–––– la vie est belle. ––––

ABOUT:

Full Name: Camille Jolie André 

Nickname: Cami

Age/DOB: 31 / October 4, 1990

Zodiac Sign: Libra ☼ Taurus ☾ Pisces ↑

Gender: Cis Female

Place of Birth: Toulouse, France

Arrondissement: Élysée ( 8th )

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: Bisexual / Biromantic

Religion: Catholic

Occupation: Model for Voeux / Owner of Cheval et Châteaux

Despite her tender-hearted nature, it had never been very easy for Camille to emote or open up to others. From a young age, she had learned that vulnerability was a sign of weakness. The public eye would always have something to say if you gave them reason to doubt you or your abilities, and they would always use them against you. 

While lending an ear or shoulder to cry on came rather naturally to the model, Camille had found it difficult to ignore her parents’ warning signs or follow her own advice. That is, until her brother’s death gave her no other choice but to seek the help of a therapist. 

For the past six months, she had worked alongside Leon, opening up about her grief, as well as the many challenges she’d faced throughout childhood. Her dyslexia, her parents’ unreasonable expectations, and even the fact that she had begun to despise her career. While a professional relationship through and through, nobody had ever known the woman so intimately. She had never allowed anyone to see into these parts of her brain or been so vulnerable with another human being. 

“I just wish that my brother would talk to me, you know? We were so close before Sébastien passed away, but then he up and left the country. I can’t imagine how difficult it would be to lose a twin, but it feels as though I’ve lost both of my siblings... not just one.”  As she leaned herself back into the leather seat, Camille’s gaze drifted from Leon to the window and back again. Outside, the storm had already begun to pick up and she could hear the wind whistling through the trees. “Sorry, I’m distracted. It’s getting bad out there. I can’t believe we’re getting this much snow in March.”

Although Camille wasn’t easily intimidated by industry events, tonight’s party hosted by Vogue France was a bit of a different story. Being associated, in any way, with the prestigious fashion magazine felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity and while she was sure to have to put up with some of the world’s most vapid and egocentric individuals, it finally seemed worth the potential reward.

In an effort to blend in amongst the crowd of socialites, designers and fashion extraordinaires, Camille had dressed herself from head-to-toe in her trendiest designer clothing. And from the plethora of guests who she had managed to network with, her effort hadn’t gone to waste. That is, at least, until a clutzy cocktail waitress backed into her arm, spilling a fountain of red wine down the front of her white Chanel blazer. 

With a loud gasp, Camille’s mouth fell open, her body frozen in fear that one wrong move would worsen the potential staining. Or worse –– she would draw even more attention to herself and the fact that even after years of practice and exposure, she was truly still a fish out of water.

The thought of adopting a horse was exciting to Lida. It was the only constant hobby of her’s that brought genuine joy to her life. Therefore, it was her end goal to make this happen. She was grateful that she had Camille’s help to bring it into fruition. At first Lida had assumed that she may have to head into the countryside frequently, but having connections to the model’s establishment worked in her favour. “Likewise, I feel like a kid again getting her first toy ever.” mused the Senol heiress with a laugh. “Oh please Camille, I will drop everything except my daughter just to spend time with you. However, I will agree this is a perfect time for each other. We get a BREAK from reality.” 

 A sigh of relief escaped Lida’s lips as soon as the model accepted their fate with the Elysée dinner parties. “We’re in this shit together. I refuse to let you all suffer under their gaze. I get they come from old money, but times are changing and also a majority of them aren’t getting any younger. They’re bound to YOU KNOW…not matter anymore.” The heiress was known for her blunt and straightforward attitude, but it came with the territory. It was a dog-eat-dog world after all. 

Approaching one of the horses, Lida carefully reached out and mimicked Camille’s movements, “Bonjour Ace…God, he’s beautiful…”  Her gaze immediately softened as the horse was receptive to her touch. “You and I both…I just know the more I frequent this place, the more I’ll grow attached. Hey, if you ever need anything for all this by the way…Do let me know. I can assist in any way possible.”

