Complicated

Chapter 9

*Keith's POV*

The studio buzzed with energy as I arrived, and I could feel the familiar thrill of excitement coursing through me. This was what I lived for—the chaos, the creativity, the constant push to be better, to capture something real and raw. I was here to work, but there was something in the air today that felt different.

I found Roger discussing details with the crew, and as I approached, he grinned widely, his enthusiasm infectious. "Keith! I'm glad you're here. We're going to make magic today," he said, clapping my shoulder.

"Yeah, let's hope so," I replied, trying to mirror his optimism. My thoughts drifted again to Ryan, and I couldn't help but wonder how she was feeling after our late-night arrival in New York.

"Have you spoken to Ryan yet?" Roger asked, and my heart raced at the mention of her name.

"No, not yet. I'm sure she's on her way," I said, forcing nonchalance into my voice.

"Well, we'll need to get started soon. The light in the studio is perfect for the first shots, and I want us to maximize every moment," Roger said, glancing at his watch.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity until I finally caught sight of Ryan entering the studio. My breath hitched slightly at the sight of her. She was wearing a simple white blouse paired with a fitted pair of jeans that accentuated her figure perfectly. Her hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves, and her expression was focused, determined. But there was a flicker in her eyes that hinted at something deeper—a vulnerability that tugged at something inside me.

"Hey, Ryan! Glad you made it!" Roger called out, waving her over.

"Sorry I'm late," she replied, a hint of breathlessness in her voice as she approached us. "I got lost trying to find the studio."

"Not a problem! We're just about to start," Roger said, gesturing toward the backdrop set up for the shoot. "Keith, why don't you take the lead for the first series of shots?"

"Sure," I replied, nodding. "Ryan, you ready?"

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze darting away as if searching for something, and I felt a pang of concern. "Yeah, I'm ready," she finally said, her voice steady.

As we stepped into position, the studio lights flickered to life, illuminating us both. The energy shifted as the cameras clicked and flashed, capturing moments that felt both spontaneous and choreographed. Ryan posed with confidence, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was holding back, like she was trying to keep the real emotions hidden beneath the surface.

"Ryan, I want you to feel this," I said during a brief pause, stepping closer. "Let the camera see you. Don't just pose; give it something real."

She nodded, her expression shifting slightly as if she were processing my words. I wanted her to let go, to embrace the moment fully, but I also sensed the walls she had built around herself.

The shoot continued, and with each click of the camera, I could feel the atmosphere in the room change. I watched as Ryan began to relax, her movements becoming more fluid, her expressions more genuine. She had a unique ability to convey emotions that drew the viewer in, and it was mesmerizing.

But as the session wore on, I noticed a flicker of doubt cross her face, a shadow that threatened to pull her back into herself. I knew that feeling all too well—the urge to retreat, to hide when things became overwhelming.

"Hey, can we take a break?" she suddenly asked, her voice tinged with urgency.

"Sure," I said, concerned. "You good?"