LOGINShare
Chapter 24: The Client
publish date:
2026-10-10 12:09:59Milo's first real client that was not Lucien, not Beaumont Corp, not Lena's friend, called him on Wednesday.
Her name was Sarah. She had a baby. She wanted photos of baby. She found Milo on I*******m because someone who came to his gallery show tagged him and said "this boy sees love in photos." Milo stared at his phone for ten minutes after she hung up. Then he screamed. "LUCIEN! LUCIEN! A LADY WANTS ME TO TAKE PHOTOS OF HER BABY! A REAL CLIENT! NOT YOUR FRIEND! REAL!" Lucien came running from his office, thinking Milo was hurt, tie half on, barefoot. "What? What happened? Are you okay?" "She wants baby photos! She will PAY me! $400! For baby!" Milo was jumping on couch, freckles bright, camera already in hand even though baby shoot was Saturday. Lucien caught him before he fell off couch. "That's amazing! My photographer getting clients!" "But what if I ruin baby?" Milo whispered, sudden fear. "What if baby cries because I'm ugly? What if mom hates photos? What if I drop baby? I don't know how to hold baby!" Lucien held his face. "You will not drop baby. You will take beautiful photos of baby because you see love. Remember? Gallery lady said you see love in photos. Babies are love." Milo nodded, but his stomach was tight. Saturday came too fast. Milo woke up at 5 AM and threw up. Real throw up, not nervous pretend. He threw up in bathroom while Lucien held his hair back and said "breathe, my love, breathe, baby will love you." "I can't," Milo sobbed, on bathroom floor, in pajamas, black nails chipped from picking. "I can't do real client. I'm fake photographer. Your girlfriend gave me gallery, you bought me camera, I'm fake!" Lucien knelt with him on cold tile, in his pajama pants, and took Milo's shaking hands. "Listen to me," Lucien said, serious, not CEO voice, but boyfriend voice that Milo trusted. "You laid in puddle in Shibuya for photo. You slept in cold apartment and still took photos of pigeons. You took photo of my messy hair and made a billionaire look human. That is not fake. That is real photographer. Baby is lucky to have you." Milo wiped mouth. "What if I throw up on baby?" "Then we will buy baby new clothes," Lucien said. Milo laughed, snotty laugh. Lucien made him toast, burned, but Milo ate one bite. He dressed Milo — blue good luck shirt, clean black jeans, camera bag packed three times checked. He drove him to Sarah's apartment in Brooklyn. "You want me to come in?" Lucien asked outside building, holding Milo's hand tight. Milo wanted to say yes. But this was his. First real client that was his, not Lucien's. "No," Milo whispered. "You wait here. If I fail, I will come down and you will take me home and make salty soup." "I will wait here whole time," Lucien promised. "Even if it takes three hours. I will wait in car and not buy building." Milo went up. Third floor. Apartment small but warm, smelled like baby powder and milk. Sarah opened door, baby on hip, baby fat and drooling, mother tired but smiling. "You must be Milo!" she said. "Come in, thank you for coming!" Milo's hands shook setting up. But then he saw baby — big eyes, bald head, wearing tiny socks that didn't match. And his photographer brain turned on. "Hi," Milo whispered to baby, crouching down, camera up. "Hi, little love. You have tiny socks that don't match. That's very fashion." Baby stared at him, then giggled. Drool bubble. Click. Sarah laughed. "She likes you!" Milo spent two hours on floor. Laying on floor, sitting on floor, making silly faces, making fart noises that made baby laugh so hard she hiccuped, taking photos of baby yawning, baby crying, baby sleeping on mom's chest, baby holding Milo's black-nailed finger with whole tiny hand. He forgot he was nervous. He forgot he was fake. He was just Milo who sees love. He showed Sarah photos on camera screen. Sarah cried. "These... these are her," she whispered. "You got her. Her little grumpy face when she wakes up, you got it. How?" Milo shrugged, freckles pink. "I like babies who have mismatched socks. They are honest." Sarah paid him $400 cash plus extra $50 "because you made her laugh when she has colic and no one can make her laugh." Milo walked downstairs floating. Lucien was exactly where he promised, in car, waiting, no tie, looking at his phone but looking up instantly when Milo came out. Milo opened car door and shouted "I DID IT! BABY