Fish Eyes

5

I swung the doors of my parents' studio open not even a whole day later, no shame at all.

When Lawrence had asked me to try modeling instead of photography, my mind automatically went to the Young Art competition. Even though I'd dismissed the possibility, I couldn't help but think, What if I could use that to win the competition? 

Sadly, modeling wasn't a category.

Modeling wasn't high art, or really art at all. It was just genetically skinny and tall people making themselves sick to be skinnier and fit into clothes and walk down runways. Anyone could walk, I thought. I practiced my runway walk all the way into the back, hoping to find Lawrence where I saw him the first time I came through.

"Dalia?" I heard two voices. One was the secretary, who I'd uncharacteristically walked past, and the other was...

"Lawrence?" I blushed at how I'd been foolishly strutting down the hall. "My bad, I thought you'd be in the back."

I sped over to the front desk and signed myself in before approaching him.

"Reconsidered my offer that quick, eh?"

"That wasn't," I tried to explain, knowing I'd look even dumber if I tried. "Nevermind. No, that's not what I'm here for."

I couldn't get apply for Young Art as a model, or a photographer, but I could apply as...

A photographer.

Yeah that made no sense, but I thought it was a genius idea at first. That notion was fading the more I looked into Lawrence's thoughtful brown eyes.

I rocked back and forth on my heels.

"You know you're pretty handsome. You could just prop that camera up on a tripod and model for yourself."

A blush tinged his cheeks. "Not my thing, but thank you. And since it's not your thing either apparently, why are you here?"

"Why are you all of a sudden doing freelancing if you work here already and make good money?" I asked him instead of answering his question. It was something that I thought to ask the night prior when he was in my room, but I was more focused on getting him out of my room than anything. I was trying to delay asking him my question because it felt dumber by the second.

He blinked. "Answering a question with a question, I see."

"How do you know I didn't come to ask the question?"

This earned a smirk. "I didn't go to college straight out of high school because I wanted to take care of my family and be there for them. My dream only school was up in New York and that's too far. I was cool with staying and growing here, but my fam thinks I'm stunting my growth. They gave me until summer of next year to make something of myself, by myself, and if I don't, this time is a gap year and I go back to school."

"But don't you want to go to school?"

"Not really, no. I'd rather just work. I don't need to spend four years in a classroom learning how to take a picture. And again, New York's too far."

"Fuck," I swore to myself.

"And this disappoints you why?"

I began reconsidering my offer entirely. It made no sense to begin with, and it made even less sense as I listened to Lawrence speak some more. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"I don't think it's nothing... you've been here more the past couple weeks than you have in years. So, what's up?" he set whatever had been in his hands down on his sitting stool and looked at me.

"You know I really meant the model thing. You're a looker," I complimented.

His honey cheeks blushed red. "Anything else?"

"There's a competition," was all I could get out before pausing to draw in a breath. My hands kind of flailed in front of me, indicating how hard I was trying to make my offer sound appealing. 

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"And I was thinking... we could enter as partners. As a duo."

He snorted a few times until it turned into a full-blown giggle before looking at me and seeing that I still looked nervous. "Wait... you're serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I'd hate to be mean... but," he giggled some more. "If I wanted to enter a photography contest, I could just do it myself."

I folded my arms in front of my chest, now offended. "I get that I'm not the... best photographer. But I haven't even seen your work. How do I know you're up to scratch?"

"And yet you're up here asking for my assistance. I would've thought you assumed," he smirked at me, suddenly less sweet than he'd been our past couple of meetings. I almost forgot he was a guy until then. I cleared my throat.

"Bro, just do it. The winners get four year scholarships, and I need it. I need that."

He raked a hand through his hair. "You're not making any type of sense right now. Your family has money," he motioned around the large studio. "and I don't want to go to school. What do either of us gain from this?"

He was right. I'd started and quit this endeavor before reaching the starting line a thousand times. I didn't know why I kept returning to this point, knowing there was nothing for it. My shoulders sagged.

"Yeah, you're right I guess. I just thought it might be cool," I avoided looking at him. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"I doubt that unless you find another reason to come up here." he smiled.

"And you're right again. Bye, Lawrence."

-

Jhené Aiko: Never Call Me

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