rkee-tmbr - Tumblr blog

rkee-tmbr · 2 years ago

Text

Thanks for the mention! I may be late, but I will definitely read it!✨

chances

CH 2: VOGUE PT. II

plot: American photographer Leah Walker is ecstatic when she’s presented with the opportunity to spend the summer of 1975 in Stockport, UK to take photographs of local English groups. Given her history of taking photos of big acts such as The Rolling Stones and The Doors, she is taken by surprise when told that her first clients will be the up and coming Manchester-based group, 10cc, who have kept a low-profile until recently, after gaining worldwide stardom from their hit I’m Not In Love. Leah knows little about the group and gets acquainted fairly quickly, but what she doesn’t know is how much trouble she’s about to get herself into with the group’s beloved lead guitarist, Eric Stewart. She has all summer, come to think of it. The possibilities are endless.

themes: a whole lotta fluff 🍦, some flirting, Graham Gouldman is an absolute babe 🥰, musicians? models? why not both?, a little taste of 10cc talent, curious Eric, concerned Eric, begging, begging, lots of begging, flustered Leah

a/n: The much anticipated sequel to Chapter 2! The boys finally get their beauty shots in this concluding chapter and I threw in some extra stuff to make things a bit spicy.

I hope you fancy this tune as much as I do.

The Canon F-1. With its slick black finish, solid body, portability and relatively user-friendly settings, it is the perfect camera for the fastidious photographer. I received this camera as a birthday gift from my father last year, and it has since become my trusted companion. I diligently study the device. Even though I had checked earlier to make sure there is a new roll of film in place, I perform another check for good measure. I unlock the back compartment and gander at the film–it is undamaged, secure and ready for use. I only snapped a few photos earlier, so I should have an adequate amount of film remaining. I proceed to close it then take out my external flash device and mount it on the camera accordingly. I was being proactive the night before departing for this trip and had attached the appropriate lens I intend on using so it would be one less thing for me to worry about. I bring the camera strap over my head and allow it to rest along the back of my neck. For my peace of mind, I check to ensure that the strap is securely fastened to the device itself–with the camera strap attached, I can freely move about without worrying that I will drop the device. I’ve learned this from past mistakes.

I hoist myself up off the floor, clutching my camera and gracefully marching over to the stage where the men have congregated. I begin to pace along the perimeter and, smiling as I heed their indistinguishable banter. Oh the joys of trying to understand men with silly accents..

I pause along center stage and turn my attention to Lol, who is scrupulously combing Eric’s hair with his fingers. I bring a hand over my mouth to hide my amusement at this fascinating interaction.

“Ouch! Lol stop it, you’re hurting me!” Eric scowls at Lol, dodging Lol’s grip as he attempts to grab a hold of his hair.

“Oh Eric Stewart, how could I ever tire of touching your long, silky smooth hair?” Lol speaks in a feminine tone, a seemingly exaggerated imitation of a woman smitten by a charming man. He bats his eyes jokingly at Eric.

Eric playfully rolls his eyes and chuckles, “you’re mad, Creme.”

“Mad for you, Eric Stewart.” Lol grins widely at Eric, gently patting his back.

Eric whispers into Lol’s ear and the two chuckle. Their faces are beaming. Eric smiles timidly, seemingly deep in thought. He brings his head down, his bangs falling gently over the corners of his eyes. Lol follows Eric with his eyes. He smiles genially at him, his dimples growing more prominent. I swiftly turn the flash off the camera and quickly zoom in on their faces and snap a picture. And they barely even noticed..With my impressive muscle memory, my thumb immediately clicks the advancing lever to rotate the film.

I glance over at Graham and Kevin who appear to be mindlessly fiddling around with their instruments. I stroll casually towards Graham and Kevin’s side of the stage and observe them keenly.

Graham flawlessly transitions from tuning his bass to fiddling with the instrument, skillfully producing a random tune–a tune I can hardly recognize, but one with a catchy rhythm. I take the opportunity to make small talk with him.

