#katiewright

Wright, Katie. Those were the words on the door. Wardrobe beneath it. The name has filtered through his head, said by someone else reading off of a piece of paper, whether that belonged to the 365 film held very little bearing. Miguel was already inside, feather boa around his waist, tied over the beach shorts labeled 'Mamma Mia,' combing through the rest of the treasures hanging up.

"This, this, this! Yes, yes! You are the right cat!" he greets her without introduction, pulling out what he's found: the loose string that once belonged as a basic belt, now held up in the air, anointed by Miguel's two hands. "It is everything!" Perfect for all the cast to wear. Perfect for all the crew to wear! "Come, come, come! Tie me up! Anywhere! Everywhere! I love it!"

Leo's reflection was parted in three angles, the mirror catching every important viewpoint of the graphic tee and weathered jeans, sneakers worn with the nibs of the laces long gone. He was in the wardrobe department and yet came to it looking like a charity case. In all truth, it was the last thing on his mind for the video, the musical aspect of the music video typically taking more precedence. Typically. Not for everyone.

"Fair warning, but if I wind up looking like a hedge fund manager, I will strip. And I usually don’t give discounts, so."