Stay With Me

I spent my morning trying not to get worked up about meeting Gerard. I didn’t feel like myself as I went through every item in my wardrobe three times before I decided on an outfit. I normally didn’t give a shit about my appearance, but like I said, I wasn’t myself. I didn’t want to look like I made too much an effort, which would give off the wrong signal. I also didn’t want to look like I didn’t care about my appearance at all because of course I care, to a certain extent. Not about fashion or the latest trends, but people’s general perception of my attire. I could never leave the house in sweatpants and runners unless I was actually working out, or in dirty, stained clothes like I see so many do on weekends or when they have a bunch of children hanging off them. On the occasional Sunday morning I might see people rushing to the store in their pyjamas and I would cringe in embarrassment for them. I didn’t agree with my mother on a lot of topics but, there was one we agreed on. People judged you on how you present yourself to the world, and anybody who claims otherwise is either a liar or in denial. Maybe they don’t care about your fashion sense, or if your make up is caked on and extreme. It’s the fact that you put thought into your appearance that sends the right message. If you’re hung over or just generally feeling like crap, wear make up to try and cover it up; don’t show people your weakness. If you’re clothes are falling apart, get new clothes. There are more effective ways to get people to notice you then going outside looking like a slob.

Then, of course, I agonised over makeup. The same principal applied. I didn’t want to look like I was trying to impress him, but the bags under my eyes were hideously noticeable. Should I wear eye makeup, or just cover up the flaws? I could just apply concealer to the dark circles and leave the rest of my skin bare. I wore light make up to work, so I rarely wore it on the weekend unless I was going somewhere that dictated otherwise. Technically, meeting with Gerard didn’t necessarily require me to plaster the stuff on, but he’s also never seen me without it. He’d see the little freckles on my forehead and cheeks that were normally hidden under foundation. Did I want him to see that? Showing what I truly looked like was slightly daunting, but on the other hand I wondered if there was a valid reason for me to cover up a few blemishes that, in reality, he probably care about or notice. They weren’t unsightly or too obvious due to their light colour.

I eventually pull myself together and berate myself for acting like a sixteen year old going on her first date. This was nothing more than friends meeting up to help alleviate a mutual problem. I got dressed, covered up the dark circles and brushed my hair. I checked my reflection, decided that I didn’t look too shabby and thus ending my preparation. I wondered what Gerard had in mind for our…date. The word made me uncomfortable as it suggestion something more intimate, but there was no term that fit the occasion any better. The delay in his reply suggested he had something planned, and it definitely woke my curiosity. The park was a strange place to meet, but then again it was as good as any other place. He was probably sick of the café by now, just like I was. It was a convenient location, but it lost it’s appeal after a couple of weeks. I wondered if he expected me to go over to his place, the idea making me sweat in panic. It made my stomach flutter, which I put down to discomfort at the idea rather than the alternative reason, which was secret anticipation and desire to see where he lived. I tried to distract myself from the disturbing thoughts entering my head by watching more Vampire Diaries. It worked, so well that when I checked the time I realised I had left myself five minutes to reach the park that was twenty minutes away from my apartment. I let out a string of cusses as I rushed around the apartment, making sure everything was off and windows were closed before I raced out the door and ran as quickly as I could.

I was out of breath when I reached the gates of the park, which was filled with children running riot and exhausted parents trying to keep up with them. My watch informed me I was only ten minutes late, not including the time it would take me to actually find him. I walked through the black gates, taking a quick glance around to see if I could spot him without spending the next ten minutes searching through the park. Thankfully he had the sense to wait by a tree to the left of the gate which made it hard to miss him. He was too busy looking at his phone to see me coming, his face a picture of concern. I probably should have text him to let him know I was going to be late, but panic mode took away my common sense. I took the opportunity to catch my breath before he saw me wheezing like I’d just run a marathon. The stitch in my side made me wince from its stinging pain. Of course, my luck dictated that Gerard would find me in that moment. The concerned expression that marred his face only seconds ago was gone, to be replaced by what can only be described as pure, utter glee at my hunched state. I swore I could hear him laugh, but the sound was so high pitched and girlish that I’m certain there’s no way a man with a broken voice could laugh in such a manner. I glared at him with all the hate and embarrassment I could muster, but it didn’t discourage him from picking up the black messenger bag that was at his feet and walking over to me.