“Hi. Would you mind playing me something?” My lips twist into a smile off the corner of my mouth as I gaze up at him. This is a little business tactic I’ve acquired from years of doing photography: get them to be comfortable around you then strike while the iron is hot!

Making small talk with each of them will allow me the chance to familiarize myself with their personalities and establish some sort of rapport with them. I find that this is the best way for me to build a trusting relationship with my clients, no matter how long or short our working relationship is.

My intention is to make this a comfortable atmosphere for everyone. For Graham, Kevin, Eric and Lol. I want them to be genuine, raw, unashamed and confident around me. I speak from experience when I say that the best candid shots I’ve ever taken are the ones where my clients go about their business without regarding my presence. This is what I hope to achieve with these boys today.

Graham gives me a smug look as he flips his gorgeous curls, “well what do you want to hear?”

“Surprise me.”

“Ok. But you have to tell me the name of the song afterwards.” he chuckles, smirking at me.

“Fair game.” I retort with confidence. I am by no means a musician. But I’ve been exposed to them enough to be able to recognize certain bass lines and guitar riffs common in today’s popular music.

Graham begins to pluck away at the opening bass line. I attend with patient ears, while simultaneously being mindful and prepared to capture his best picture perfect moments. At this point in time, I cannot pinpoint which particular song he’s playing the bass line of, but I give him a moment to build up to it.

I take this opportunity to appreciate Graham’s features once again now that we’re in a more intimate setting. His sleepy eyes are fixed on each fret his expert fingers land on. He plays rather effortlessly yet diligently, ensuring not one chord is missed. He gazes studiously at each fret of his beloved instrument, knowing fully well he could quite possibly hit each chord perfectly without having to gander at where his fingers land on the bass neck. However, he maintains modesty in displaying his talent–a rather admirable attribute. My eyes fixate on his prominent jawline. I notice the way he clenches his jaw ever so subtly as he focuses on his task–a seemingly typical male mannerism that never fails to instill strong emotions in me. His thick, jet black curls show lustrous against the studio light. I never thought lengthy eyelashes could suit a man, but dear Graham has clearly defied all odds.

With his eyes planted on his instrument, I take it upon myself to begin capturing his visuals. I turn the flash on this time and zoom in on his face. Gorgeous boy. I snap a photo and quickly move to his right to get him from a different angle. I kneel on one knee and zoom my camera out slightly to capture him and his bass. I snap another image. He’s barely flinched. Impressive.

My teeth sink into my lower lip to stifle a smile as he glances at me off the corner of his eyes, his lips twisting into a bashful smile. I snap another photo. Perfect.

It dawns on me suddenly which song this bass line is from, and I somehow find myself singing along to the tune under my breath.

“He got hair down to his knee..got to be a joker he just do what he please.” I chant under my breath, humming the tune in between words.

Graham pauses suddenly and beams at me. “You’ve got a nice voice.”

I feel my face growing a bit warm. I chuckle nervously, a feeble smile breaking across my face.

“Thank you..sorry I..I got carried away.”

“That’s quite alright, no need to apologize. Your voice..it’s really nice,” he smiles at me boyishly, “so, you know the song then?”

I roll my eyes playfully at him, twisting my lips into a smile. “Did you have to go with a Beatles song?”

“Mm..you haven’t answered my question. What’s the name of the song?” he raises an eyebrow, giving me a smug look.

“Do I get anything in return? You know, for identifying the song correctly?”

“Are we just chopped liver, then?” Eric strolls across the stage with Lol following behind him. He places his elbow over Graham’s shoulder, gazing at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, it’s you again..” There is gross sarcasm in my tone. I playfully roll my eyes at him and peel away from his gaze. I suddenly find myself placing a hand over my mouth to hide my nervous smile.

