Page 27 of Love and Horns


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BK takes the memory card from my hand, inserts it into his computer hub, and the images start popping onto the screen. My mouth drops and though I felt like I did a pretty good job today, I am awestruck that things look as incredible as they do.

The lighting is top-notch and reflects exactly how I thought it would. Lacey’s expressions are flawless and evoke so much emotion I want to cry right here on the spot. He scrolls through the proofs not even trying to mask the expression on his face.

I think it’s even a look of surprise. Dare I say I impressed him?

“I guess I should have let you play with the camera a little sooner huh?” He admits. I know it can be hard to confess when you’re wrong and I think this might be as close as I’m going to get to that from him.

“I hate to say I told you so,” is all I can manage out. Seeing him smirk at that has me sending my own smile back at him.

“In all honesty, though, I would love feedback on what I could have done differently. I know you weren’t there so that part obviously you can’t speak to, but any of the images you would have changed at all?” I question, hoping to learn as much as I can now that I have a small opening of trust.

BK scrolls for a minute, enlarging a few before crafting his reply.

“Overall, I think you have a good eye. You are playing a little safe though. Don’t be afraid to move around more, play with the angles and have Lacey move to emphasize those movements. See here where you got like four of the same shot? Get two and then change something. The more variety the happier Ovis or whoever the client is will be. They don’t pay per image so they want to get the most bang for their buck…give it to them.”

I sit on his feedback for a minute, letting it sink in and thinking back to earlier today when I could have put exactly that into practice.

“Thank you, it means a lot to get some feedback. I’m going to get going. Enjoy your soup and let me know if anything changes for the schedule tomorrow so I can be prepared.”

At this moment I realize how close to his back I had become trying to see the pictures on the screen. I pull back, grabbing my bag from the floor near the couch. He is still staring at the computer as I open his office door.

“Hey Carter,” he says, louder than anything I have heard him say today.

I pause.

“Great work today.”

That is all he needs to say for my entire body to be covered in bumps. I nod my chin once, speechless not something I am used to feeling, and I close the door behind me.

Maybe the infamous BK puked out his bad attitude and is no longer being controlled by some kind of demon inside his head. A girl can dream, right?

Iwanttoputmy fucking head through a wall. I couldn’t help getting sick and now that Carter has had a taste of what it’s like being me, I may be sick forever. Either by her poisoning me or by me constantly putting my foot in my own fucking mouth.

Truth is, she did incredible today. And that’s not something I accept willingly. It’s undeniable that she has a true eye for photography and will go far in this business once given the chance. The chance she got thanks to whatever decided to take root in my stomach and wreak havoc.

The best part? The excitement and shock on her face when she saw how well I thought she had done. Combine that with the literal fucking joy painted across her face when I told her.

Fuck, I hate how much it made her happy to hear that coming from me.

Did she truly not think she was good enough?

My entire career has never been about making anyone else feel good about what they were doing. It was always about my image, my success, and my stupid fucking ego. I would be lying if I said I didn’t love having all eyes on me, either for the good or the fucked up.

Validation from anyone outside of my stupid brain has always been a driving force. I know, how typical, a highly successful person who can’t see the value in themselves. Blah blah blah. You’re not wrong, that shit is annoying and a huge part of me even hates that I admit it’s true.

Yet here as I sit looking at all the photos someone else captured, I feel so much burden of being replaced. Eliminated. Demoted to nothing more than a “previous job history” entry on my resume.

From the day Stan had me in his office, I knew this moment would come. The time Ovis decided to drop my ass for someone with a fresher pair of eyes and a pair of tits that hadn’t been dragged along the tabloid headlines.

It was only a matter of time before they would tire of my bullshit. And did that stop me? Not really. Not until it was evident my chair was being pimped out to someone new.

I’m pretty sure there is some saying about not knowing how good you have it until it all goes to shit. Whoever said that was mostly right. We all know how good we have it, but we never think we will lose it. So, we push the boundaries. Test the limits. Break the rules and don’t say sorry.

We push and push until it finally breaks, sabotaging ourselves in the process, left crying in the corner wondering how it all went wrong.

You dumbass. You’re how it all went wrong. With your inability to let things remain in their happy little state. We think we are unworthy, that we don’t deserve the good shit we earn. Like I didn’t work my fucking ass off to get where I am now.

No one else sees what you went through to get where you are. They see the highlight reel or what they are there to witness, but it’s never the whole story. Your entire journey can’t be seen through a narrowed lens. People will only see what you are willing to share. All they know about my journey is that I trained with Patrick McLellan, a staple in the photography scene for over three decades.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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