s modeling philosophy, Leigh had felt irresistibly inspired. She wanted to tell Maddi’s story. Wanted to whittle away what she saw through her viewfinder until she saw Maddi’s truth.
And, looking at the elegant yet daring confidence in her eyes, in the glacier grace of her expression, even if Maddi didn’t look like an ice elemental, Leigh liked to think that, in those photos, she felt like one. Held herself like one.
Leigh wanted to tweak the photos. Not too much. Just fiddle with the light and colors a bit, to really bring out that side of Maddi.
But, try as she might, she just couldn’t focus, feeling cooped up in her room. It didn’t help that the resort’s Wi-Fi wasn’t great. Not that Leigh had expected it to be, this high up on the mountain and not in the windy snow now whipping outside.
Grabbing her laptop, she headed out into the hallway to see if she could find a better signal somewhere in the hotel. She tiptoed past the other rooms; she was almost certain everyone was still eating and drinking in the restaurant, but she figured it was better to be polite, just in case someone wanted to head to sleep early. She made her way past the hot tubs and the pool. She wove through the front desk and foyer areas.
But it was the library, of course, that provided her enough signal to work.
She was just about to settle in the large easy chair in the corner, when she noticed Maddi sitting in an oversized sweater next to the window with a steaming mug in her hands. “Hi.”
Leigh nodded. “You didn’t go to dinner with the others?”
Maddi sipped. “Spend a whole day in front of a camera...” She shrugged. “It kinda makes you need some time with no one looking at you.” She winced. “No offense.”
Leigh laughed at the woman’s unfiltered thoughts. “None taken. My family’s from the deeper Great Lakes area. As you know, signing can be a blunt language. Suffice to say, mild midwestern manners weren’t really something I was raised with.”
Maddi giggled too. “I’ve noticed.” When Leigh began to reflexively apologize, Maddi stopped her. “It’s nice. To not have to guess what you mean and just trust what you say. It made working with you easy.” She craned her neck to look at Leigh’s screen. “Are those the pictures?”
Leigh nodded. “Do you want to see?”
* * *
Leigh was so talented. Maddi watched her click through the photos and just marveled at what she’d done. What they’d done together.
Maddi hardly recognized the figure in the photos, so much more regal and refined than she’d ever felt in her entire life. While she remembered shuddering from the cold, the figure defiantly clung to jagged underwater icicles. Even though Maddi was sure she’d slipped and stumbled over the frozen layer of lake, the figure looked ready to shatter it. It was a gorgeous struggle between being unreservedly who you are while also longing for what you can never be.
But one thing still bothered Maddi. “I still don’t look like an ice elemental; doesn’t that bother you?” It had to. She imagined it would, if she were Leigh. “If the magazine or the hotel wanted to create this elemental winter wonderland, why not use an ice elemental model?” She looked at Leigh. “I mean, you’re right here. Why weren’t you the one in the pictures instead of me?”
Leigh laughed. “You said it yourself, those are two very different skillsets. I’m pretty sure I learned how to take pictures just so I wouldn’t have to be in them. Tough to be on camera, if you’re always the one behind them.”
Okay, Maddi understood that. “But then why not another ice elemental?”
Tilting her head one way then the other, Leigh bit her lip thoughtfully. “Modeling is a tough business to be in, if you’re different. It can be hard to get jobs when no one is looking for someone who looks like you. I would love to work on jobs with more diverse casting but, until the industry changes, I can’t afford to be choosy. Not and be able to support myself.”
Leigh shook her head. “Plus, even if you do manage to get the job as a diversity hire, often you get treated differently on set. Like everyone thinks the only reason why you got the job was to meet some politically correct quota. You never feel like people believe you’ve earned what you’ve worked for. That you belong where you are.” She sniffed dismissively. “Which is part of why, while there are a few breakout magical stars—an angel, a centaur, a shapeshifter—they’re rare. And ice elementals, given our temperature and regional preferences, are even more niche in this business; it’s simply cheaper and easier for companies to hire regular models and fix them in post.”
Maddi smirked and shot Leigh a teasing look. “But they can afford ice elemental photographers?”
Chuckling low, Leigh shrugged. “This is just one of my jobs. Mostly, I do nature shots in locations that most regular photographers can’t or won’t.” She sighed and frowned. “But I’m pretty sure I was a diversity hire. A way to deflect any accusation of...” She shook her head. “Controversy.”
Of racism. Or specism. Or something. Maddi could see that. After all, if she was feeling guilty about playacting Leigh’s people, she could only imagine how these photos might be taken once let loose in the wider world. She wanted to groan and kick herself for not thinking about this before agreeing to the job. Whatever her dreams, no matter how much she wanted them, Maddi didn’t want to get them at the expense of someone else.
Not that there was much to be done now. The pictures were taken and they were, potential controversy or not, beautiful. She shrugged. “So they’ll just fix me in post, huh?” Make her the ice elemental she couldn’t be. She gave an awkward laugh, holding her mug tighter. “I wish they could have done the same with the location; it’s freezing.”