“Mhm, it’s me again. Something the matter with that?” Goodness gracious, why is he such a..boy? A pretty boy at that.

Eric strides over towards me and leans his hands against his waist, smirking at me. “Anyways, I thought this was a 10cc photoshoot, not a Graham Gouldman extraordinaire photo spree, hm?”

“Graham Gouldman extraordinaire! Eric, have you gone mad?!” Graham cackles boisterously.

“He’s not just mad, Graham, he’s a bloody lunatic!” Lol chuckles, shooting a glance at Graham and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shush, enough from the peanut gallery over there.” he cranes his head over towards Lol and Graham, his lips twisting into a boyish smile, then he shifts his head back to face me.

“Well you seemed a bit busy doing whatever it was you were doing so I figured I’d leave you to it.” I cross my arms, pouting my lips. My eyes are now fixed on his.

“Oh is that right? Or maybe that’s your poor excuse for wanting me to come to you instead.” he maintains his smug facial expression.

“Geez Louise, are you always this annoying?” I chuckle nervously, maintaining a fixed gaze on him as I await his response.

“Ohh..so I’m annoying now? Very well then. I guess I won’t be needed in this photoshoot. Now, if you’ll excuse me–”

“Would you stop it? Now, why don’t you play me something? Graham did a beautiful rendition of Come Together on his bass. I want to hear from you now, Eric.”

“Say please?” he pleads with his eyes.

I march gracefully towards him and crane my head up to face him. My face breaks into a jovial smile as I gaze into his enchanting eyes.

“Pretty please?” I bat my eyes jokingly at him.

“I like the sound of that.” he smirks, then proceeds to march towards center stage.

Eric quickly tunes his guitar and fiddles around with some random chords before immersing himself into a song.

He glances at me from the corner of his eyes, his face beaming. He proceeds to speak into the microphone to render a speech.

“Thank you, Strawberry Studio crew. I would like to dedicate this next number to our esteemed guest, the lovely and talented Ms. Leah Walker,” he chuckles, “I hope you fancy this tune as much as I do.” He raises his brows at me then delves into the beginning riff of the song.

His eyes adhere to his fingers as they skate across the fretboard. I am quick to recognize the tune. There is some familiarity to it–it has a strong punch, it’s powerful, riveting even, yet simple and very catchy. Dad used to beat this song like a dead horse on his good ‘ole rickenbacker back in the day..I was blessed with a musician as a father which made for an interesting childhood. There was never a dull moment in our household growing up. It’s no surprise why I am able to identify songs by riff alone given the wisdom my father has shared with me on music theory.

“Rumble..” I mutter under my breath.

I stride towards center stage to get a good glimpse of Eric. I gaze up at him with admiration. His bangs are slightly tousled over his forehead. He charmingly flips his hair as he progresses through the riff. I zoom in on his face with my camera and snap an image. I shift to one corner and kneel on both knees and aim my camera upwards to get him in frame. I zoom my lens out ever so slightly just enough to get him and his guitar in the portrait. I capture another image, smiling at him adoringly. I hoist myself up and march on back over to him.

“You don’t strike me as someone who fancies a little Link Wray. He’s one of my favorites. My dad used to play this song day in, day out down in our basement.” I am suddenly hit with a quick flashback of my childhood. A tiny smile breaks across my face as I reminisce about those happier, more innocent days.

Eric pauses his performance. “Your father taught you well then. And you know, it’s rude to interrupt a musician while he’s in the middle of performing an important score.” His tone is facetious.

“Ohh..right, where are my manners?!” I retort sarcastically, “so anyway, I’m curious to know what you like to do for fun when you’re not making sweet, sweet love to your guitar.” Business tactic.

“Is that what you think I do?” he snorts audibly. He grins from ear to ear as he tries to further process my statement.

I quickly snap his image and giggle rather mischievously. “Beautiful..”

“So this is how you run your sessions? Clever girl..”

