Page 42 of Serves Me Wright


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“Let me grab my equipment,” I said as he veered toward the door.

I hauled my shooting backpack over my shoulder and headed out after him. He was in a shiny rental BMW and offered to drive us across town, which I accepted. I didn’t know if I could live down having Campbell Abbey in Bertha.

I was already done up more than I normally would be for a shoot. Julian was picking me up at the studio later to take me out to dinner with his dad. I had a change of clothes in my bag so that I could be comfortable in the studio, but my face was made up how Blaire had tried to teach me. She’d eventually given up and fixed my winged eyeliner and the edges of my lipstick before dotting me with blush, which I’d always insisted I didn’t need, considering how often I flushed being around Julian. But this was the Blaire Blush we were talking about.

We parked outside of the studio, and I unlocked the space. It was a perfect day for shooting with lots of natural light. Though I’d come over yesterday to set up the lighting as well.

“So, where do you want me?” Campbell asked.

“Just sit on that chair over there while I set up. I assume you’ve had some experience with this.”

He laughed. “Some feels like an understatement. I feel like I’ve spent the last two years in front of a camera. You’d never guess I was camera shy.”

I looked up at him. “No, I’d never guess that.”

Here I was, talking to Campbell like it was totally normal. Like he wasn’t a famous rockstar. Like he was just a person. A person with anxieties, just like me. Unfathomable.

“Yeah, I had to get over it real fast once things started taking off. But fuck, did I need a Xanax in the beginning.”

I rocked back on my heels. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, mental health is really important.”

Part of me wanted so desperately to confide in him about my own problems. He was so open about his mental health issues. I couldn’t believe he’d tell me this stuff.

“Well, thanks for sitting for me anyway.”

“Hey, I asked you. Your work is great. I’d love to use it as a new headshot. My other ones are so…stuffy. Or staged.”

I nodded, taking a few pictures of him to test the equipment. “That makes sense. The record label wanted that?”

“Yeah. Standard bullshit.”

I snapped another picture and looked down at it. “You deal with a lot of bullshit?”

Now that I was behind the camera, everything else disappeared. I was no longer Jennifer Gibson—nerdy, anxious girl. I was just me, and I was in control. I felt good here. And I wanted to keep him talking. People worked the best when they were comfortable. Didn’t I of all people know that?

“You have no idea,” he said with a laugh.

Snap.

“Can you lean forward? Elbow on your knee.”

He did what I’d said.

“Yes, good. Tell me about the bullshit.”

He sighed and looked off in the distance. Snap. “Music is just one big bureaucracy. I love creating and making music and touring. But everything in between reminds me it’s still a job.”

His eyes looked straight on at me. Snap. “Know what I’m talking about?”

“I do. Plus, you’re in the public eye. What’s that like?”

He frowned. Snap. “Depends on the day. Right now, things are low-key. I kind of like being back in Lubbock for that. It’s not like LA.”

I laughed. “Understatement.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” I asked, pulling the camera from my eye.

He shifted in his seat. “How do you feel about your job?”

“I love it. Though not everyone thinks it’s a real job.”

He pulled his arms up over his head and leaned backward.

I jerked my camera back up. Snap.

“Why wouldn’t it be a real job?”

I shrugged. “I’m not a doctor or lawyer or pharmacist. You know…real jobs.”

He snorted. “Hell, I don’t have a real job either. Seems to work out for me.”

It did.

“And what about you and Julian?”

I stared at him through the viewfinder. The thoughtful expression on his face. “What about me and Julian?”

“You’re into him, right? That’s why he wanted to fake date you—so he could real date you.”

I nearly dropped the camera. “What?”

His face froze, as if he’d realized he’d said too much. “He…told you that, right?”

“He didn’t. No,” I whispered. “He made all the fake dating up?”

“Uh, I didn’t mean to say any of that. I thought you already knew that he liked you.”

“Julian…likes me?”

Campbell stood from his seat and adjusted his jacket. My brain was frozen though. The only thing functioning was the camera. I managed to keep shooting through all of it. But I couldn’t seem to process what he’d said. It didn’t fit in with anything that had happened. Well, other than the sex, and we’d both just gotten drunk.

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