Chapter 2

Ethan's face tightened.

"Without me, you'll never get a single decent photo," he said flatly.

I ignored him.

At exactly 4:00 pm that afternoon, I arrived at the library's west entrance.

I used to help Ethan whenever he had a shoot. While he photographed Chloe, I carried his lenses, held the reflector, brought him water, and kept an eye on the bags.

If the hem of Chloe's dress fell out of place, I would instinctively step over and fix it for her. After the shoot, Ethan would have me import the photos.

But whenever he photographed me, he couldn't even be bothered to adjust his camera settings.

That day was the first time I got to stand in front of the camera instead of helping from outside the frame.

The photographer didn't start shooting right away. He had me stand beside the steps.

"Relax your shoulders and forget the camera is there. Watch the wind move through the trees. Look at anything you want."

I raised my head stiffly.

He looked at me for a moment. "Nina, the camera isn't Ethan. It won't judge you."

My nose stung as tears burned behind my eyes. I lifted my head and blinked rapidly.

He didn't rush me. He simply waited in silence until I was ready.

The first set took half an hour. He didn't say much, but his directions were always clear.

"Don't clutch your skirt. Look at the tree on your left. Now turn back toward me. Yes, hold that look."

For the first time, I realized that having my picture taken didn't have to be stressful.

The next morning, Ethan tagged me in the photography club's group chat. "Help me hold the reflector this afternoon. Chloe has a shoot for her admissions ambassador entry."

In the past, I would've agreed immediately.

This time, I replied, "I have my own shoot this afternoon."

The group chat went silent for several seconds.

Almost immediately, Ethan sent me a private message.

"You're actually putting that much faith in a photographer who charges 20 dollars? Chloe's shoot is a priority project for the photography club. Don't let this interfere with what actually matters."

I stared at the words "what actually matters" and nearly laughed.

So to Ethan, Chloe's shoot counted as important. My graduation photos, my application, and the courage I had found to give this a try didn't.

That afternoon, I went to the science building to film my video.

As I passed the athletic field, I saw Ethan photographing Chloe. She stood in the middle of the lawn, and the light was perfect. Ethan crouched on the ground, adjusting his angle again and again.

"Take your time. Wait for the breeze, then turn your head. If you can't smile, look at me first. Good. One more time."

Chloe smiled. "I'm not making this too difficult for you, am I?"

"Not at all. You're a natural in front of the camera," Ethan said gently.

I stood at the edge of the track as my fingers slowly curled inward.

So he did know how to put someone at ease in front of the camera. He had simply never done it for me.

The photographer noticed my expression but didn't ask about it. He merely raised the camera toward me. "We're shooting video today. Walk, look into the camera, and tell me why you like this college."

I lowered my gaze. "I don't know what to say."

"Then pretend you're talking to me."

I thought about it for a long time before finally speaking to the camera. "Everyone here always seems to be moving forward. It makes me believe that even ordinary people can grow stronger as long as they keep going."

The photographer let me finish without interrupting. When we were done, he turned the camera toward me and played back the footage.

I wasn't as sweet or polished on camera as Chloe, but I was real.

That evening, the applicants began sharing their photos and footage in the group chat. The photographer chose a shot of me at the library's side entrance.

As soon as it went up, someone replied, "Is that Nina Wilde? This photo looks like it tells a whole story."

Warmth slowly spread through my chest as I held my phone.

Then Ethan sent a message. "It's one carefully staged photo. Good lighting and composition can make anyone look good. Admissions ambassadors are judged on more than that. You're not applying to be a model."

Chloe quickly agreed. "Exactly. Video is a lot less forgiving than photos. Once you start moving, every unflattering angle and expression shows."

My heart sank a little as I read their messages, but I didn't scramble to explain myself or prove anything the way I once would have.

I replied with just one sentence. "I'll practice on my own."

That night, the photographer sent me a new plan. "Tomorrow, we'll shoot by the graduation photo backdrop. Don't be nervous. Just be yourself."