19 - Lauren
Lauren
I couldn’t sleep at all that night.
It was like some twist on the uncanny valley effect to see Rafe that rattled. He looked like Rafe but at the same time that acute look of fear on his face was such a far cry from any version of him I knew that it felt terrifying.
I was terrified for him. Then terrified of my terror for him.
I woke up with dark circles under my eyes and knew it was going to be a concealer-heavy day today.
Brock and Callum arrived very early in the morning, already rearing to go.
I wasn’t surprised at all to see Callum with a bunch of beautiful hand-picked flowers.
Even though he knew about Rafe, that didn’t stop him from noticing my concern and trying to make me feel better about it, regardless of how he tried to couch the action as casual thoughtfulness.
Nothing about Callum was ever just casual.
“I saw these on the way here and thought of you, Miss Lauren,” he said, handing them over with his characteristic charm.
“You’re so sweet, thank you,” I said, smelling them. Seeing his familiar face with its usual calm and warm expression, I wanted to give him a hug and feel his comfort. I missed that anchor. I needed something solid in the face of whatever the hell was going on with Rafe.
But I realized I couldn’t because Brock was right next to him, his face looking like a slapped ass and I knew a hug was only going to make it worse.
“I’d be worried about that if I were you,” he grunted at me, ignoring the glare Callum shot at him. “He stole those from your neighbor’s garden.”
“All that proves is that I have a bad side, too,” Callum said, turning his attention back to me and ignoring Brock’s snort. “If you like that kind of thing.”
I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. My cheeks actually hurt. “I happen to like you just the way you are, Cal.”
“And I more than like you,” Callum said, then went the reddest I’d ever seen him to date. I didn’t think he meant to actually voice that thought out loud. But the air was heavy with that unsaid word, and I felt like a deer in the headlights until Brock cleared his throat emphatically.
“Yeah, we have a clock to beat and we’re one man down until Rafe decides to show up,” he said in his foreman voice. Then he turned to Callum. “It’s gonna be an extra load for the two of us while we pick up his slack. Ready?”
Callum nodded and I welcomed the two of them inside before getting ready for the day and my first booking since I moved to Chicago. With everything that happened with Rafe, I didn’t even get the chance to be excited about it but work was exactly the break I needed.
It was a band photo shoot contracted by one of Clara’s friends’ colleagues’ pet sitter’s kid’s teacher or some weird connection like that.
But either way, I was grateful beyond words, both to Clara for even facilitating that connection but also for the opportunity itself.
This was what I needed, to be back in my element and regain some sense of normalcy.
I cleaned up, grabbed my camera, a speedlight and some extra LED sticks. I managed to bundle everything up and headed out, only to almost collide with a still-somber looking Rafe.
“Hey,” I said in surprise, stopping to talk to him for a bit but all he did was nod his head in greeting and continue straight into the firehouse. I went cold all over, with shock or anger or, God forbid, more fear.
I watched as he disappeared behind the doors, staring for a few moments after he was long gone. Sudden movement caught my attention and my head snapped down the road to see a random car slowly roll by, its windows suspiciously tinted for a quaint little pocket in Chicago.
My gut screamed at me that something wasn’t right. In all the time I’d spent here so far, cars didn’t just slow-roll by the firehouse for no reason, let alone one with tinted windows. I waited until it disappeared before I continued on my way to meet my Uber.
When I was safe in the back seat of the car, I texted Clara.
Me: Hey. Weirdness is happening. Just saw a weird tinted car drive by the firehouse.
Clara: Are you sure you’re not just nervous for the shoot today and the Rafe thing? Maybe a bit skittish?
Me: No, I mean it. Something was off, they drove slowly. Like they were looking for something.
Clara: Oh. That’s different. Any idea of who it could be?
Me: Maybe one of the protesters? These preservation maniacs are starting to creep me out and I’m so over this shit.
Clara: I hear you. We’re gonna get them off your tail soon enough.
I hoped she was right.
On the bright side, the shoot’s location was set in an abandoned warehouse, which meant lots of fun textures and interesting ways to manipulate the light to really take this to the next level.
It went well and for the first time in months, I felt wholly like myself. Not a woman caught between three men who knew what she wanted but was still torn when it came to getting it, or the target of smear campaigns or the outsider of a community that very clearly wanted nothing to do with me.
I was just Lauren with a camera, and I was damn good at my job.
The band was a breakout group whose music straddled a gritty, almost classic type of rock and a sugary mass-appealing pop that was ironic but, hell, was still pretty good.
The client was happy with the concept of a light-and-shadow theme, playing with the natural environment.
It was nice to just fall into the patterns behind composition work, and by the end of the shoot, both the band and their manager were pleased.
As I showed them some of the shots through my camera, the manager shared a look with the lead member, who seemed to nod in approval.
“Lauren, these are perfect,” the manager said, pulling out his phone. “To thank you, we’d love to give you and a few friends free VIP tickets to our show this weekend.”
“That’s really generous of you,” I said. “I really dig your music so it should be an awesome time.”
“Great! I’ve just sent them via email. I hope this is the start of a long collaborative relationship,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it gratefully.
You and me both, buddy, I thought. You guys pay well.
I came back from the photo shoot on cloud nine, feeling more optimistic about everything now that I was starting to work again.
It was more than just a chance to exercise my passion or make sure I kept a roof over my head, it was a chance to reestablish myself again.
I let myself soak in it, right up until I walked through the door of the firehouse.
Rafe was finally vocal again, except this time he wasn’t speaking. He was shouting at Brock and Brock was shouting back. I’d never seen either of them this angry before.