Calliope's ex-boyfriend, her high school sweetheart, crash-landed back into her life like a rom-com sequel she never ordered, ready to rewrite the script of her existence once again.
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"You...
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"No way. Uh-uh. Not going to happen. Did I say hell no? If not, hell to the no." Aurora's voice booms through the gallery, full of nerves. She's been pacing around for, like, twenty minutes now? Talking non-stop about how she's a serial quitter, and cannot do this.
On my way across the room to place a label, I stop and look into her chocolate brown eyes. "Yes! Yup. This is totally happening, and hell yes to the amount of money you'll lose if you back out. Either way, I'm not letting you. So, whine all you want."
She snickers. "You realize you'll get paid either way, right?"
"Your point?" I smirk and raise my eyebrow as I stroll to the other side of the room. "You're crazy talented, Aurora, and I'm gonna make sure everyone sees what I see, whether you like it or not." Yeah, this is my job, but I get attached to my clients, especially the newbies like Aurora. She's just twenty-three, no family, but she's making it work somehow if she can afford to keep me around for this long. She's a total inspiration to me.
The sun's setting as we wrap up the final touches for the upcoming show. Our handlers hung up her pieces exactly just as I directed, while Aurora priced and labeled. They're contracted through my company, and they go all out to capture her vision. We've been here for hours, and I finally sent them home for the day.
As the last rays of sunlight filter through the windows, I look around the gallery, feeling a sense of pride. Aurora's photographic talent is mesmerizing, and I know that once the show opens, it's going to be a huge success. She may doubt herself, but I believe in her with all my heart.
"My parents don't even have this much faith in me. I'm the one that got away, taking dumb little pictures that aren't even that good. My dad's exact words."
I get where she's coming from. If your parents don't believe in you, who the hell will? I mean, when my mom split, all I could think was that we weren't good enough. I wasn't good enough. Those thoughts stick with you through everything.
"Well, he's an idiot, but don't let him ruin this for you. You've worked really hard, and it's finally here. There's a bunch of people coming already, thanks to me and my amazing marketing skills. You're welcome," I say, jogging to the other side of the room to fix a crooked frame. "Hey, does this look okay to you?"
Keeping busy is key.
"A little more to the left," she says, signaling me when to stop. "My best friend said he invited some big shots with deep pockets. A little hope that people will buy something, and not think it's overpriced, thanks to you."
"Know your worth." Finally, I stand with her in the center of the floor. "Sounds like this best friend also has faith in you."
"I'm sure he said it to shut me up. He's been in a mood lately, chasing after some chick that doesn't even want him," she blurts out, her hand quickly covering her mouth before leaning forward. Her curly brown hair shields her face. "I shouldn't have said that, but he keeps blowing me off. I'm not sure he'll show, but I hope so. Outside of you, he made this happen for me."
