Super Girl ✩ {being edited}

Chapter Twelve

Melanie watches me closely, I can tell from the corner of my eye as I run my fingers through my hair, try to correct my make-up by checking my reflection in my phone screen for what must seem like the millionth time to her.

"You look good, Miss Nicholls" she reassures me. 

"I'm nervous, sorry" I shrug in an attempt to laugh of my nervousness. "Hate having my photo taken." 

"Me too" she confesses. "We should've thought about this from the start." Then she takes a deep breath, patting my arm lightly. "It'll be okay though." 

"How are you comforting me right now?" I chuckle, shaking my head jokingly. 

"You taught me a lot about self-acceptance, don't diminish all that by being openly insecure about how you look right now. What am I supposed to think if you don't follow your own advice?" 

I roll my eyes, scoffing exaggeratingly as I knock on the door. "You have become way too wise."

The door opens and I'm blinded by a bright flash of light.

"Sorry!" The nasal voice of the guy on the other side of the light calls and the moment I can see again, I follow Melanie into the studio, see her rubbing her eyes as well. Then, a lanky guy comes into view, dressed in a pair of brown, rolled up trousers and a white, buttoned shirt with suspenders draped over his shoulders. His camera that just impaired our sight is dangling around his neck. "Sorry about that" he chirps again, clearing his throat. "I like to surprise people with a candid at the door. Usually turns out to be the best shot even. Most authentic, you know?"

He's speaking quickly and I can hardly keep up, his voice nasal and croaky. I give a slow nod. "Right, um ... I'm Bev" I state, unsure if an introduction is what he wants. 

He laughs, grabbing my hand and shaking it briefly. "Hi, yeah, you're Daley's roommate. I'm Oli. And you are..." 

"Melanie." She shakes his hand as well, but she looks as puzzled as me. 

"Right! So!" He says, clapping his hands together. "You sent me the e-mail with your concept and what the photos are kind of like ... supposed to express. I love the project, by the way, if I had the money, I'd totally invest in it, but hey, look around" he cackles, gesturing vaguely to the sparsely furnished space around him, then running his fingers through his hair to smooth back the stray strands that have fallen over his forehead from his face.

Besides his equipment, there is not much else in the small room. "I live one floor up, that flat's not much bigger either though" he continues. "Literally got nothing. This camera is the most expensive thing I own, baby girl" he mumbles absently as he presses a few buttons on his camera, then he looks back up. "Where did I put my glasses?" 

Melanie picks them up before his gaze has wandered across the entirety of the room. "These?" 

"Thank you!" He calls, draping the thick brown frames on his nose. "Let's get started. Both of you look great, I mean, don't need to change, but I do have some clothes in the back, if you think you do. But we don't want anything over the top, you're just trying to introduce yourselves, portrait shots maybe, or something more casual, definitely no posing. We'll see how that one from the door turned out later, that might even be it." 

I raise an eyebrow, smiling. "I doubt it." 

He raises his eyebrows right back at me, his eyes wide behind the glass and as he speaks again, his voice is pure sarcasm, no challenging edge or tease to it. "Am I the professional or not?"

And as it turns out, he is. Despite usually not really knowing what to do with  a camera being pointed at me, I find myself feeling nothing but comfortable because on the other side of it, he doesn't suggest any awkward poses, he doesn't judge, and he knows exactly what he's doing.