Beneath City Lights

Chapter 2: The Weight of Expectations

𝑨𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒊𝒓

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I jolted awake to the relentless buzz of my phone on the nightstand, vibrating with an irritating persistence that pierced the thin veil of sleep I had barely managed to cling to. I didn't need to check to know who it was. I groaned, rolling over to grab it, squinting as the screen lit up. Gabriel. Of course.

Fifteen missed calls. Thirty-two unread texts. All from him.

I tossed the phone onto the bed with a sigh, rubbing my temples to ease the growing tension there. Gabriel had been calling me nonstop since midnight, like a broken record of apologies and desperate questions. I should've blocked him by now, but something kept stopping me. Maybe it was the part of me that didn't want to face the mess head-on. Maybe it was the guilt that gnawed at me in weak moments, whispering that I'd walked away too easily. Either way, I was too tired for this.

I glanced at the clock: 7:30 a.m. My photoshoot with Radiant Talent was in a few hours, and I hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep to prepare for what was bound to be a long, draining day. As if on cue, my phone buzzed again. Another text from Gabriel.

"Please, Avenoir, we need to talk. Just hear me out."

I clenched my jaw and swiped the message away. He'd had months to talk. Months to fix what was wrong between us, but the moment I walked out, now he wanted to make things right? Typical.

My phone buzzed again, but this time it was Camila.

"You awake? I'm outside with coffee."

Bless her. I groaned as I pulled myself out of bed, not bothering to change out of my oversized t-shirt and sweats before heading to the door. When I opened it, there she was—Camila, with her signature oversized sunglasses perched on her head and two cups of coffee in hand.

"You look like you've been hit by a truck," she said with a teasing grin, but I could see the concern behind her eyes.

"Thanks," I muttered, taking one of the cups. "I didn't sleep."

"Gabriel?"

I nodded, taking a long sip of the coffee, the warmth slowly bringing me back to life. Camila raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"Girl, you need to block him. It's been what? Three months? He doesn't get to keep doing this."

I sighed, sinking into the couch. "I know. I just... I don't know."

"You need to stop letting him live in your head rent-free," she said, plopping down beside me. "You've got a big day today. Focus on that."

"Yeah, Radiant's going to love the bags under my eyes," I muttered, already dreading the inevitable critique.

"Oh, please, you're still stunning. But seriously, block him. Focus on you."

I nodded, more out of obligation than conviction. Camila always knew how to cut through the noise in my head. That's why she was my best friend—she saw me when I couldn't see myself. Still, the weight of Gabriel's calls lingered, an invisible thread tying me back to a chapter I was trying to close.

After another moment of silence, Camila jumped up. "Alright, get dressed. I'll pick something for you. We've got work to do, and you're gonna slay."

---

By the time we arrived at the studio, I'd somehow managed to pull myself together. Camila had worked her magic, of course—classic black trousers, a sleek cropped jacket, and a bold red lip to distract from the exhaustion etched into my face. But the minute we walked in, I could already feel the tension in the air.

Radiant's team was buzzing around, and I didn't miss the sideways glances and hushed whispers. I knew what they were thinking.

She doesn't look the same.

Is she okay?

I forced myself to ignore it, but it was like trying to wade through quicksand. The longer I stood there, the more I felt it pulling me under.

"Avenoir!" Sofia, the creative director, waved me over. "Let's get you in front of the camera."

I nodded, walking over with as much confidence as I could muster. But it was a mask, and I knew it.

As I stepped in front of the camera, I caught sight of someone new. He was tall, with an air of quiet intensity, his camera already in hand, adjusting the lens. His sharp, focused gaze settled on me for a brief moment, and I felt something shift. I wasn't sure what it was, but there was an energy there, something palpable.

"Valerian Sinclair, our photographer for the shoot," Sofia introduced him with a smile.

He nodded, offering a small smile in return. "Nice to meet you, Avenoir."

His voice was calm, steady. But there was something in his eyes—something that seemed to see right through the layers I'd carefully built around myself. It was unsettling and intriguing all at once.

I stepped onto the set, ready to start the shoot. Valerian positioned himself behind the camera, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us. I could feel his focus, the way he watched me through the lens, capturing more than just an image. He was watching me. My struggle. My exhaustion. My frustration.

"Relax your shoulders," he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise in my head. "Just... breathe."

I exhaled slowly, letting the tension ease out of my body. Valerian's gaze never wavered, but there was no judgment there. Only understanding.

The camera clicked, and something shifted. It wasn't just about posing anymore. He wasn't just trying to capture an image. He was trying to understand the story beneath it. The one I wasn't ready to tell.

We moved through the shoot in near silence, but every shot felt like a conversation—one without words. And somehow, it felt easier than it should have. Natural.

At one point, Camila gave me a thumbs-up from the sidelines, mouthing, You're killing it. I smiled, feeling a flicker of warmth despite the exhaustion.

When the shoot wrapped, I lingered for a moment, unsure of what to say. Valerian stood by his equipment, adjusting the camera strap across his shoulder. There was a quiet intensity about him that hadn't faded, but now there was something else. Something softer.

"You did great," he said, his voice low but sincere.

I blinked, caught off guard by the warmth in his tone. "Thanks... I didn't feel great, to be honest."

Valerian shrugged slightly, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Sometimes, that's when you get the most honest work."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just nodded. But as we locked eyes for a brief moment, I felt something stir inside me. Something I hadn't felt in a long time. Not with Gabriel. Not with anyone.

Before I could get lost in the thought, Camila popped up between us, her bright smile breaking the tension.

"So, drinks later?" she asked, her arm looping through mine. "We've earned it."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Why not?"

Valerian smiled faintly, watching the two of us. "Maybe I'll see you around, Avenoir."

"Yeah," I said, surprising myself with how much I wanted that to be true. "Maybe you will."

As Camila and I walked out of the studio, I felt lighter, like I'd shaken off some of the weight I'd been carrying for weeks. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't thinking about Gabriel.