“Are you going to answer my question, Mr. Stewart?” I cock my head to the side. I gaze up at him with arms crossed, raising a brow at him. My lips twist into a smile as I await his response.

“My God, soo demanding..” he leans his arms over the body of his guitar, then proceeds to construct a response, “well if you must know..when I’m not, as you say, making love to my Gibson, you’ll find me tucked away in the garage doting on my Ferrari collection.”

“So you’re a car guy, huh?”

“Oh more than just a car guy..I’m involved.”

“Now why are we larking about? It is now 6:30 pm and we’re still not through with the shoot. What’s going on here?” Jonathan enters the studio from one of the side doors. He displays some degree of aggravation in his tone.

“That’s my fault, Mr. King, I’m holding them up. We’re almost finished.” I say this matter-of-factly. I’d rather take the blame for any delays.

“Gentlemen, one last thing before we conclude this session. Graham, Eric, Lol..I need you fellas to stand right by Kevin. You all seem to be a natural at this so just be yourselves, alright?”

The guys congregate around Kevin as directed. They fix themselves accordingly. I’ve been so entranced by this group that I’ve barely noticed just how casually dressed they are. The guys are all adorned in a mixture of denim, flannel shirts and casual pullover sweaters. I love how un-rock ‘n’ roll they are.

We conclude the session with several shots of the guys flocked around Kevin and a few with Lol being the centerpiece..

I check my watch and notice that the time is now 7:00 pm. I resist the urge to yawn.

“You must be tired, lady.” Eric peers into my eyes. His smile is charming. Contagious, even.

“Mhm..time for me to go.” I give into yawning, “oh boy..what a day..”

“Um..when will I..I mean, we hear back from you? you know, about the status of our pictures?”

“Well since you boys have been very accommodating today, I have my ways of expediting the process. I plan on swinging over to the photo lab first thing in the morning so I can get your photos developed hopefully by the end of tomorrow. So, to answer your question Eric, give me a couple days to get it done.” My tone is reassuring.

“Will you be delivering the pictures to us?” He maintains his gaze on me. His tone is perturbed.

“Well I’m going to be busy within the next few days. I have a few other shoots to get through this week, but I will do my best to swing by and hand deliver them myself. If not, I have an apprentice working for me who is aware of my plan and will be more than happy to deliver your pictures in case I‘m not available to do it.”

For a moment, we are covered with a veil of silence as we both try to mentally process the act of parting ways. I want to see you again too, Eric. I think you’re interesting and I want to get to know more about you and your incredible life..

He sighs deeply, almost despairingly, then slips a tiny piece of paper into the palm of my hand while bringing my hand up to his face to plant gentle kiss on my knuckle. Butterflies, again.

“On behalf of the group and myself, thank you for making this day memorable.” He smiles at me meekly. I cannot seem to comprehend how a grown man could look so pure and innocent yet ripe all at once. “Call the studio if you have any concerns..about anything..anything at all.”

“Eric..I..today was great. Thank you..for everything.” I gently peel my hand away from his hold. Something in me is compelling me to kiss him on the cheek. No..no..too soon.

“I really hope to see you again.” He is seemingly pleading.

“Oh you will. I’m sure you will. Goodnight, Eric.” I take one last look at him before heading out the door.

“Goodnight.”

I swing my backpack over my shoulder and proceed to exit the studio, resisting the urge to turn around and look back at him. I stagger just outside the studio’s premises. I inhale deeply, then exhale one slowed and controlled breath as I take a moment to process the whole slew of events that occurred today. Where’s a cigarette when I need one?

I unravel the tiny piece of paper that Eric seamlessly slipped into my hand just before parting ways. I read his writing:

Please call me at Strawberry if you need anything.

01612857303

-Eric

I think i just felt my stomach drop.

