What is it that we all want? The paths we follow are different, but we're all guided by a feeling of desire. The desires that drive this man, however, might bring him closer to his demise. There's new definition to the phrase "follow your dreams."
Lamar's eyes wondered about, surveying the surrounding scenery from the confines of his vehicle. Although his curiosity wasn't of concern; rather, it was from eagerness. The streets of the suburbia were barren; the only movement arising from rustling trees and scattered leaves. He remembered this area being a bit more lively in his earlier years. That was of course, perhaps, because of the influence of his sister's popularity. His memories rewound like a movie reel, associating every facet of the area with some childish antic of his doing. Since then, he hadn't been to this side of town; he had no real reason to. But tonight was an exception, since Rayna offered to accompany him for a few drinks. He wasn't an alcoholic, but the aspect of social drinking gave him an excuse to thaw his cold facade.
He checked his watch, then referred back to a log of text messages to ensure he'd arrived on time. To no mistake on his part, she had not emerged from her living quarters. He decided against pressing her to rush, knowing full well that was a fruitless endeavor. Instead he fetched his backpack from the rear seat, extracting his camera from one of the compartments. Amid his anticipation for tonight, he hadn't reviewed the footage from the shoot. Lamar had developed a formulaic strategy for his sessions; one which he normally was confident satisfied his customers. In the very rare event which he took on male patrons, he'd opted for a more on-the-fly approach.
This particular client was rather 'unique', for a lack of better words. The guy went by the name Isaac Harper; rumor around the studio was that he was a thriving musician.
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Despite the widespread hearsay, nobody was familiar with his work. Granted, his generous payment was enough to verify the claim. His peculiar flair was fitting for his line of work however. He donned the look of a gothic playboy; two styles that normally don't coexist, yet, there he was. Despite his grandiose appearance, he didn't request anything too extravagant. The shoot consisted of a few headshots and glamour shots. All of which came out pretty well, as Lamar took review of his own work. He seldom came across naturally photogenic clients. Isaac possessed a refined facial structure, a smooth bronze complexion and crimpy hair. Lamar insisted he would probably gain more exposure as a model than a musician.
Overall, the shoot was a rather easy job that took no time at all. For the remainder of the session, Isaac took photos with some 'fans' around the studio. As a part of tradition, he even agreed to do a group shot. He took notice of the photo, and scanned over it in it's s entirety. The staff at 'The Beat Boutique' was a modest, quaint selection of cosmetologists handpicked by his sister. Over the years, the crew remained fairly unchanged; in spite of the occasional additions, Lamar had become accustomed to their faces. But, his eyes were coaxed to this one girl in particular who he didn't recall. She's beautiful, he thought to himself. He had no recollection of her being present at the shoot, and he knew for certain she didn't work at the shop. Yet, he couldn't quite ignore a sense of familiarity with her. Her enchanting eyes drew him in like a moth to a flame; it was as if the camera lens was an extension to his soul.
