Spring on campus always felt like chaos. Voices carried across the quad, loud and unfiltered, as students spilled out of lecture halls. Laughter, debates, gossip—it was everywhere, like a symphony I didn't belong to. I walked along the edges of the path, where the crowd thinned, my camera bag bouncing against my hip.
Blending in came naturally to me. People didn't really notice me, and I preferred it that way. Being invisible was easier, safer.
I adjusted the strap of my bag and ducked into the journalism building, where it smelled like old books and burnt coffee. It was a comforting kind of stale, far from the sunlight and noise outside. I had a few hours to kill before my shift in the darkroom, and I couldn't wait to disappear into the familiar glow of the red light.
"Hey, Heather!"
The voice made me stop. I turned to see Jake, one of the editors for the campus paper, jogging toward me. He was tall and always seemed a little too eager, like a puppy desperate for attention.
"Got a sec?" he asked, not waiting for an answer.
I shrugged. "Sure, what's up?"
Jake grinned, holding up a stack of flyers. "We're covering the theater department's spring production. Thought you'd be perfect for the photography assignment."
"Photography?" I repeated, a hint of skepticism slipping into my voice. I wasn't exactly passionate about photographing people, especially not in staged environments. Landscapes, nature life, candid shots—that was my thing.
"Yeah, it's a big deal this year. They're doing some avant-garde thing—experimental sets, wild lighting. The head designer is supposed to be a genius or something."
I hesitated, my fingers tightening on the strap of my bag. The idea of photographing a chaotic theater production wasn't exactly appealing. But assignments like this were good for my grades and my portfolio, and the theater department always attracted a crowd.
"You in?" Jake asked, eyes gleaming with the kind of enthusiasm I wished I had.
"Fine," I said finally, letting out a slow breath. "When do they start rehearsals?"
"Tomorrow. I'll send you the details." He handed me a flyer before darting off, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.
I glanced down at the paper. Midnight Streets, it said in bold, cursive letters. Beneath it, a list of names—actors, directors, designers. I didn't recognize any of them, but one caught my eye: Olivia Parker, Scenic Designer.
The name meant nothing to me then, just another detail in a sea of others. But little did I know that, soon, that name would mean more than I ever thought it would.
YOU ARE READING
Tethered Light
Romance"Before the chaos, there was quiet. Before the darkness, there was light." This story is a prequel to Echoes of Us and Through the Lens of You, where Heather takes us back to her college years - seven years before that fateful night when she met Bil...