———————————————————————————

previous chapter

please visit my masterlist if you would like to see some of my other work :))

9 notes · View notes

rkee-tmbr · 2 years ago

Text

Wow, thanks for accepting!!😍🤝 I've just finished my drafts and I'm in the process of coloring Eric👶

So, can you tell me your Leah character design? For example, her hair color and hairstyle, skin color, eye color, etc🧑🏻👩🏾‍🦱👩🏼🎶 If you don't have those settings, I can design it for you😉

Of course! I'm glad you shared it on your blog!💗

chances

CH 2: VOGUE PT. I

themes: playfulness, hothead Stewart, insinuating rivalry between group members, flirting, some fluff

a/n: I am dividing this chapter in two parts, with the latter being where most of the action happens. I've decided to do this because honestly, I've been going through severe writer's block and running out of tasty ideas. Not to worry, they'll come to me in part two.

“Hi..you alright, beautiful?”

“Should we get on with it, then?” Eric poses the question to the group, exchanging dazed looks with his mates fishing for a response.

“What’s that?” Lol sounds oblivious, furrowing his brows at Eric.

“Are you daft, Laurence?! The photoshoot, man!” Eric responds matter-of-factly, sounding slightly irritable.

“Just asking a simple question, Stewart. No need to be ornery..Christ. And stop calling me Laurence! You know I don’t like being called that!” Lol exclaims in an aggravated tone. He rolls his eyes in dismay at Eric’s sarcastic remark.

Eric glares at Lol, his face turning a slight serosanguineous color. “You know what, I’ve got a good mind to thum-”

There is increased tension in Eric’s tone. I find myself growing slightly aggravated at this somewhat hostile interaction. I decide to interject.

“Okay, that’s enough!” My command is solid and firm, “why don’t we just get this over with? We’re wasting valuable time and I’d hate to keep you all here longer than you need to. You can reconcile your differences once we’re through here.”

The four men crane their heads toward me, gaping at me and seemingly flabbergasted by my audacity. We all stand in momentary silence, exchanging dumbfounded looks. I glare at each of them, feeling some convection of heat in my face. I’m feeling irritable at the moment. I will NOT be babysitting a bunch of grown men.

Eric takes a stride towards me with swagger, something I have been keenly observing. He smirks at me, his eyes adhered to mine. A little deviant. This one’s going to be trouble, I can tell already.

I stand with my arms crossed and head turned to the side, avoiding his gaze to my aggravation. Eric is standing just inches away from my face. I take in his body heat as he firmly clasps his hands on my shoulders. He places a finger under my chin, gently shifting my head to face him. He searches my eyes with his and succeeds.

“Hi..you alright, beautiful?” His boyish smile instantly remedies my temper. A lump travels down my throat as I shudder under his gaze.

Beautiful? Oh he’s funny..he thinks he can just sweet talk his way out of this. However, I’d be lying if I said this term of endearment coming from him didn’t have an effect on me.

“Yes. I’m fine, Eric. Now can we please get started?” My voice cracks as I attempt to control the mild fluttering in my stomach. Tension leaves my face as I meet his gaze.

“There, there now..this is just how the lads and I talk to each other sometimes. Sorry, did we frighten you?” His tone is reassuring. Like a clairvoyant with a keen ability to tap into human emotion, it seems as though he can read this tense feeling I’m having at the moment. He remedies my affliction by gently rubbing my upper arms, and as he does this I feel tension gradually exiting every inch of my body. His touch is soothing, and I’m finding it difficult to resist sinking into his arms yet I somehow manage to maintain integrity.

I peel away from Eric’s hold. I strive to maintain composure. I shut my eyes momentarily, running my fingers through my hair. I inhale deeply and exhale–one slowed, controlled, meaningful breath. I bring my hands together and smile broadly at the men as I collect my thoughts.

“Now, are we ready for some nice pictures, fellas?” I glance at Eric. He smiles at me timidly, like a school-aged child who’s just received a wholehearted compliment from his teacher for the first time.

“Absolutely!”

“I was born ready!”

