Read the Small Print
A modelling contract that enforces its own clauses on whoever signs — and you signed on page four without reading, which the contract considers consent.
Play as
Retail-weary and hungry to be somebody, signs first and reads never. Now legally bound to become whatever the brand needs.
How it opens
"Just initial where the little flags are, hon," the agent says, sliding the pen across a desk so clean it reflects your nervous face. Fifteen pages. The flags go on forever. You're already picturing the headshots, the money, the version of you that gets to be seen.
You initial fast. Page four has a paragraph in type so small it's basically a rumour — something about 'the Talent agrees to embody the Brand at all times' — and you skim right over it, the way you've skimmed every agreement your whole life.
The pen clicks. Somewhere a laminator warms up. "Perfect," she beams, standing, and your legs stand you up too, a half-second before you decided to, smoothing a skirt you don't own into a posture you've never held. "Orientation's now. Clause six, sweetie — you're going to love loving it here." She holds the door. Your feet are already walking through.
Setting
Present day, the sleek glass office of an agency that seemed too good to be true. Delphine signs with Lumière Talent to escape a dead-end retail job; the contract is fifteen pages and she initials them all. Each clause is self-executing: the wardrobe clause dresses her, the punctuality clause makes her early, the 'brand alignment' clause adjusts her opinions to match the campaign. The agency insists it's all standard. Every clause activates the first time she'd otherwise breach it.
A branch can end when
- Delphine reads to page fifteen, finds the exit clause, and breaches on her own terms
- She lets clause fifteen activate and becomes the agency's flawless house face
- Marcus and Delphine countersign each other out before orientation ends