“Should I even ask?”

I suppose I should give him credit for at least trying to keep a straight face once he approached me.

“Nope. What’s in the bag?” I ask, straightening up and meeting his gaze.

Gerard rolled his eyes at me.

“What makes you think there’s anything special in it?”

“Because I’ve never seen you with a bag before. What did you bring?”

“Well, before you say or do anything, I want you to let me explain first. Deal?”

He was nervous, I could tell by the way his eyelids fluttered and how he wasn’t looking me in the eye anymore, not directly. It was focused a little to the left. If I’d been mildly interested in the contents of the bag before, I was definitely curious now.

“Alright.”

“Do you remember the last time we went for coffee, and you were talking about how you would take pictures with your father’s camera?”

He spoke cautiously, and with good reason. He anticipated my reaction, which was for the easy smile on my face to disappear instantly. My face was neutral, but even the most socially clueless person could tell the change in my demeanour wasn’t a good one. I didn’t like talking about my father and the guilt on Gerard’s face told me he was aware of this. He paused, waiting for me to say something. I didn’t, I wouldn’t. This was supposed to a pleasant get together, not one of our heart to heart coffee sessions. If he was going to drag the conversation down that direction, I certainly wasn’t going to help him.

“You said that you used to like taking pictures. Well, I was picking up supplies yesterday for my next project when I happened to walk past a store that caught my eye. It had a sale sign outside, and I was bored so I went inside. They were one of those stores that sold fucking everything you could think of. Anyway, I was just browsing around when I found something that made me think of you, so I bought it. I’d like you to have it.”

His pale hands unzipped the black bag, one of them slowly reaching in and quickly retrieving something black and shiny. I knew what it was straight away. I also knew it wasn’t cheap. I gawp at the polished camera in his hand, my mind taking it in. It was a chunky piece of equipment, one that was designed for a professional photographer who knew what they were doing. So many different emotions were going through my mind that I wanted to scream. Flattery was the first and foremost. Even if it had been on sale, it still would have cost a lot of money, which I didn’t have. I couldn’t pay him for it. I was angry that he was so thoughtful. Thoughtfulness is normally a great attribute to have, but this was too much. I felt guilt, because while I appreciated the gesture, I didn’t appreciate the gift itself. I had no desire to take photographs anymore. It was something that I had shared with my father and now that he was gone it had no place in my life anymore. I was young and saw beauty in everything back then. I wasn’t that child anymore. The world didn’t have colour; it was sterile grey and it wasn’t worth wasting one roll of film on, never mind enough that would justify owning the kind of camera Gerard held in his hand. Even if I wasn’t uncomfortable with taking gifts from people, I still couldn’t take this. There was no way I could accept it.

“Gerard, I can’t accept that. It’s too generous.”

“No, it’s selfish. You said you wanted to find something to be passionate about. I want to help you find it. Call it an ego thing if you want. Every artist wants an apprentice.”

“Gerard….I. Can’t. Accept. This. Thank you, sincerely, but I just can’t. I appreciate the gesture, I really do but I can’t take it.”

Gerard was undeterred by the frustration in my voice. He pushed the camera into my hands, his expression akin to a stubborn five year old determined to get what they wanted.

“Yes, you can. It was on sale so I can’t return it, and I already have two cameras so I don’t have any use for it. I bought it for you, so just take it, be grateful and take some goddamn pictures, okay?”

The anger in his voice startled me. He was normally so laid back and pleasant; the tone seemed alien to him. I took a step back without being conscious of my movements.

“Shit, Grace, I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean to sound so angry. I just really want you to have it. I figured you wouldn’t take it willingly, but I really want you to have it. I was thinking it could be a project we could do together. I took photography during college, so maybe I could teach you a thing or two, see how good a teacher I am. You could build a portfolio.”