“I didn’t dress to kill today for no reason now, did I?

“I have been looking forward to this all day.”

They strike me with their commentaries in a rapid-fire fashion. Listening to them rave about the photoshoot with such enthusiasm overwhelms me with joy. My mood is uplifted, considering how irritable I was just moments ago. I smile at the men gleefully as I listen to their banter about how one is perhaps the best dressed for the occasion–an amusing interaction to say the least.

“Oi, lads! Before we get started, I suppose we should get better acquainted with our lovely photographer. After all, she still is very much a stranger to us.” Lol says this matter-of-factly, darting his head towards me. His face brightens as he grins at me widely.

“An interrogation.” Eric shoots a glance at me from the corner of his eye, smirking.

An interrogation?! Well I certainly did not sign up for this..

“Lol’s right you know. I think it’s only fair that we get to know a bit more about..you. If that’s alright with you, of course.” Eric places emphasis on the word you. I feel as though he’s prodding me on purpose, and he’s found the perfect opportunity for me to be vulnerable and be an open book to them..to him. I certainly could be overanalyzing his intentions, and my thought process may even be a bit delusional, but a girl can only speculate. What baffles me most is why these men seem invested in scrutinizing my rather uneventful life story. Whatever the reason is beyond me, but I feel obligated to feed their curiosity now that they’ve opened up this portal.

“Very well then. Shall we take this discussion somewhere more..private, if you will? I prefer that my personal business be discussed just amongst us and not with the rest of the world.” I demand an accommodation since they’ve so graciously requested to know the details about my parody of a life.

“Of course, of course! Anything for you, love.” Eric glances at me, he is beaming with his boyish allure that’s gradually growing on me. Charming.

“Right this way, come with me.” He leads the way into a small, secluded section in the rehearsal room. The rest of us follow him like a parade of baby geese following their mother.

I quickly study the area. From first glance, the area looks neat, organized and free of clutter–surprising, considering this is practically a playground for young musicians that presumably indulge in some raucous behavior in their spare time. Oddly enough, I feel proud of them for keeping this place in pristine condition. Minimal furniture present–I note the bright red, horseshoe-shaped sectional and the large black round coffee table stationed in the middle. I turn my attention to the two clear ashtrays, a couple half empty bottles of scotch, the open box of Winstons and four diamond-cut whiskey glasses sitting on top. Rockstars by trade.

“Please have a seat.” Eric pulls up the hem of his denim jeans before sinking into the sofa. The three others follow suit and sit to his right.

I want to maintain professional boundaries. They sit on one end of the sofa while I settle myself on the opposite end. With the coffee table separating me and the men, I feel that this is a comfortable distance. For some odd reason, I feel like I’m at a job interview–this is almost reminiscent to the day I sat to interview with Dan for this job 5 years ago. Only difference was we were seated in the two suede love seats he had in his office–I should say has because he still has them things in there.

“Lovely studio, by the way. It’s nice to know you crazy kids are able to keep this place up despite all your antics.” I say this jokingly of course. The American in me all too often resorts to sarcasm as a way to break tension–at times a strength, other times a weakness.

Graham chuckles, glancing at me with sleepy eyes. A tiny smile interrupts his blunted expression. I am just now noticing his lengthy eyelashes. They complement those dreamy, dark brown eyes of his. Oh he’s gorgeous. His dreamy eyes, his slick, black curls, his slim figure, his nonchalant demeanor–he is every photographer’s dream, I think he’d do well as a fashion model in my honest opinion.

“Mm..yes. Eric and I are keen on orderliness and unfortunately, we’ve had to constantly keep up with the mess that these two lunatics make.” Graham is matter-of-fact, glaring at Kevin and Lol.

