| blue hour is the short period of time before sunrise or after sunset when the sun is just below the horizon. indirect sunlight is evenly diffused and takes on a blue shade |
traveling the world as greta van fleet's touring photographer seemed like...
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"Easy there, killer."
You barrelled past Kyle, your loving boyfriend who stood in the doorway to the ensuite bathroom with an amused grin on his lips. Toothbrush dangling from your lips, you rushed around your shared bedroom in search of the specific pair of ankle boots you'd mentally planned to wear that day. Of course, because nothing wanted to go right that morning, you tripped over the left one and subsequently knocked your toothbrush from your mouth and straight onto your blouse.
With your throbbing foot clutched in one hand, you cursed loudly, "Son of a bitch!" Kyle was laughing heartily, paying no mind to the scowl you sent in his direction as you hopped around on one foot and narrowly avoided stepping on your toothbrush that now laid on the floor.
This was easily the biggest day of your career so far. For months you'd been looking forward to it with stars in your eyes and butterflies in your stomach, butterflies that were quickly being chased away by raging hornets as the minutes ticked by rapidly. Never before had you been late to work, and leave it to you to be late for the first time on what was essentially your big break.
It was hard work trying to break into the photography industry, and even harder trying to do it with no degree under your belt. All you had was what professionals called a hobby, a portfolio of freelance work, and no technical merit to back it all up. It was a miracle you'd even managed to snag your internship before one of the university students had snatched it, and the later you ran the more you dreaded ruining everything.
The people at The Heat weren't exactly the hardest, nor the most critical in the industry, but they were professionals. They determined whether you got to work (for free) for another day, and whether or not you'd have to start all over with your dreams of being a photographer in the music industry. Essentially, they were the people who stood between you and your future, and you were determined to make the best impression on them.
And being late on the day the biggest band they'd worked with to date was scheduled to arrive? Well, that was definitely not a good impression. You were lucky they were even allowing you in the studio, let alone giving you the chance to work some of the shoot yourself.
Greta Van Fleet was notorious for being late to everything, and all you could hope for at that point was that they would arrive later than you.
Abandoning your toothbrush and swallowing the glob of toothpaste still swishing around your mouth, you ripped open the stained blouse and began digging through your closet in a frenzy. You'd meticulously planned out your outfit for the special day for weeks, and now that the blouse you'd planned it around entirely was ruined you were scrambling. Maybe it was a ridiculous thing to be concerned about, but you were.
You ached to make the best impression possible. Looking your best helped you feel your best, giving you the confidence to hide just how anxious and frazzled you really were just beneath the surface, and now it was ruined. "God," you cried, tearing hangers across the rack angrily, "I have nothing to wear!"