LIKED ME! SHE HELD MY FINGER! LOOK!" He showed Lucien camera, photos of baby with drool and mismatched socks. Lucien looked at photos, then at Milo, who was glowing so bright that whole street was brighter. "You did it," Lucien whispered, proud. "I did it alone!" Milo said, climbing into car, still holding camera. "Without you buying! She paid me $450! Real money! I can buy groceries and also film!" Lucien started car. "Where do you want to go celebrate? Anywhere. My photographer gets anything." "Grocery store," Milo said seriously. "Real grocery store. I want to buy expensive cheese with my baby money." Lucien drove him to Whole Foods and Milo walked aisles like king, holding Lucien's hand, picking expensive cheese, $12 cheese, putting it in cart and saying "I bought this with baby photos, not billionaire money, baby money!" People stared at boy in blue shirt talking to cheese. Lucien stared at him like he was art. At home, Milo taped $450 cash to fridge — not to save, just to look at — and wrote: BABY HELD MY FINGER AND I DIDN'T DROP HER. $450 REAL MONEY. - M Lucien added: He came downstairs glowing. I have never seen anyone glow from holding a baby's finger before. - L That night Milo developed baby photos in their bathroom darkroom, red light, chemical smell, Lucien's yellow gloves too big again, both of them hanging baby drool photos next to Tokyo rain photos. "This is my job now?" Milo whispered, looking at string of baby photos dripping. "This is your job now," Lucien said. "Real photographer with real clients who pay real baby money." Milo fell asleep that night with $450 under pillow, because real money from real baby deserved pillow, not bank, at least for one night. And Lucien watched him sleep, glowing even in sleep, and thought "my photographer, my love, my boy who thought he was fake but makes babies laugh when they have colic." He texted Lena at midnight: Milo got his first real client. He threw up before but he did it. Give him more clients but don't tell him they are from you. Make him think they are real. Lena texted back: They ARE real, idiot. He is good. Stop trying to buy his career and let him glow. Lucien smiled and put phone down. His photographer was glowing. That was enough.
Latest chapter
He Says I'm His FINAL BONUS CHAPTER 35: The Last Fridge
Ten years later.Milo is 34 now, not 24, not 29, 34, freckles 47 on nose still, but now with more wrinkles when he smiles, because 10 years of smiling more than 24 years of cold makes wrinkles, good wrinkles, warm wrinkles, freckle wrinkles.Black nails still chipped, lip piercing still shining, but now with tiny scratch from Mara's real camera that is now big real camera, because Mara is 7 now, not 2, not 2 and 8 months, 7, real photographer, real camera, real photos, real gallery.Blue good luck shirt still same shirt, 10 years same shirt, now with 15 drool patches, because 10 years of babies, 10 years of Mara, 10 years of Sarah baby sister now 6 with mismatched socks, 10 years of drool, 15 patches, not 9, 15, each patch memory, each patch baby, each patch love, shirt faded, blue still good luck, but now more patches than blue, but still blue, still good luck, forever shirt.Lucien is 38 now, CEO still but half retired, half Provence, half New York, half Taraba, three tables still o
He Says I'm His BONUS CHAPTER 33: The Third Fridge
Five years and two months later, August, not June, lavender not real purple but cut, harvested, but smell still in house, in clothes, in blue shirt with seven drool patches that now had eight drool patches because Mara drooled again yesterday on purpose because she said "eight is better than seven, like your eight white ruins."Milo was 29 and three months, still 47 freckles on nose, still 12 on cheek, still 3 on forehead when nervous, but now also tiny line when he smiles, from smiling so much, because five years of smiling more than 24 years of cold.Lucien was 33 and three months, CEO still but now half Provence office, half New York, half Taraba office, because he opened Taraba office for Milo's mom, with photos on walls, because Milo said "my mom needs office with photos too, not just rice and beans."They had third fridge now.First fridge New York penthouse with 150 photos, because Milo kept adding after 300 total, now 350 total across two fridges, but now third fridge.Second
He Says I'm His Final Epilogue: Five Years Later