I wanted to say no. Every impulse was telling me that it wasn’t a good idea but, it was hard. His eyes were silently pleading for me to just say yes. He was sincere in his intentions, that much I was certain of, and I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes if I refused. He really was an artist through and through, and now he wanted me to be his next project. It was a big ask, one that would involve time and energy. I wanted something to do, something creative. The desire to take control of something, to make something that was mine, was appealing. The camera suddenly represented a form of freedom and control that I secretly longed for. The camera couldn’t manipulate my emotions; it couldn’t hurt or disappoint. It did whatever I wanted it to do, without question. There was no equality or battle of wills to contend with. The camera was everything I had ever longed for.

“I can’t afford it Gerard” My voice was soft.

“It’s already paid for. It’s digital so the only cost is printing the pictures.”

“This must have cost a fortune Gerard, I can’t just let you spend that money on me.”

“It’s already spent Grace. Anyway, I already told you it was on sale. I got it half price, so don’t worry about it. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t afford, okay?”

He could see I’d caved in, and it was worth it to see just how pleased he was at his victory.

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’m giving you an hour to walk around and take some photos. I want to see what you’ve got.”

“Now?” I asked, incredulously. This was not how I expected today to go.

“Yes, now. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I stared at him in shock, until he waved me away with a playful push.

“I’m timing you. Go!”

So I went. With no idea what I should do. I mean, of course I knew how to point the camera and take a picture. I switched the camera on and gave myself a few minutes to search through the different modes and settings. Feeling confident enough to use it, I decided to start off in the park. It was a huge city part, and I figured I could easily spend at least half of the given time here if not more. There was a duck pond, lots of dogs running around and of course people. I walked around aimlessly for at least fifteen minutes trying to find something photogenic enough to capture when I finally saw it. It was nothing special at a glance; just a little girl on a swing in the playground. It wasn’t what I saw though. I saw her innocence. She didn’t have any fear in her eyes; there was no sadness in them that suggested her life was anything but filled with love and affection. She was sheltered, and fearless. I wondered how long it would take for that to change. Would it be in a couple of years, when she starts to see her parents aren’t perfect and infallible? Would it be in ten, when she realises that people are cruel and hurtful? Would it be in twenty, when she realises that the world was just a horrible place, filled with misery and disease? It didn’t matter when it would happen. The only certainty was that it would go. But for now, she still retains the childish love for life and I wanted to capture it. I didn’t think about whether it was inappropriate to take her image. It didn’t really matter. I was in the zone, and once the image was taken I found I couldn’t leave the little bubble I was in. My perspective changed. The grey seemed to fade, and I was seeing colour again. The joy I felt all those years came rushing back and I was a high on it. I took another ten photos in the hour and a half that followed. Time didn’t matter. I lost a track of it when it became of no consequence to the task at hand. I couldn’t finish until I had to stop. My feet were exhausted by the nonstop walking, and crouching, and stopping and stalling. My eyes were tired from the lack of sleep, and my body just ached from all the exertion.

I found Gerard near the spot where I’d left him. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against the tree with his knees bent. His hand was moving furiously across the sketchpad on his lap, his tongue poking out from behind his lips in concentration. I didn’t think twice about disrupting him.

“I’m done” I declared, plopping on the ground beside him dramatically.

“Just give me a few minutes.”

“Gerard, I’m tired, and it’s going to rain really soon. Can we just go?”

He took his eyes off his sketchpad to look at me and roll his eyes.

“The rain will hold off for another little while. If you’re tired, lie down. I’ll be done soon.”

I huffed but I didn’t argue any more. I grabbed the coat he had taken off and laid on flat on the grass. He smirked when I curled up on it, closing my eyes and letting out a sigh. The sound of Gerard humming under his breath was soothing, lulling me to sleep when my body decided it deserved some respite.

Notes

Hey Guys,

Big things are on the way. Next chapter things will start taking an interesting turn.

As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and if you can spare a few seconds feedback is great.

Lyra