street photographer ghost who has mastered taking the perfect candid photos without ever getting caught. he just has an eye for subjects, both mundane and unique in style, and he enjoys his work. it's just that simple.
soap is one of those subjects. there's something naturally captivating about him, the way he carries himself and seemingly bends the world to his will all around him, and ghost wastes no second doing what he does best—candids that frame their subject like they're the centre of the universe even when any other passerby might blink and miss those singular moments.
except—as ghost snaps a few more photos and briefly glances at the raw images, he sees that the man he'd been taking pictures of is looking directly down the barrel of the lens by the end of the set of photos, a grin on his face, hand blurred in a wave in the frozen frames ghost had captured.
when he puts the camera down, he sees the man still waving at him from across the street before he's quickly glancing both ways and jogging across to meet ghost.
"almost didn't see you," he breathes.
ghost bites back a that's the point, instead focusing on carefully tucking his camera back into its bag.
"i'm sorry," ghost eventually apologizes. "i'll delete them if—"
"the opposite, actually," the man cuts in. "i wanted to see them."
ghost tenses. the rare times he's been caught out usually don't... result in this. "really?"
"mhm." another bright grin. "i'm soap, by the way. or—john, if you're lookin' to be all formal like."
pulling his camera back out, ghost cocks an eyebrow. "soap?"
soap shakes his head. "don't worry about it." he winks. "unless we meet again."
ghost snorts. captivating had certainly been the right word to describe soap.
"why don't we see if you even like the photos first, yeah?"
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