Five years later, lavender still real purple every June, but now Milo knows June will be real purple, no surprise, like he knows Lucien will get lavender dirt on white shirt every June, no surprise, like he knows Mrs. Alvarez will bring rice and beans Tupperware on plane every June, no surprise, tradition.Milo is 29 now, freckles 47 on nose still, but now with tiny wrinkle when he smiles, because 29 not 24, but freckles still stars, black nails still chipped, lip piercing still shining, blue good luck shirt still same shirt, now with seven drool patches, because five years of babies drooling, seven patches, not three, seven, each patch memory, each patch baby.Lucien is 33 now, CEO still but half Tokyo calls, half Provence calls, because Beaumont Corp now has Provence office in stone house barn that was darkroom that was gallery, now office too, with photos on walls and rice and beans Tupperware on desk, because Milo put rice and beans on CEO desk.They have child now.Not baby clien
He Says I'm His Bonus Chapter 32: The Magazine
The email came on Monday morning while Milo was in barn darkroom developing second gallery leftovers, red light, yellow gloves too big, Lucien helping and ruining again, white ruin number four now, because they ruined again in Provence barn.Lucien's phone buzzed. He never checked phone in darkroom because Henri said "if you check phone in barn, I will throw it in lavender," but this email was to Milo's email, not Lucien's, forwarded from Lena, subject: VOGUE — PHOTOGRAPHER MILO CHEN.Milo read it with yellow gloves on, hands shaking, chemical smell, red light making email glow red._Dear Milo Chen, We saw your Provence gallery photos on Instagram, from village lady who posted lavender and blue shirt boy. We love your eye. We want you to shoot for Vogue, Paris, fashion week, 10 days, $20,000, plus cover possibility. You would shoot real models, real clothes, real Paris. Please reply._Milo stared at email. Vogue. Paris. Fashion week. $20,000. Cover possibility. Real models, not babies
He Says I'm His Bonus Chapter 31: The Second Gallery
Milo's second gallery was not in New York.New York gallery was first gallery, with cute boy who talked to Milo on bench, with Lena who gave him wall, with 7 photos sold, with Mrs. A rice and beans on table.Second gallery was in Provence, in barn that was darkroom, that Henri said "barn needs gallery, not just darkroom, because you have too many photos for one fridge."Milo was nervous again, like first gallery, like baby client, like meeting Henri, like wedding, but different nervous now, because he had ring and blue shirt with drool patch and 50 photos sold, but still nervous, because photographer nervous never goes away, it just becomes warm nervous.Lucien was nervous too, but CEO nervous, because second gallery was his idea, he paid for lights, for walls, for invitations, but Milo said "no billionaire money for gallery, baby money and gallery money," so Lucien paid but said it was baby money loan, and Milo said "okay, baby money loan, I will pay back with baby photos."Gallery d
He Says I'm His Epilogue: One Year Later
One year later, June again, lavender real purple again, but now Milo knew it would be real purple, not grey-green pretending purple, real purple that smelled like wedding.Milo and Lucien lived two places now — penthouse in New York with fridge that had 100 photos taped, from Tokyo rain to Provence wedding to baby drool to white ruins, fridge that was family fridge, and stone house in Provence with fridge that also had photos, because Milo put photos on every fridge he owned now.Milo was 25 now, freckles still 47 on nose, 12 on cheek, 3 on forehead when nervous, black nails always chipped, lip piercing still shining, blue good luck shirt now faded but still blue, still good luck, now with small patch where baby grabbed with drool at wedding, Milo kept patch, didn't fix, because drool patch was memory.Lucien was 29 now, still CEO but less Tokyo calls, because he hired Lena to do Tokyo calls, and Lena said "finally, you let me do Tokyo, I will make salty soup better than you," and Luc
You May Also Like
You Love Me
Agnesomalia36.7K viewsIt's Just I Love You (English)
MaidenRose730.2K viewsMy Bestfriend is my mate
NeeNia32.7K viewsThe Love of a Werewolf
Willow28.6K viewsBound By His Protection
CHY SOMY411 viewsAgainst The Ice
Tshwanelo 202 viewsOffside hearts
Leemah 301 viewsTHE CAPTAIN AND THE KILLER
Deenah writes994 views
