Chapter 31 #2
I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them, trying to resist the sudden burning that tugs behind my eyes. ‘Me too.’
And I mean it. Who knew that meeting Elliot in the middle of a festival crowd, of all places, would lead to knowing such a thoughtful, ridiculous and generous trio? I can’t even imagine a Firecrest Festival without their presence.
I can’t help but take him in – the way he glows when he talks about his friends. In a small way, I think I’ve fallen a tiny bit in love with all of them.
‘Alright,’ he says, slapping his knees. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’
I stiffen. It would be impolite to set a timer, so I don’t. But I quickly check my watch anyway.
‘Ah, wait. I’ve got an idea,’ he says, pulling out his phone. Within seconds, Queen Ego starts playing through the tinny speaker. ‘This okay? I thought it made sense.’
‘Definitely makes sense,’ I agree, letting the melody run over me. It has a cooling effect on my nerves, smoothing the rough edges of my discomfort.
He starts fiddling with his camera, probably sorting out settings and technical things I don’t understand. Pointing the lens at the fence and then down again.
‘So what do I… you know, do?’ I prod.
His gaze doesn’t stray from his camera. ‘Absolutely nothing. You don’t worry about that.’
I decide to take his advice and lie back on the grass while he does whatever it is he’s doing.
‘Do me a favour, don’t move,’ Owen says gently. I freeze, my breath stilling in my lungs.
‘Okay, I take that back. Try and hold that position but take a deep breath in for me.’
I follow his instructions, breathing in slowly.
‘Okay, now breathe out.’
As I do so, I hear a succession of loud camera clicks.
‘I think this really works, you can stay in that position if you want to. Or, you know… move around. The most important thing is you’re comfortable.’
I am not comfortable in the slightest, but he’s being so sweet and accommodating that I choose to keep this to myself.
He hovers right above me, getting a birds-eye view, and his camera clicks a few more times. I have no idea where to look or what to do with my face, and I know it shows. I feel so hideously unprepared and ill-suited to do this that I just about resist throwing my hands over my face.
‘Why don’t you try closing your eyes? Listen to the music a bit,’ he suggests.
I close my eyes as instructed. I take another deep breath and pretend Owen isn’t here, ignoring the clicks above me.
The respite doesn’t last long. ‘Alright, open your eyes,’ he says, his voice quiet but firm.
When I do, the camera is much closer to my face than expected, and a laugh erupts from my belly.
‘Jesus, Owen,’ I protest, my hand flying instinctually up to cover my mouth.
‘Sorry, the camera loves your face,’ he says mildly. It clicks a few more times. ‘And your hair against the grass is kind of perfect. Just give me a few more shots and we’ll be done, alright? You good?’
‘I’m good. I’m unwell, but I’m good.’
‘You’re doing amazing.’ He walks around me and settles in the grass at my side, lowering himself until he’s lying flat. ‘This will sound weird, but I just want you to sit up and pretend I’m not here, yeah?’
That I can do. I try to fix my hair as I normally would and listen to the quiet undercurrent of one my favourite songs blasting from Owen’s phone. I see in the corner of my vision that he’s sitting up now, capturing my profile.
‘Okay, now I’m here,’ he says brightly. ‘We’re finishing up now. Doesn’t that make you so happy? Doesn’t that make you wanna give me a huge smile, Nora?’
I take the hint and find my lips tugging upward, before shooting him one my biggest grins. As I know I’m about to be free from this, it actually feels more genuine.
‘Amazing,’ he says, getting to his feet and reaching a hand down to pull me up. ‘You were so good, Nora. Really.’
I try to cover my doubtful look with a grateful smile. ‘Thanks for doing this. You made it really easy.’
It’s not a complete lie. While the experience was mildly sickness-inducing, he made it much less painful than I imagined.
‘Right, let’s take a look,’ he announces. The nervous ball in my stomach tugs at me. Every fibre of my being wants to decline and run, but this would not be polite.
As he clicks through them my nerves simmer and hum within me, but never enough to make me want to look away.
The first few are the most uncomfortable, with my face so anxious and guarded the sight almost makes me laugh.
But they steadily get easier to look at.
When he stops at one with my eyes closed and my hair haloed against the grass, it strikes me that it’s just a really good photo.
And I do happen to be in it, which is quite staggering.
‘Good, right?’ he says, sensing my approval, the excitement clear in his voice.
‘You’re really talented,’ I say honestly.
‘Just wait, I don’t think this is even the money shot yet.’
I hold my breath when we get to the close-up shots. The lighting is beautiful, bathing my skin in a warmth that he’s somehow manufactured from this grey day.
He stops at another where I’m in the middle of a laugh and also possibly mid-blink, giving the shot a slight blurry quality, and I feel like it shouldn’t work…
but it does. It’s the tiniest moment of raw joy, captured and cemented in his screen.
Despite myself, I find it difficult to take my eyes off it. And I don’t hate it. At all.
But given he’s a professional, I think this might be rude to say.
‘That’s beautiful,’ he says proudly, tapping the screen. ‘You see that?’
I look at it again, the distinct lack of familiar aversion knocking me backward. A tight knot loosens inside my chest. Opens up and slackens. Feels like it’s making space for something.
‘Thank you, Owen.’
It is completely insufficient, but he wraps an arm around my shoulders anyway.
When Owen and I eventually spot the others in Lenny’s Tavern, Josh appears to be in the midst of a very complicated, frenzied dance routine. Hennie films him on her phone, her grip on it shaking as she laughs. Elliot stands to the side looking mortified.
‘And that is how you dance to Cherry Wave correctly, you’re welcome,’ he announces to the bar as he hits the last pose.
‘Good work, Ham,’ Owen says.
‘Thank you,’ Josh replies, as if this is the obvious thing to say.
‘You’re back!’ Hennie rushes to my side, clinging onto my arm. ‘Did you have fun?’
Elliot approaches with his features carefully composed, but I can see the curiosity in them.
‘Fun is a slight stretch,’ I say, giving him a side-eyed glower. ‘But… he’s amazing. And you were right. Thank you.’
His composure breaks and the smile that appears shows he is thoroughly pleased with himself.
‘Can I see, can I see?’ Hennie prods me.
‘Sure, later.’
Owen agreed to send me the photos when he comes across wifi.
In return for the shoot, I agreed that he could use one of the photos for his website.
When he asked, my first instinct was to say, ‘no, no, please God no.’ But given his admission about wanting to work on more portraits, I found myself saying yes.
After a brief catch up, Owen pulls out his phone so we can browse the line-up and decide where to head next. I look at the smaller stages for obvious reasons.
Josh is insistent we need to try a certain drink at Martha Jane’s, a stage in The Warren that I don’t remember coming across.
I assume it can’t be too big as I hadn’t even clocked it.
Josh and Owen are curious to check out a band called, of all things, Fizzy Robinsons, who are due to start there in twenty minutes.
‘Fizzy Robinsons?’ Hennie asks.
‘Fizzy Robinsons,’ Owen confirms.
‘Fizzy Robinsons,’ Josh adds seriously.
I’m intrigued by the name, so I’m more than happy to tag along.
‘Fizzy Robinsons,’ I say with finality.