───

Camille had always had such an admiration for Lida. Not only as a businesswoman, but as a mother as well. She had always been sure to keep her daughter a priority, and that was something the model wished that her mother had done for reasons beyond her own selfish desires. “You’re horrible. In the best way possible,” she teased with a grin. In a lot of ways, she was sure that relevance was one of the things that mattered most. Nobody wanted to be forgotten after they were gone. They wanted to leave behind a legacy. “You’re right, though, and I can’t stand their entitlement. I’m sick of being put under a microscope. This is truly the one place I feel I can get away from it all and be myself.”

Camille was excited to share her happy place with Lida, knowing that the other woman could appreciate it just as much. It made her happy to know that Cheval et Châteaux bettered the lives of not only the animals they sheltered, but those who visited as well. “Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised at all! And we have more than just old Ace here. I’m sure that throughout your visits you’ll find the absolute best fit for you. I truly appreciate the offer, but you should know by now that I’m more than happy just to have you around, mon amie.”

       Adrien’s plan worked; to forget all things that revolved around pain this time of year, and just to enjoy himself amongst the company of others. To forget.. or rather, distract himself. Though, he appeared to spend a little too much time at the bar that evening.. Very much inebriated at this point, his demeanour came across a little more confident and boisterous than usual as he turned to face the familiar blonde with sheer joy and affection. It was a pleasant surprise, to say the least, given they’d only recently reunited and, he hadn’t exactly expected to run into her. “Well, if it isn’t Camille Andre herself,” his lips curve into a contagious smile as he stands tall, cheeks flushed as he moved to give her the customary double kiss. “For you, never.” Pulling out the stool beside him, he waits for the blonde to take a seat before sitting back down on his own. “You here avoiding all that Saint Valentine has to offer, too?” 

───

Though it typically took the woman quite a while to open up and show her true colours, interacting with Adrien had become rather effortless after their last encounter. It was quite easy to see that the man was of pure intentions and something about their personalities just seemed to click. 

With a rather satisfied grin, Camille slid herself onto the stool beside him before flagging down the bartender for another refill. “If I’m being honest, I’m not. In fact, I think the holiday is rather sweet. But after a long weekend of work, I really just wanted to get out and enjoy the evening before it all comes to an end. I’m also avoiding the tourists. How about you? Feeling bitter this Valentine’s Day?”

A commotion in the cafe caught his attention and he glanced over to watch a couple in the midst of a proposal. A piece of him ached for something like that; the same part of him that found himself staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night, alone. But the cynic in him believed that the couple would likely grow to either hate one another or they’d be subject to a passionless marriage akin to the ones his own parents had. All in all, he was caught in the middle of rolling his eyes at the display when a feminine voice rose up amidst the cheers of the cafe. 

Her golden hair caught his eye first before he studied her features with all the intensity that he usually brought to his conversations. He was an intense man in general and it sometimes turned others off to him but he found that his introspection couldn’t be switched off; it was just who he was. “That?” He gestured over to the couple who were grinning at each other, his eyes lingering over the happiness in their eyes, feeling an emptiness in his own chest in comparison. “Sure. If you like cliches and romance that probably won’t last long. As for how long they’ve been together, I wouldn’t expect more than a few years at the most.” Surely not too long. 

───

Camille shouldn’t have expected a man to share the same appreciation for love or Valentine’s Day. While some could be romantic, it was often on their own terms and only when they were the ones involved. With a small sigh, the blonde couldn’t help but laugh as she shook her head in disapproval. “Sure, proposals on Valentine’s Day might be a little overdone, but I still think it’s sweet.” Taking the time to check for a ring, her blue eyes glanced down at the man’s ring finger, only to find it bare as she’d previously suspected.