Leigh sighed, looking out the window at the snow falling in fat flakes outside, and shook her head. “You can’t fake this place. Land like this is perfect, trying to filter or alter it through any kind of editing would just ruin it.”
Maddi looked at Leigh, saw the reverence in her clear eyes. “Maybe deflection is a nice benefit, but I don’t think that’s why they hired you.” She smiled and looked back at Leigh’s screen. “The way you look at things—at people and places—is amazing.” Maybe modeling was harder for people who looked like Leigh, but, for people who could look like she did, who saw the world the way she did, it was the perfect profession. She had a way of looking at things that felt unique and unseen before. “That’s why you were hired.” Not for what she was, but for who she was.
Maddi definitely saw steam rise from Leigh’s cheeks when she blushed this time. “Thank you.” She smiled and bit her lip, her teeth not so much sinking into the hard, shined skin as sliding sleekly against it. “It, uh, helps when you have an amazing subject.”
Maddi licked her lips and wondered what it would feel like to press a kiss against that mouth. She wondered if they could fog up the whole room with the heat of it. She imagined that Leigh’s skin would be as cold as the lake’s frozen surface, and just as smooth. She wanted to slide her body against it, feeling her heat meet and melt. She leaned in, feeling that steam mist up to touch her skin. “Thank you.”
* * *
“Wait!”
Leigh couldn’t believe the word had escaped her lips. What was wrong with her? Maddy Franks, the most beautiful woman she’d ever met, wanted to kiss her. And she’d said no?!
Maddi backed off instantly, scuttling back to give Leigh space. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I should have asked. I just thought.” Her words were a mad spill of sounds. She shook her head. “I must have misread what was happening. I thought we were having a moment. And I thought you were so beautiful and you kept saying that you thought that I was beautiful.” She shook her head again. “I mean, I know that’s your job, but I thought.” She let out a miserable sound and winced. “Oh God, and the things I thought! I mean, yes, you’re gorgeous, so sleek and slick, but I’m pretty sure, in my head, I was fetishizing you.” She frowned, her face scrunching up in doubt. “I’m so sorry.”
Leigh shook her head. Wait, what? Maddi was fetishizing her? On one hand, Leigh really wanted to know what Maddi was thinking but, on the other, who cared?
Maddi Franks was apologizing for finding her attractive. Leigh let that thought sink in for a satisfying moment. “Don’t be sorry. Please.” The most beautiful woman she’d ever met thought she was beautiful. She didn’t know—couldn’t have any idea—but that idea floored Leigh.
Leigh had spent most of her life hiding. In frozen lakes and ponds. Under a thick sheet of ice. Even after her people came out of their wintry shadows into the world, Leigh never felt really seen.
Growing up knowing she looked different, knowing she was different, from the majority of people in the world, it’d been hard to see herself well. Since she’d never seen a face like hers on TV or in books or teaching at schools or anywhere outside her small community, it’d become crystal clear that the world just wasn’t ready to see her yet. So she’d stayed invisible. She’d learned how to look keenly, so as to never be seen.
Leigh looked up at Maddi looking at her. Seeing her. And it was awkward and uncomfortable.
And amazing.
Excitement fluttered inside her. She could see nerves and thrills and shame heat her skin, wafting in a heavy mist about her. And though it felt strange, she reached for Maddi’s hand. “Please, don’t be sorry.”
She felt the warmth of it. The soft give of Maddi’s flesh and the strength of her bones beneath it. She felt herself slick against Maddi’s palms, but she just gripped tighter. “I have this rule about not getting involved with my models.” She shook her head. “It can affect how I see them and cloud my judgment. I can’t be involved with someone and remain objective.” It sounded so lame. Leigh peeked up at Maddi. “I’m sorry.”
Maddi sat back on her haunches, putting some thoughtful distance between them, even as she held tight to Leigh’s hand. “So you can’t get involved with a model you’re photographing because it makes you lose perspective?” She nodded. “Okay.” She looked down at their entwined hands before meeting Leigh’s gaze again. “But, after the photos are done, can you?”
Leigh smiled. “I’d love to.”
Beaming, Maddi coughed and stood. “Well, then I guess I’d better be going, huh? Let you work.” She loosened the grip she had on Leigh’s hand.
But Leigh held tight. “You don’t have to go. I wasn’t chasing you away.”
Maddi shook her head. “I don’t want to disturb you. I understand if you want to be left alone. I can go, if you want.”
Leigh squeezed Maddi’s hand. “Please stay.”
Maddi raise a hopeful eyebrow. “You sure?”
Leigh nodded and watched Maddi move to sit down by the window again. It got cold by the glass, she knew. So she reached behind her for the blanket resting on the back of the chair before sweeping it over Maddi’s shoulders. She let her hands linger over that sweet sweep before moving back to her easy chair, where she could admire Maddi staring out into the snow storm. She sighed with satisfaction, glad she’d taken a chance on this job. “I’m sure.”
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