Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
S kye
"I am so embarrassed!" I wail to Elisabetta as she gets ready for bed. "Scratch that. I'm mortified. Please go and dig a grave for me right now."
"You're so dramatic, Skye." She looks over her shoulder at me as she grabs a makeup remover wipe and starts rubbing it against her skin. "It's fine."
"No, it's not fine. I was freaking acting like a fool and trying to make my boss jealous and telling him he was jealous and the guy was not into me."
"Well, I mean, you thought he was into you."
"Yeah, I thought he was into me, but turns out that I don't have the body parts that he's looking for."
"You could always get some if you want," she says, giggling.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've never heard of strap-ons?" She tilts her head to the side. "Actually, I wonder."
"You wonder what?"
"I wonder if a gay guy would be with a woman if she had a strap-on on."
I stare at her, not blinking.
She looks up and gives me a wry smile. "Sorry. I guess that's not the most helpful right now."
"No, it's not helpful right now. I'm not about to go and buy a strap-on and go back to the bar and ask Osprey if he wants to pretend he's into me and not kiss his boyfriend so that I can tell my jerk face of a boss that he is actually, in fact, jealous of me and my new man." I groan. "Oh, what is going on in my life?"
"I don't know, girl, but I feel like you need to get some dick."
"Excuse me? That's your answer to me?"
"That would solve a lot of problems, right? If you got some dick, then you could legitimately make your boss jealous. And if you got some dick, it would most probably be with someone who wanted to give you the dick and not picture you as a handsome man."
I glare at her some more.
"What? I mean, maybe if you cut your hair, grew out a mustache and a beard, flattened your breasts. Of course, in all reality you’d most probably have to cut them off."
"Don't gay guys like breasts?" I ask her.
"Yeah, but not for fun in the bedroom," she says, giggling. "Sorry. I'll stop."
I sigh. "Oh my gosh. How am I going to go to work on Monday? He probably thinks I'm a fool. And then he was all there with his beautiful model look alike laughing in my face."
"I didn't see him laughing in your face, Skye."
"I'm exaggerating. He wasn't laughing in my face, but he was for sure smirking. Oh, this sucks."
"At least you have your date tomorrow with your blind date."
"Yeah, that's true," I say, starting to feel a little bit better. "And he's obviously interested in women because he was on a dating app looking for a woman."
"I mean, technically."
“Technically? Explain.”
"Obviously he's interested in women to some degree, but he could be bi, girl. Or queer."
"Okay, and your point is?"
"My point being that just because he's interested in women doesn't mean he's not interested in anyone else." She shrugs. "I'm just being honest with you so you don't get your hopes up just in case you see him on another date with a guy or something."
"Thanks, Elisabetta. Like, what are you doing to me right now?"
"Sorry. It's the drinks and…I don't know. Maybe I need some dick myself."
"Yeah, I think you do."
"And I don't mean from anyone I already know. I want to be wooed."
"I want to be wooed as well, Elisabetta."
"I know. Should we go speed dating or something?"
"Not again." I shake my head. "The last time we went it was absolutely awful. I mean, at least you've got some options. What options do I have?"
"Well, you have your boss."
"He's not an option."
"But then those other two guys."
"Which other two guys?"
"Gabe and what was the other guy's name?"
"Max? Max is with Lila."
"No, not Max. That Remington guy. The one with the dark eyes and that sexy smile."
"Oh, he's Juniper's boss. He's a jackass as well."
"Oh, yeah. I guess you guys did form the Annoying Hot Bosses Club."
"Well at least the hot bosses part is right. Why do hot men have to be such jerks?" I mumble. "It's just so unfair."
"Life is unfair."
"You sound like my mom."
"Sorry," she says, giggling. "So do you want to do a Korean face mask with me before we go to bed?"
"I might as well." I grab one of the makeup remover wipes and start rubbing it against my skin as well. "Are we going to be single forever?"
I sigh, thinking that this could be our life in thirty years. I love Elisabetta, but I don't want to live with her for the rest of my life. I mean, I wouldn't mind living with her as a Golden Girl after my marriage and my three kids, but I don't just want to live with her straight through.