“Let me guess. You’re single and you hate this holiday because it perhaps one of the biggest reminders of your current relationship status?” Raising her brow, she challenged the stranger with a playful smirk before following line as it moved forward two feet. Though she was probably being a little bold in her assumptions, Camille found herself rather entertained by his cynicism. 

The snow had finally melted and the temperature had grown mild with the changing months. Spring was finally in the air and Camille couldn’t have been happier to see some greenery again. Winter always felt dark and dismal, amplifying her emotions in tenfold. It was one of the main reasons she had always chosen to decorate her home with a variety of plants and flowers.

This weekend, however, seemed like the perfect time for a project that would bring that colour back outdoors. A way to both work on the curb appeal of her home and draw customers into Cheval et Châteaux with some bright and beautiful flowerbeds. 

As she entered L’or Vert, the blonde greeted Emmett with a friendly “bonjour!” before allowing her eyes to scan the walls of the shop. Knowing that the first items on her list were bags of fresh soil and mulch, Camille grabbed a cart and wheeled it down the aisle until she stopped at a skid piled high with bags of the cedar woodchips. 

While she probably should have thought to ask for assistance, the model had grown rather confident in her upper body strength after a year of working long hours at the stables. Saddles and hay bales certainly weren’t the lightest things to be lifting and she hadn’t expected the mulch to be any different until her actions caused the perfectly stacked piles to tumble to the ground like an involuntary game of Jenga. 

With a loud gasp, the blonde looked toward the shopkeeper, heart racing with anxiety as she awaited their reaction. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. Please allow me to clean this up. I’ll even pay for the bag that broke.”

It’s nice that she still runs into people that don’t pose as sour memories lingering on her tongue. New York, LA, London — there are places there she can’t step foot in, streets that have giant, ugly red marks across the signs deterring her away because she’s got a past there that she doesn’t want to revisit or have trailing in her shadows. There are people she’s blocked for the most trivial things, because they service as reminders she does not want. It’s nice that Paris isn’t so far removed from what she knows at the end of the day. 

It means that she can still feel like she has an iota of control over her life, and not the kind that she gets when she’s backed into a corner and faced with a fight or flight ultimatum. Things still feel somewhat like they’re supposed to.

Even though she’s kind of shot that all to hell.

The memory floods her brain, fuzzy and alcohol soaked and yet still glistening with the vision of the Olsen twins in a dark room, shoes that pinched her feet, and a blonde wearing a distinct perfume that Victoria found herself sidled up next to in a debate at the bar about whether or not approaching Mary Kate and Ashley with age old, childhood burning questions would result in them getting bounced from the party.

“Guilty as charged,” Victoria admits, and she can’t fight the amused grin that sprawls across her face. “Hey — if they didn’t want to talk through their beyond stellar filmography, they wouldn’t have entertained it as long as they did. I still think you were this close to cracking one of them and getting all the dirt.” It’s a memory and a smile that eases her into something familiar. “Do you live here full time? With the…” It slips her for a brief second, and then returns with another intent look at the woman in front of her. Earth shatteringly gorgeous. Only one answer to that. “Modeling, isn’t it?”

───

Admittedly, it was nice to see a friendly face. To be reminded of happier times on an otherwise dismal morning. Victoria had put Camille at ease from the start, charming her with the most down to earth conversation she’d ever had at such an exclusive event. Typically, attendees would have gone out of their way to impress other guests or avoid embarrassment, at the very least. But in the brunette’s case, she had been unapologetically herself. 

“You know, it was probably for the best. I’m not entirely sure I was ready to ruin my childhood.” With a small chuckle, the blonde nodded in response to Victoria’s follow-up question. “I’ve lived in France my entire life. Paris, since I was young. But judging by your accent and what I remember hearing at the party, I assume you're new here. I was just on my way to grab a coffee. Do you need somebody to show you around?”