“Right. And we’re not going to repeat the story of how they left this place in shambles last week after play fighting with string cheese and meat pies. Looked like a tornado tore this place apart..empty beer bottles, meat pie remnants, traces of cheese and shaving cream all over the damn floor. Man was it a sight! You just had to be there.” Eric tuts. He narrows his eyes at Kevin and Lol, shaking his head in dismay, “Graham and I are always babysitting these two fools.”

“Oi! We did too clean up after ourselves, Eric!” Lol sounds like an exasperated young child who’s just been scolded by his mother for misbehaving.

“We were tired and we were bored out of our minds so we wanted to have a bit of fun. Lol and I had our thrill, but I can assure everyone here that we enjoyed responsibly by cleaning up our own mess, otherwise we wouldn’t have heard the end of it from Susie Day over here.” Kevin rolls his eyes at Eric.

“Sod off, Godley! You’re not any better than Lol and you know it! In fact, you’re far worse sometimes!” Eric scoffs at Kevin’s tongue-in-cheek remark.

Eric swipes the box of Winstons from the coffee table. He slides a cigarette out from the box and a lighter from his jean pocket, then anchors the cigarettes between his lips. He quickly produces a tiny flame with one effortless flick of the sparkwheel with his expert thumb. He leans his head into the flame to burn the tobacco. He takes a puff from the cigarette, then exhales a steady stream of smoke into the studio air.

Eric leans his cigarette against an ash tray and presents me the small carton, smirking at me. “Would you like one?”

He rises from the sofa and takes a stroll towards me and introduces the small carton of pure nicotine to me. I stare into the box mindlessly. Cancer sticks. I have never had a single cigarette in my life, but today I’m feeling bold.

“I would love one, thank you Mr. Eric.”

I withdraw a cigarette from the box and he ignites a flame with his lighter once again. I lean my cigarette into it, locking eyes with him. He smiles at me timidly. I study his eyes–they’re a gorgeous light brown color. I take note of how they glisten when the light hits them from the perfect angle. His partially disheveled hair suits him well–it enhances his attractiveness. His curtain bangs fall perfectly over the corners of his eyes, just enough that I can still catch a glimpse of them. The subtle rose color that blush his cheeks is becoming more prominent as he takes in the mild heat from my cigarette. He is breathtakingly gorgeous and undeniably photogenic. He is one model client that photographers would absolutely rave about. Rare beauty as we like to call it.

As a photographer, the skill of ascertaining beauty in certain individuals makes me sound superficial and perhaps even biased, but indeed it is a skill that is core to the profession and one that requires a lot of time and patience to master. Of note, there’s a kind of beauty that appeals to me. The ability to identify this type of beauty is a skill I’ve acquired as a novice photographer–most consider me seasoned at this point in my career, but frankly speaking, I consider myself as a novice. I have much to learn still.

I take a hit off my cigarette then crane my head up to face Eric. I expel a cloud of smoke into his face, smirking at him. I feel like playing a little game with you, Mr. Stewart. His face grows more smug as the traveling smolder gently collides into his face.

“Rookie.” He raises an eyebrow at me, maintaining his smug expression. He looks rather sultry.

“Is that a compliment or an insult, Mr. Stewart?” I gaze up at him, smiling broadly, “you may choose to answer that only after everyone else is through with their questions. Now, would you please be seated? I believe you and your mates had some inquiries about me?” My tone is direct. Of course, this is not my first rodeo and providing redirection is an art that I seem to have acquired naturally as a photographer.

Giving direction is a constant struggle for us photographers, especially when working with unhinged rockstars. I’m still trying to gauge these ones, however. I can’t quite tell just yet whether or not they’ll be trouble, the lot of them.

“So bossy..” Eric playfully rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He turns around to tread back over to the sofa and sinks into the cushioned furnishing.

Eric takes his partially burned cigarette then anchors it between his fingers. He takes a hit off it then leans it back against the ashtray. He leans over the coffee table, sliding over one of the whiskey glasses closer to him. He proceeds to swipe the bottle of scotch and unscrews the top then pours some of the liquor into his glass, about a shot’s worth so it appears. After pouring his desired amount of beverage, he glances at me from the corner of his eye. The look he keeps giving me is rather alluring, if I didn’t have any self-control I’d be swooning.

