𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒.

CHAPTER ONE; Too much to ask.

Ophelia Persephone Grant. My father was a history teacher, with a keen intrigue for Greek mythology. My mother wouldn't let him choose my first name as she feared that the fool would choose something ridiculous– however he did just that ... only for my second name. I never liked it. But Alex did.

I'm originally from Camden ,London. It's noticeable, considering I live in the heart of Sheffield. I was often teased and mocked for my ' posh' accent growing up in the north. We moved when I was just 10 and it was definitely different from London. I still live there today infact! Of course, not with my parents (as I'd probably would have lost all aspects of sanity and patience.) but in Fulwood, Sheffield. A small apartment. I manage to maintain in endorsement to my part time job, in one of the local coffee shops, which recently had been renovated to fit a more rustic lucidity. Ontop of that my photography career which I'm still trying to triumph and steady the path of. Business is down at the minute, and Work is a little bit messy currently. one minute I'm shooting ethereal landscapes and human beauty, and then I'm being asked to slave away to bigger and bolder photographers, With more propaganda and fame to their name.

Today had been a prime example of just that. I was asked to photograph the outdoors and models in a collision and form, that would reference historical art. Upon hearing that, my ears perked up like a dog when it's been summoned to go for its well anticipated walk. My mind pondered on all the options I could do, too many thoughts. rattling at once, I was set on making a masterpiece that would beguile my boss , enough to perhaps get me the recognition I deserved? But alas... as I arrived to the location, there stood a mature looking man , with a setup and minimum crew of 3 helping him take the photos ,helping instruct him where the best angles were ,
and changing his camera lenses every so often. Confused, I introduced myself.

Making my way over, i heard the autumn leaves crunch beneath my feet, as I hiked my way over to the stranger. I tapped the mans shoulder to get his attention.

"Hi I'm Ophelia, I didn't know we were partnering up today??" I asked with a small smile to isolate the awkwardness.

"Never heard of you." He narrowed his eyes down at me tensely. His tone was firm and vicious.

He was plumpish and tall, with wispy grey hairs like storm clouds. And a light tan skin , that was tight around his cheekbones and jaw. He had an arrogant look on his face that seemed to intimidate everyone that surrounded him.

"Well I was directed here by my boss, Diane. To photograph the nature and a model and to subtly reference a historical art piece." Explaining my reason, I pulled out the email to give as evidence to the male.

The man looked at me down his nose. His eyes scoured over the email on my phone. He only read two lines, before snickering and obliging to discuss further arrangements. "Be of favour and get me a coffee, Emilia? Was it?" Spat the man.

Oh how I wanted to smack his smug face. I assumed Diane had bated me again. She had recently took habit in failing to let me know whether I was suppose to be behind the camera or being a personal fucking assistant, in which I didn't sign up for. But once again, business was low at the minute.
I bit my lip with a hesitancy to follow along with the mans orders, but i knew I'd be getting paid, and that was the main thing.

Around about six was when I got in. My boyfriend Jack was located in the kitchen preparing me a cup of tea ,for when I arrived back into my warm welcoming apartment. Jack always kept a spare key ,so he could visit whenever he desired. He was a lovely lad, we'd been going out for just over a year now. We met through mutual friends ,and it was basic attraction. He was tallish ,with brown hair that remained in one messy effortless style. He had stubble that complimented his elongated nose, in a unique way. With glassy blue eyes and a slim and toned build, He looked like the son of Roger Taylor and brian may.

Oh , how I was glad to see my home and lover. awaiting with a solace of auras. ready to be soothed of my stresses of the day. As I kicked off my shoes, guiding them to a pile to the side .I threw myself onto the sofa, feeling myself sink into its cotton abs.

"How was work, darlin'?" Jack echoed from the kitchen.

"Shit!" I replied. Running my hands over my face and leaving the palms to rest on the top of my cheekbones , rubbing my complexion in exhaustion.

Jacks voice lost its distance as he tread into the living room, holding two cups of tea. He wasn't very skilful, bless him. but bloody hell could that man make a good cup of tea.

I arose from my fatigued state, and held the mug. With a gentle nod signalling 'thank you." I placed the mug on the table to cool off.

"So What happened at work?" Jack asked.

"Well, Diane pulled one on me again. She told me I was supposed to be doing some shoot at this place, and when I got there, this dickhead made me his assistant for the day. You know I probably wouldn't even care so much if it weren't for the theme. I was actually excited. I had so many ideas for it y'know?"

Jack always seemed to lose interest whenever I ranted. He often complained in the past about how my accent made his ears hurt after a period of time. He nodded. staring off into space. I couldn't notice if he just didn't know what to say or whether he had no interest.

Either way I let out a sigh of dissatisfaction and my eyes rolled back ,as I recalled all the unnecessary errands I ran today.

"I Need to take some pictures that will impress Diane, and get me some recognition." I said to myself as my hand searched for the hot beverage.

Taking a sip I looked back at Jack who was now occupied by his phone. I shuffled myself along to his side, allowing my head to fall onto his shoulder. beginning to watch as his fingers tapped and guided the digital screen in his hands, as a form of entertainment. It appeared He was looking for local gigs to attend. when all of a sudden, I detected an all too familiar name.'ARCTIC MONKEYS.'

"Oh, Jack! stop ! wait." My eyes widened as I reread the band name.

I beamed a smile at him, hoping he would pick up on what I was hitting towards.

He looked at me with a disapproving look. "Why? They aren't even that good, phelia. I'm not spending 55 pound for some shit version of the strokes."

"It's Alex's band though. they're brilliant." I negotiated.

Jack had never met Alex. He knew about how Alex and I were as thick as thieves in our adolescence. I told him a few stories and about how we had lost contact, due to Alexs band becoming so successful. But he never really said much about it, I doubt he was jealous... I just think he lacks interest in them.

"Come onnnn. It'll be amazing! And hey maybe I could bring my camera get a few shots? Get that recognition I was talking about? Please, this means a lot to me." I pouted waiting for a response, hoping for it to be positive.

He stopped and let out a defeated sigh.
"Right Ok, FINE. Only cause I love you though, phelia."

A small giggle crept on my face, as now I began to fill with excitement of what awaited me.
"YES! THANK YOU!" I cried smacking a kiss on his lips and throwing my arms arms around his neck. "I'll pay for my ticket, darling! You won't regret it!"