       Adrien nodded. There was so much he wanted to say to her; and it was probably written all over his features, but he said nothing. Now wasn’t the time, and he wasn’t about to make her feel uncomfortable when he didn’t know her well enough to know if she was up for talking about likely one of the greatest pains in her life. “It really does.. our fathers have been working together so long, it almost feels like we should be, too,” he chuckles, offering the blonde a warm smile that reaches his eyes as he adds, “Which by the way, congratulations to your father on his new position. I know my old man is very happy to be working alongside him.” Being that Adrien knew little about how their positions came to be, his approach in congratulating was genuine. “Can I get you something to drink before we begin?” 

───

At the mention of her father, Camille’s eyes darted toward the ground. It was difficult to know just how much Adrien knew, or whether or not he was fishing to find out the same thing. Figuring that it was best to play things off innocently, the blonde forced a smile back onto her lips and met his gaze with a nod. “He’s certainly honored to have been trusted with such an important position. My father has always wanted the best for France and I’m sure that your uncle shares a similar passion.”

Though she had always been good at reading others’ intentions, Adrien wasn’t quite as straight forward. She believed him to have a kind heart and genuine personality, but knew how easily family could influence poor decisions firsthand. “Some water would be great, thank you.”

“No problem,” Mallory said, waving off any praise. She mostly doing this out of curiosities sake, anyway. Nothing to praise her about as far as she was concerned. Coming around to the trunk, Mallory lifted up the pad the covered the spare and the jack, nodding in acknowledgement to the woman’s question. Do you want to grab the tire? Keep a hold of it. And, I’ll have you hold the bolts, too.” Better than running the risk of losing them somewhere in the middle of the street.

Camille. Did the name ring a bell? Maybe, but this was also Paris. She could walk onto any crowded street corner, and she was sure at least three girls would share that name. But, still, her face seemed familiar. “Maybe? Though who knows, right? It’s a big city, maybe I’m just imaging things.” She got to work on the tire, glancing back up at the woman. “I’m Mallory.”

───

Though many people may have assumed that Camille would struggle with the weight of the tire, years of horseback riding had certainly helped her upper body strength. Saddles weren’t light by any means and neither were the hay bales she often had to lug into the stable. 

Securing her arms around the large rubber tire, she lifted it out of the trunk and lowered it down onto the ground, where she further secured it between her feet. While the name was certainly familiar, Camille couldn’t quite place where she’d heard it before. Though it wasn’t quite as common as her own, she had met a handful of people who shared the same name. Especially working within the fashion industry. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mallory. You don’t happen to have any ties to modelling or fashion, do you? Or maybe you’re an equestrian?”

Nights were always the hardest. The time of day when Camille felt most alone. When grief and anxiety seemed to fill every unoccupied crevice of her brain. While she enjoyed living alone and didn’t even mind the fact that she was single, it was times like this that she almost wished she wasn’t. Nights like this made her crave a distraction, and what better way to fulfill those desires than immerse herself in a social setting?

As the bouncer stepped back to allow Camille inside of the night club, she took one long look around the room before proceeding toward the bar. Seeing as it was a weeknight, Le Rouge certainly wasn’t as busy as it was on weekends and Fridays. But when her main goal of the evening was chatting with her favorite bartender, she couldn’t have asked for a better scenario. 

Pulling up a stool in front of her friend, Camille greeted the man with playful smile. “My usual, please, and keep them coming. It’s been one hell of a week.” 

       A knowing smile crossed Meliha’s features as she flicked the lighter and brought it to her lips. She’d always been a social smoker herself, but ever since arriving in Paris, she’d gotten more and more comfortable herself. “Oh, it’s almost difficult not to be in Paris,” she smirks as she moves to clink her glass of wine with Camille’s. “To a hell of a lot more early mornings together.” As the crimson liquid courses down her throat, she begins to wonder if wine with lunch, too, will soon be force of habit. There’s an air of relaxation about Parisian lunch times she hasn’t quite felt anywhere else. Truthfully, she could get used to this. “Oh, please.. you’re tall and exquisite, and all the poses come so naturally to you! You were made for it.. me, on the other hand? The photographer would hate me.” Laughter spills from her lips at that thought, knowing she’d genuinely be way too stiff and moody. “Have you always wanted to be a model?” 

