“First time on a chairlift?” Hans asked good-naturedly.
Drew had one chance to make a good impression, but as he made the mistake of looking down and seeing how high up they were, he realized there was no chance he’d be able to play it cool.
“Does it show?” he said, trying not to sound as rattled as he felt.
“You look like you’re about to throw up,” Hans chuckled.
He was, but Drew couldn’t throw up next to one of the most legendary documentarians in the world. It was the kind of embarrassment he’d be thinking about at two a.m. for the rest of his life. So, he closed his eyes to try to dull the vertigo.
“Talking is a good enough distraction to stop you from thinking about the height,” Hans said.
Maybe it was the fact that he was hundreds of feet above the ground and the altitude was messing with his head, but as soon as Hans mentioned talking, Drew came up with an idea. He and Luiz had talked about the danger of meeting your heroes before having something to talk to them about, but what if he could show Hans his work instead? So, before he could come to his senses or convince himself he was about to make a terrible decision, he opened his mouth.
“Can I take a photo of you?”
Drew had been taking photos of strangers for years, and withan assignment from Zeus to get behind-the-scenes photos of interesting people, Hans seemed like the perfect candidate.
“Why?”
Drew explained his assignment as Hans nodded along.
“We’ve still got five minutes to go,” Hans said, looking down at the slope and shrugging. “Go ahead.”
After forcing himself to ignore the height they were at and double-checking that his camera strap was tightly secured around his neck, Drew pulled out his phone. It was much easier to capture a person’s personality when they were telling a story, and he figured that a few quotes from Hans would make his photo diary feel extra special. So, Drew tappedRECORDon the voice memo app and framed the shot. There was something extremely daunting about holding a camera up to a man with several Oscars under his belt. But it was too late to back down.
One of the things Drew had learned about Hans from watching his documentaries was that he hadn’t picked up his first professional camera until his mid-thirties. Hans had begun his life as an alpine skier. He’d competed in the 1972, 1976, and 1980 Winter Olympics and won two gold medals for Team Austria before making his first documentary. So, rather than asking him about his career in film, Drew decided to ask about the life he’d left behind.
“Tell me about your final Olympics. How did you feel on the slopes?”
Hans stopped and thought about it for a moment. He turned his head, looked out at the snowy mountains, and smiled a little. “When I was at my peak, I loved the feeling of the snow beneath my skis. Some of the best moments of my life were on the slopes. But things started to change at the end of the seventies.” Drew took photos as Hans spoke, double-checking that his phone wasstill recording. Hans’s face was framed by a brilliant blue sky, glittering snow, and the warm early-afternoon light.
“I was halfway down the mountain, flying through the air knowing that I was on track to win another medal. But then I realized with complete clarity… that I hate the cold,” Hans said, laughing. “I told my coach that I was retiring because I’d achieved everything I’d set out to. But the real reason I left the sport was because I couldn’t bear the thought of putting on seven layers of thermals again or feeling my toes freeze midair. So, guess what I did as soon as I went home with my gold medal?” Hans paused and smiled at the camera. “Booked a holiday to the Bahamas.”
Drew couldn’t believe he’d finally gotten an answer to the question people had been asking Hans for years. They were just a few yards away from the bottom of the mountain. But he figured there was enough time to ask one more question.
“So, what brought you back to the mountains today? Besides working on your next film?”
Hans’s expression dropped a little as he looked out at the snow. A ray of light hit the side of his cheek, and for a moment, everything felt still. So, Drew took a photo. He didn’t need to search through his camera to know that this was the best one he’d taken all day. When Hans answered this time, he kept his gaze on the mountains.
“When I was your age, I thought that all the good in my life would come back around again. That the magical winters and people I’d met in the snow would always be a part of my life. But they’re not, and I’m starting to realize that some chapters are closed for good,” said Hans, who was still looking out at the sky. Drew immediately started thinking about his grandma and how right he’d been to move back home. But in the same breath, he thought about USC and the life he’d left behind in California. Hans continued speaking.
“I hear the kids say ‘what’s for you won’t miss you,’ and I like the sentiment, but it’s not always true. Some things only come around once or twice in a lifetime, so I’ve decided to stop missing chances to go back up into the mountains.” Hans turned his head away from the view and looked back at the camera. “Also, I heard rumors about a secret hot chocolate bar in this year’s Village, so I had no choice but to book a flight.” He chuckled as the chairlift came to the end of its route.
When they arrived at the bottom of the mountain, Drew and Hans parted ways. Hans went to lunch with his film crew and Drew ran to the nearest café. He knew a good story when he saw one and, while this probably wasn’t what Zeus meant by behind-the-scenes content, nobody in their right mind would pass up an interview with a legend like Hans Leitner. So, Drew opened his laptop and began to edit. He needed to get it all over to the team at Zeus while the skiing competitions were still in full swing. But his laptop kept getting stuck at 11 percent when he tried to upload and send the photos.
Drew looked around at the sea of journalists in the café; they were all on their laptops and phones. No wonder the internet was so slow here. So, he packed his bag, left the café, and sprinted to the press office, almost slipping on the ice. His internet connection got stronger as soon as he reached the front door. By the time he’d walked through the reception and showed the security guards his credentials, his upload increased to 29 percent. He walked past a pair of France 24 presenters, and the upload went up to 42 percent. He waved at an NDTV journalist he’d chatted with during the opening ceremony as it rose to 72 percent. And then, just as he was about to turn the corner and head over to Luiz’s desk, it got to 100 percent and finally concluded.
“Yes!” he said, pumping his fist into the air. He walked over to Luiz’s desk to tell him about it. But when he looked up from hislaptop, he realized that it wasn’t Luiz sitting at the desk watching him.
“I knew you’d be happy to see me,” Ari said with a smile, “but notthathappy.”
Drew’s fist was still frozen midair. He brought it down and tried to shake off his embarrassment as he closed his laptop. His mind wandered back to the kiss they’d shared last night.
“So, what happened tonever again?” he said, trying his best to play it cool.
“I changed my mind,” she said, spinning around in the chair as if to avoid his eyes. She seemed just as nervous as she’d been after their kiss last night. It was cute.
“How did you find me?” he asked, curious.
