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1.
Philip
This city is at its worst when it rains.
The buildings outside look like splotches of grey, and it always makes my studio feel cold. A draft runs over my legs and I shudder. Looking at my latest photos, I let out a curse. My inspiration isn’t where it should be. For weeks now it has been running away from me and I just can’t seem to grasp it, no matter how much I study my old work, no matter how much I have to drink and no matter how much time I spend in nature.
It’s just not there.
Shaking my head, I start finishing up for the day. What’s the point anyway?
I’m in a bad mood as I put my stuff into my briefcase, and I feel a flash of annoyance when there’s a quiet knock on the door. ”We’re closed for the day,” I mutter without turning around.
”Please, I’d just like to have my photo taken real quick.”
The voice is soft, urgent and had the person seeking my services caught me on any other day than this one, I would’ve obliged. But right now I’m really tired and just sick of everything.
”Said we’re closed…,” I snarl, whirling around but what I see in the doorway hits me like a punch in the gut. I had no idea this studio was haunted but it must be. What stands in front of me is nothing short of an apparition.
It’s a girl.
With golden, bohemian looking hair cascading to her knees. A slim body, dressed in a flared mini skirt and top that barely covers her midriff seems to wink at me. Trustworthy caramel eyes meet mine and she squirms. I feel like I’ve been caught in limbo between life or death. I no longer know if I want to be immortal so that I can bathe in her beauty forever, or die a happy man, knowing that I at least was allowed to be in the presence of something so special.
”If you’re really that busy, I can always come back another day…,” she breathes and a muscle in my jaw ticks.
”Stay.”
The request comes out more like an order and her brows rise in surprise. It makes something hot pool down low in my stomach. Despite the fragile appearance of the girl, I don’t think she’s the kind that likes to be told what to do. And suddenly I have to curb the urge to boss over her. I rub my brow ridge, wondering what the fuck my problem is. I’m old enough to be her father, old enough…damn, I need to get a hold of my urges.
”Please, have a seat.” I gesture at the stool where I have all my models sit and she saunters over in her mules. I stare at her ankles and wonder out of nowhere, how come she’s able to stand upright when her ankles seem to be made out of porcelain. This young girl feels so surreal that I won’t believe she truly is real until I get to touch her. She sits down on the stool, making sure her skirt doesn’t slip up and my temples begin to pound. I look for my camera but everything seems to have turned blurry.
I don’t even know what date it is or what I’m supposed to do. All I know is that I already dread the moment she leaves. There’s something about her that makes me desperate to control her which is a feeling I’ve never had before. I’m a photographer. A free spirit. I’ve never wanted to keep anyone under my thumb before but with her it’s different. I don’t want her just under my thumb, I want her underneath my whole body. Pressed against me like a secret love letter nobody’s allowed to read. I shrug myself, grab the camera when I find it and then I turn to her.
She’s busy preening, crossing her legs and dragging her fingers through her hair. I can smell her even from this distance and she smells of baked oatmeal cookies and a tall glass of milk. The print on her t-shirt says Beauty and boy, is that an understatement. If she’s beautiful then Rapunzel’s a swamp troll. Something forms in my throat that’s the size of a rock, and my fingers tremble when I lift up the camera.
”Uncross your legs for me,” I say in a hoarse voice and she slowly does as I ask. I follow the movement with agony. I snap a couple of photos, still staring at her face. ”Have you ever done this before, sweetheart?”
Biting her lip, she shakes her head. ”But I’ve always wanted to.” She lets out a little laugh. ”I’ve dreamed about becoming a model for as long as I can remember.” Her eyes flicker with something secretive. ”I’m going to send the photos to an agency.”
I nod. ”Are you in college now?”
”High school,” she murmurs but tenses when I drop the camera, furious at myself for thinking and hoping that she was at least a little bit older. ”But I’m eighteen,” she hurries to explain. ”I don’t need anyone’s permission to be here.”
A heaviness spreads across my chest. Fuck, do I wish she was older. I open my mouth about to tell her that maybe it’s better if she asks somebody else to take her photos, when she suddenly flicks her hair back. It mesmerizes me, makes me forget what I’m supposed to say. Makes me forget I’m supposed to be a man of morals. But I can’t with her. This is a girl that can make me risk everything. Job, reputation…I’d be willing to get evicted because of her, painted as a creep all over social media if it comes to it.
The moment I saw her, I knew how badly I was screwed. And I can’t backtrack. It’s as if she’s thrown glitter in my eyes and all I can think about is how much she shines.
Breathing raggedly, I snap a couple of more pics but then she lifts her face, smiling a little.
”Um…Phil,” she says, ”you forgot to take off the lens cap.”
I freeze, turning my camera around and damn, she’s right. I did forget. My face heats when she sniggers and the heat spreads to the back of my ears. Great. I just made a fool out of myself in front of her and here I was trying to come across as hip and cool. Fuck. She’s already making me feel like an idiot and I hurry to pull down the cap, but then I look up.
She said Phil. My name on the sign outside says Philip Steinherr. Only people who know me call me Phil.
Clearing my throat, I ask, ”Have we met before?”
Softly, she looks at me beneath her lashes. ”You don’t remember me, do you?”