"No, we're still young. Stop being so overly dramatic, Skye. It's fine. This is why you should not do more than two drinks a night because you always get into your brain and start overthinking things."
"I'm not trying to overthink anything. I'm just..." I wrinkle my nose. "Okay, maybe I'm overthinking it. Maybe it's because I just feel like Kingston thinks I am a big idiot."
"No comment," she says.
"Thank you. That makes me feel great."
"I mean, you have to admit, it's kind of funny. You were going on and on and on about how this guy was into you and how you didn't even know if you wanted him and then it turns out that he's gay and he doesn't want you after all."
"I know. What does that say about me? Does it say that I'm completely and utterly ridiculous and that I don't have a clue?"
"How were you supposed to know he was gay?"
“Yeah, I’m not a psychic, but him kissing his boyfriend might've been a clue."
"Yeah, but it's not like he was with his boyfriend when you first met."
"True. But also the fact that he was dressed very, very nicely with eyebrows better manicured than my own. And the fact that he kept asking me who my stylist was. I mean, come on."
She grins. "True. True. Anyway, stop thinking about it. You have Camden."
"Uhm you mean I've got a date set with him."
"And we can go out tomorrow night if you want."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Don't sound so excited."
"I am excited, but I don't have money, Elisabetta. I need to find a job. Me losing that job tonight really put a wrench in my plans."
"I know. So what are you going to do?"
"So, actually, I had an idea."
"Oh?" she asks.
"I was thinking I could be a photographer."
"What?" She blinks at me. "You don't even have a camera and you don't really have money to buy a camera either."
"No. Hear me out. So when we were at the bar, you know what I noticed?"
"No." She shakes her head. "What?"
"I was noticing that everyone was trying to take selfies."
"Okay." She nods. ”That is true. I mean, we took a couple of selfies ourselves."
"And half the time the selfies end up looking like shit, right?"
"If you don't know your angles and you don't have good light, then they don’t always look great.”
"Elisabetta."
"Sorry." She holds her hands up. "But that's normally the reason why."
"Anyway. Wouldn't most people kill to have someone take their photo when they're out at the bar and having fun and make them look really good?"
"I don't know that they would kill for that. No," she says, shaking her head. "But," she says quickly. "I think they would love it."
"Exactly. So I was thinking, what if I am an unofficial photographer at bars like that?"
"What? You're going to go and ask managers if they'll hire you?"
"No," I say, shaking my head grinning. "That's why it's unofficially."
"I don't get you."
"I mean, I'm just going to be at the bar hanging out, hopefully with you."
"Okay, so you do want to go out tomorrow night?"
"Yeah, but I'll also be working."
"What? You got a job?"
"No. As the unofficial photographer."
"Girl, you're confusing me. I don't understand what you're saying. How are you going to be an unofficial photographer with no camera and the people don't even know that you're working there as a photographer?"
"Because I don't need a camera. Their phones will be my camera. Their phone will be my lens through which I capture the world."
Elisabetta just blinks at me. "Sorry. You're going to have to break this down a little bit better."
"Look, when I see people taking selfies, I'm going to go up to them and I'm going to be like, 'Hi, I'm Skye, unofficial photographer of the evening.'" I grin at her. "And then I'll show them my pearly white teeth."
"They're not that pearly."
"You know what I mean."
"Sorry," she laughs. "So you're going to see people taking selfies…" She laughs slightly. "And you're going to go up to them and ask them if they want you to take the photo?" She's almost in tears by now, she's laughing so hard.
"What is so funny?"
“Honestly, I don't get it," she says. "That's what we do normally to help people out anyway."
"I know, but I do that just as a regular good person. I'll start doing it tomorrow night as an officially unofficial photographer. It’s not like you have to have a degree in photography to be a good photographer. Plus, I can't take an actual camera with me like a DSLR or anything because the clubs would probably get upset and then probably want me as their official photographer."
"So then why don't you become an official photographer?"
"Because they’d probably want a cut of the money."
"So wait, you're going to charge people to take these photos?"
"Yeah, that's the whole point. That's how I'm going to make extra money. I figure maybe $20 a photo."