───

For almost as long as she could remember, Camille had been told that the camera loved her – that she was a natural. And while modelling was about more than just beauty, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was society or her mother’s weighted expectations that had shaped those ‘talents’ rather than any alternative. Forcing a smile onto her lips, the blonde took a long drag from her cigarette as she pondered over Mila’s next words. 

She had no reason to be dishonest with her friend, but maybe the person she had truly been dishonest with was herself. “No, honestly.” Camille paused, avoiding the woman’s gaze as she spoke. “I don’t know that I ever really wanted to be a model. It just happened. It was my mother’s dream more than it was mine, but I’m good at it and I’m not sure I would have had the talent or ambition to pursue anything more rewarding.”

date: saturday, february 12 location: matamata’s vendor stand time: 4:00 pm

Nothing quite brightened Camille’s day like the thought of grabbing an iced coffee from her favorite cafe. Especially on a day like today. Despite the fact that she was without a lover, the blonde had always thoroughly enjoyed the holiday. Not because people needed a special occasion in order to appreciate their loved ones, but because it was hard to deny the fact that love was in the air. 

As she waited in the rather long line, Camille couldn’t help but notice a proposal happening nearby. Although the concept itself was perhaps a little overdone, it was rather difficult for the woman not to gush in adoration as the couple shared a heartfelt kiss. For all she knew, they were on the trip of their dreams, or even celebrating an anniversary. Turning her attention to the man in line behind her, she thought aloud. “Isn’t that so romantic? I don’t know about you, but I just love Valentine’s Day. How long do you think they’ve been together?”

date: sunday, february 13 location: valentine’s day carnival time: 8:00 pm

The adoption event had been rather successful and Camille was overjoyed by the number of animals that had found their forever homes over the weekend. While the upcoming week was sure to be a busy one, there was satisfaction in knowing that tomorrow would lend her a much-needed day off, and there was no better way to celebrate the end of the festival than by finally hitting up the carnival. 

As she made her way through the Parc du Champs de Mars, the woman watched as vendors began packing up their tents and loading products and merchandise into their vehicles. It was rather bittersweet seeing things come to an end. Events like this always seemed to bring out the best in people, creating a community environment and uniting the many arrondissements of Paris, rather than creating a divide. 

Just as Camille neared the end of the row, she spotted Gabriel’s familiar face and took off toward him, greeting her newfound friend with excitement. Though she hadn’t planned on attending the carnival alone, neither Victoria nor Lida had been been able to join her and the amusement rides wouldn’t be quite the same on her own. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite bookworm! How did things go this weekend? Did you charm many women into buying romance novels with that handsome face of yours?” she chuckled, playfully.

date: sunday, february 13 location: grocery store time: 3:00 pm

Sunday always seemed like the perfect opportunity for a grocery run. Not only because it signified the beginning of a new week, but because Camille knew that she wasn’t going to have to coax herself back out of the house after a busy work day. The week’s meals were always pre-planned and ready to prepare so that she wouldn’t have to make any last minute decisions or be tempted by take-out.

Despite the fact that she was single, Valentine’s Day seemed like an excuse to go all out. It was a holiday that had always made her feel warm and fuzzy. And she had decided early on that it wasn’t always about celebrating romantic love. Friendship and self-love were just as important. 

As she perused the produce aisle, in search of the nicest looking potatoes, her blue eyes were immediately drawn to the half-naked cupid blocking her path. While it took Camille only a second or two to identify him, she wasn’t quite sure what to say or where to look. But the rather large eggplant in Luca’s hand, certainly didn’t help the less than innocent thoughts that were invading her mind. “You know, I could probably make a lot of sexual innuendos right now, but if they’ve hired you in hopes to boost eggplant sales... It might just be working.”