“What’s wrong?”
“Some people just asked me to take their picture, which I did, and… it’s the most horrendous shot ever taken. I could alreadysense more people walking toward me, as if they had the same idea, and…” I shook my head. “They’ll expect to see these after the wedding, but never in a million years?—”
“Your pictures can’t be that bad.”
“Theo,” I said, our gazes interlocking. I pressed my lips together, keeping all the bad words I wanted to say about everything I’d done that day inside.
He tipped his head back, his eyes unfocused for a moment, as they turned inward. “You could just send those people over to me. Or not. They’ll all be so drunk in an hour that no one will ever remember asking you, I promise.”
“I really don’t want to mess with your reputation here.”
“Look, I’m not going to ask you to stay if you don’t want to.” He turned his head back to me, wrinkling his nose, almost as if this wasn’t just about me giving up on the learning opportunity, but about him not wanting to be here entirely alone. But then his usual smirk appeared. “I will mock you, though, if you use this as an excuse not to keep pushing through. At least, a little.” From the few days I’d known him, I had no doubt that he meant it. He leaned forward and put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t give up now, just because it’s not working yet. If my approach to photography isn’t for you, you’ll have to findyourown way to get the result. Maybe you’re better off doing it like one of your nature shoots. Maybe you need to look for a single story that interests you, and then you follow it discreetly.”
“I appreciate your help and everything, but… I really think I should leave. I can’t connect to this at all. And I really don’t want to mess things up for you.”
“That’s okay.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Just promise me one thing. When you leave, go through the tent and chateau one last time without taking any pictures. Just…lookat the people.”
“What good would that do?”
“Probably nothing. But I don’t want to give up mentoring you until it’s truly over.” Letting go of my shoulder, he stuck out his tongue as if we were still in our twenties and this was totally normal behavior for our age. “And I still want to see your horrible attempts sometime soon.”
“So you can mock me?”
“So I can learn from them myself.” He winked at me, his face warm and understanding, then turned around, heading back toward the tent, toward the job he couldn’t just abandon like me.
A lump formed in my throat as his words rushed through my mind. Despite my strong urge to leave, I wanted to honor his suggestion. Five more minutes wouldn’t kill me.
I walked toward the tent. The grass rustled beneath my feet. Chatter and laughter turned into a cacophony that wanted everythingandnothing from me. Sentences not meant for me made their way to my ears.
“…these are the ugliest bridesmaids’ dresses I’ve ever seen…”
“…I puked so hard that I swore I’d never drink again. But here we are, and it’s not even two p.m. yet…”
“…Tom’s so sad he couldn’t make it, but that’s the life of a sheriff…”
Therewerestories here. But none that I could ever get into a picture.
My eyes were fixed on the ground, which made it easier to hear what they were saying. Their shoes danced across the floor as if part of a choreographed routine—not pure chaos.
“…we shouldn’t. Not today. We can’t make this about us,” a deep voice said with urgency. “Meet me at my car in five minutes.”
I raised my head to peek at who was speaking. It was the bride’s brother. Leaning in close—though careful not to get too close—he addressed the tall groomsman, who had swapped hisbasketball uniform for an elegant dark blue suit and matching bow tie.
Something stirred within me. Their words were like a stone reaching the bottom of the lake that was my soul, stirring up the ground that had been undisturbed for a decade.
The two men shared a pained smile, as if they were reassuring each other without words. Then, the bride’s brother pulled away from the conversation and sauntered toward the exit. The tall groomsman stared at his phone for a minute, hiding his other hand in his pants pocket, then left too.
Despite being heavily intrigued by the implications of what drama might ensue from this short snippet that I caught, I certainly didn’t want to look like I was intentionally following him. So I honored Theo’s wishes and didn’t take any shortcuts. I walked through the chateau’s dining room, watching the servers hustling around to get a buffet ready under the watchful eye of a seasoned man in dress pants and a button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves. The wedding planner frantically talked to an officiant whose eyes were so wide open from all the words thrown at him that he seemed to have checked out entirely before the ceremony even began. I made my way past an unimpressive staircase in the main hall that clashed with the otherwise luxurious interior. I caught a glimpse of the bridesmaids lined up at the top, probably watching the bride get ready for her big moment. They resembled hens on a perch more than they’d probably like. For a second, I thought about taking a picture of them, but my gut told me to keep moving. It dragged me outside toward the stairs that led to the parking lot.
Now that every space was filled, it was easier to spot the bride’s brother’s blond hair. He leaned against a black sports car and stared at the tall guy as he slowly approached. I stopped short in the middle of the steps, between the trees, so they wouldn’t see me.
The basketball player had his hands buried in his pockets and was shaking his shoulders from side to side when he said something—probably a joke that fell flat, because the reply from the bride’s brother made the basketball player drop his head to his chest. Neither of them moved for a moment until the basketball player looked up and leaned forward. They met in a passionate kiss. They gave themselves to it for three seconds before the bride’s brother pulled away. He turned his head left and right, searching for anyone who might have seen.
My feet moved on instinct, turning me around and leading me back up the stairs toward the chateau again. As much as I wanted to give them their privacy, I couldn’t shake off the thought that this could be the story I was searching for, the well-kept secret that I could try to capture in pictures no one would ever get to see, besides Theo and me. The image I wanted to shoot of them materialized in my head, the same way all the pictures I worked hard to get had once appeared before my inner eye. What I had in mind wasn’t a secret kiss like the one I’d just watched; that would’ve been way too obvious and boring. No, I wanted to capture a moment when those two shared a glance that revealed their hidden love while everyone else was focused on the people they’d come to honor. Using their secret for my purposes wasn’t the most ideal situation, but in the end, it was a secret I was going to keep, especially since I would likely never see any of the people present here today ever again anyway.
My head raced. Maybe I’ve really approached this all wrong. Maybe I didn’t have to change my artistic approach at all, but rather embrace it, just with people as my subject. Sure, I couldn’t stand as still as I do with unmovable landscapes and buildings, waiting for the right moment. But I could still keep my camera ready and focus on what I had in mind, as I did for every other picture.
From one moment to the next, I didn’t want to leave anymore; I wanted to stay and see whether I could adapt my skills to the situation, now that I had found something that I wanted to photograph. If that was Theo’s goal when he sent me on one last walk through the wedding, then he succeeded spectacularly.