“I know you’re drunk, but this is not a good idea, Skye!” She laughs so loud that she starts slamming her hand into the countertop. "Oh my gosh." She hiccups as she giggles. "No way. You're going to take a photo with someone's phone camera and charge them $20. Are you out of your mind, Skye?"
"Obviously, it's going to be more than one photo and I'm going to take some props with me so that they're cool, of course."
"Some props?" She looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "What props?"
"You'll see tomorrow night," I say, slightly miffed that she's not taking me seriously. "I think it's a good idea to make some money on the side."
"I mean, it's an idea all right," she says. "I don't know how good it is. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I just don't know that I would be happy if I was trying to take a selfie and someone came up to me and was like, 'Hey, you want me to help with that?' And I said, yeah. And then they said, 'Oh, and that's $20.'"
"But they won’t have the props that I'm going to have tomorrow."
"Okay," she says, making a face. "If you think this sounds like a sound business plan, Skye."
I stare at her for a couple of seconds. "Look, do I think it's going to net me millions? No. But what if it becomes a thing? What if people want to franchise the unofficial photographer gig?"
"Girl, who's going to franchise that? They can go into any bar or restaurant and be an unofficial photographer without having a franchise from you. You won't even know."
I laugh slightly. "Okay, you make a point there. Maybe it's not going to become franchises, but maybe if I patent it."
"Girl, really?"
"Okay," I say, laughing. "Maybe I won't patent it, but it's worth a try, right? Especially if we go to some really bougie places and I have some really rich people pay me."
"Can I make a suggestion?"
I nod slowly as she reaches for the Korean mask packs.
"Why don't you make it tip based?"
“Tip based? You think so?” I ask, frowning as I think about asking for tips. It wasn’t what I’d had in mind. "It's not like I'm getting an hourly wage. Are you saying that I should ask the clubs to give me an hourly wage?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying," she says, laughing. "What I'm saying is what if you do what you were thinking. You go up to these people and maybe you have a sign around you that says ‘unofficial photographer of the evening’, which sounds kind of cheesy, but I think we'll make it look a bit more legit."
"I like that," I say, nodding. "I can probably get something made."
"And then after you take the photos, have a jar, and on the jar just say ‘unofficial photographer for tips’ or something. That way they don't feel pressured into giving you $20, especially if you don't necessarily get a great photo."
"What do you mean if I don't necessarily get a great photo?"
"Girl, I know you are an unofficial photographer, and I know that you're using their phones and that it's all for fun, but I've had you take official photographs of me and they turn out looking like shit."
"No, they didn't. I take realistic photographs. If that's how you look, that's how you look."
"People don't want to look at themselves in a photo and see how they really look, girl. No one wants to see their extra twenty pounds or their double chin or their fat belly."
I stare at her and blink.
"I'm just saying you're going to have to learn the angles a bit better and capture the lighting a bit better and maybe figure out some filters."
"So you want me to make them look fake?"
"I want you to make them look good, at least if you want those big tips."
I nod slowly. "I guess so. Maybe you're right."
"Trust me, girl, I'm right. I cannot believe that I'm even giving you tips for this job because..."
"Because what?" I say, staring her.
"Nothing. I promised you before that I'm going to be supportive of your endeavors. And I am. But do you really need all these multiple jobs, girl? You have a good day job."
I stare at her. "The day job is fine and it pays well, that is true. But one: I don't know how long I'm going to be able to work there without either quitting or being fired. And two: it doesn't pay me enough to pay off all my debts and save a lot of money for my trip."
"Okay," she says. "I get it."
"And you know how important it is for me to take this around-the-world trip. I've dreamed about it all my life. I want to see different cultures and experience different things and…"
"And guess what?" she says. "You can make it a working vacation."
"Huh?" I say, staring at her.
"I mean, you could be an unofficial photographer anywhere in the world."
I look at her for a couple of seconds and think for a few seconds. My heart is racing as I process her words. "Really?"
"I'm just saying," she says. "In case you run out of money. Here." She hands me the face mask and we both start laughing.
"I have no clue what I'm doing."