Pictures And Some Memories

Six: Twisting and Turning.

"Job well done, Rose," a voice drifted into my ear in a husky tone. I jumped and turned immediately, only to find Danny smirking as he held a half empty beer in his hand.

I glared. "You can't keep doing that, Kurily, especially when it's been months since I've seen you."

He grinned. "Quite the contrary, Andi. You're leaving already, anyways. Do you even plan on resting during this year off that we have?"

I looked around at the careful arrangement of my passions in the large space. No, I immediately said to myself. No way. Once I'd gotten back into the studio and worked on pieces, edited photos that I'd taken as we traveled, and put my energies into what I originally came to New York for, I didn't want to stop. I needed this year off more than I ever thought possible.

"I can't help that I've a wedding to be in," I grinned. Cara had called with the last minute request three weeks before in hysterics after finding out that the bridesmaid that was supposed to be in couldn't get the day off for the wedding and now left an open spot. She also apologized for not asking originally, but I was still out of range when she began to plan it all. I knew it'd be bold to accept the position considering he would be in the wedding party, too, but I didn't want to disappoint Cara. So, I accepted her offer and amazingly fit into the former bridesmaid's dress without a hitch. Tomorrow would be my final fitting, almost as soon as I arrived in California. The nerves about that made me sick enough, but this gallery was also my most important one thus far. So far my reception was great, but it was still early, after all.

"Oh yeah, the same friends that you saw on your birthday, right?" I nodded. "That's awesome! Do you need me to make an appearance in case Mr. Asshole himself tries to bother you?"

I rolled my eyes. "He's not an asshole," I found myself defending him, although a small part of me agreed with the nickname. Danny didn't know the extent of the bitterness between him and I, and I doubted he ever would. I wouldn't allow myself to open that chapter again, not anytime soon.

"Anyone that makes one of my best friends cry on their birthday is an asshole in my book," he said unapologetically, finishing his beer in two quick gulps. "You didn't answer my question, Chica. Do I need to go or nah?"

The alcohol is already getting to him, I thought before saying, "Nope, that'll be Larkin's job. He's gonna come out and meet my parents and all that good stuff."

Just as I finished, he motioned to take another drink of his beer, only to remember that it was empty. "Oh yeah? Well I hope you guys, uh, have fun," he says quickly, then turns to observe one of the photography prints I had hanging on the wall. "Is that from when we were in the alley near that sex shop in London?"

I eyed him curiously, wondering why the tone of his voice seemed to change when he spoke, as if he were disappointed, perhaps? I shook it off; maybe I was reading too far into it because of my anxiety about tonight. "Yeah, right after I had to flirt with that guard to let me even have access to that area," I grinned. The poor security guard was supposed to block off the alley-- with it being so close to a sex shop, I wasn't entirely too clueless on the reasoning-- but there was this mural that I wanted to photograph Carly in front of. The mural contained swirls of bright greens and other cool colors, and was just simply beautiful in my eyes. Plus, Carly had just had a disaster at the hair salon-- they dyed her hair an abrasive hot pink instead of fire engine red, and for once, her hair looked amazing against the swirls of color.

"Good thing your stepsister fixed it as soon as we got back to the States," Carly's bright voice appeared out of nowhere. "Serena is a goddess when it comes to hair."