“Care for some scotch, hm?” Eric raises an eyebrow at me, his tone seemingly coaxing me to agree to the offer.

“Oh that sounds lovely. I would love some, please.” My smile is demure. He and the rest of the group have been more than accommodating to me thus far, it’s overwhelming to say the least.

Eric pours a shot’s worth of liquor into a whiskey glass and delivers the glass to me.

I look up at him with an infectious smile.

“A gentleman and a scholar.” I lean my cigarette against the ashtray and proceed to steal the glass from him, then raise it as if making a congratulatory toast. I take a sip of the alcohol.

He slides back into the sofa. Raising his glass, he smiles broadly at me.

“And a woman with class.” he winks at me as he takes a sip of his beverage.

That fluttering sensation in my stomach is back. My teeth sink into my lower lip as I feel the temperature in my cheeks rise gradually.

“Well, lads? Questions? For the lady?” Lol inquires the group, raising his brows as he glances at his peers.

“Where in America are you from, exactly?” Graham bravely initiates the query.

“Brooklyn. New York.”

“Is that right? I heard only the best tasting pizza in the world comes from New York.” Eric is quick with his remark.

“Why’s it always about food with you, Stewart?” Kevin scoffs, rolling his eyes at Eric.

“Do you always have to be so-”

“Next question, please!” I interject before any bickering ensues.

“Oh yes, do you have a favor-”

“What makes you happy?” Eric interjects Lol, locking eyes with me.

A lump travels down my throat. I drag my hand across the sofa deliberately, feeling its soft, velvety texture to ease my nerves. I take another sip of liquor. I smile at him genially.

“My family. My work family. My friends. Photography..my clients. They make me happy. I get to capture people’s most candid moments. And what I see in them..I see passion, devotion and at times even frustration. But that right there is the very thing that lured me into photography. People allow me to capture their most vulnerable moments. That’s what I love most about my profession and to see that side of people is what makes me happy.” That was perhaps a little more than what needed to be said but it was a well thought out response, in my opinion.

“That sounds lovely.” Eric gives me a boyish smile. He has not peeled his gaze off me.

“And what about you, Mr. Stewart? What makes you happy?”

He sits in silence for a moment while he takes a sip of liquor.

“Well I do fancy what I do around here in the studio and being in the company of these three hooligans. There’s never a dull moment.” Eric playfully nudges Lol.

I chuckle at Eric’s response. He maintains a fixed gaze on me as he takes another sip of liquor. It seems as though this entire interaction has grossly been about us, with the other three men being our fervent audience.

“Now, what’s all this about?” Jonathan appears unexpectedly. His tone is scornful.

“Jonathan darlin’, we were just wanting to get to know the girl! She’s been such a delight to have around.” Lol grins brightly at Jonathan.

“Fraternizing with the photographer, eh?” Jonathan shoots his eyes at me, giving me a smoldering look, “might I suggest that you youngsters continue this little hubbub after you’re through with the shoot? It’s getting a bit late, lads.” Jonathan shifts to a more father-like tone.

The men collectively sigh and grumble indistinctly, seemingly disapproving of Jonathan’s suggestion.

Eric cranes his head towards me, ogling me from head to toe, “I suppose.”

“Alright fellas, who’s ready for some candid shots?”

“Me! Me! Me!” Kevin and Lol frantically wave an arm up in the air like school-aged children desperate to answer the teacher’s question.

“Ma’am, I am ready for my beauty shots.” Eric proclaims, striking multiple ridiculous poses.

I giggle at his playfulness. “Fine. Let’s get on with this finally, shall we?”

--------------------------------------------------------------

previous chapter

please visit my masterlist if you would like to see some of my other work :))

9 notes · View notes