05 - Hazz

“Ricardo crashed his car this morning” said Rute, performing a dejected expression. “He sent a message from the hospital, saying that he would only return later with a certificate. He said you already knew you had to be here to replace him. So we all thought you would be on your way, of course, ten minutes after the delay, I made sure to call your phone desperately myself. Like all the others who tried, I was ignored.”

“I'm sorry, Rute” I spoke in a sincere tone, but I quickly processed the rest of the information. “About Ricardo, it's a lie, it's all a lie. He said the night before that he wanted to go out with his girlfriend to celebrate another year of dating. There's no accident.”

And no one in their right mind would doubt that Ricardo would invent that kind of excuse not to attend. He was the one who lacked work the most, even so, the fact that he was the son of the owner of the station made him have carte blanche to never be present when necessary. I didn't even know what the quality of the photos taken by Ricardo was like. Even so, I wasn't dumb enough to keep saying that he deserved to be on the street before me, that would just guarantee me less credit.

“Well, we're not sure of anything, he just said where he would be” said Rute, shrugging. She also pondered that Ricardo deserved that strange air around us much more than I did, but he was also smart enough not to keep talking, if he wanted to keep his job. “The important thing is that he at least gave us satisfaction. Unlike you.”

I got stuck in the face of the accusation. It would no longer be worth begging for Ruth's common sense. She also depended on that. From a team that was always ready for work. And I, at least in the last few months, was just giving work instead of doing it. I swallowed it dry, looking for a better excuse. Something so that she wouldn't feel bad about my future resignation.

“I don't know how Ricardo's works” I explained more calmly. “ He doesn't like anyone to mess with his things and he never explained to me how it should be done. What I have always done in all these years of services provided, was simply holding a fan, or a microphone, or cleaning some dirt from the studio. I'm not a photographer, Ruth.”

“Yes, but it is your responsibility to be here at the agreed time in your employment contract” she said, pulling me by the arm to keep walking. Only at that moment did I know that the woman was shaking. Whether it was hatred or fear of the person who waited to take the photos, I didn't know. However, I did my best not to stumble on my ordinary running shoes and hurried to the studio door. “Just use Ricardo's material, even if he gave orders not to move. He knows that the situation requires it. He should come talk to me if he doesn't think it was necessary. Take the pictures and let us do the rest. They just need to be clear, right?”

“Right” I assured, opening a smile on the side.

I loved photographs. My biggest dream as a child was to have a polaroid camera, just so that the moments were recorded and already printed. However, not even after being an adult, I could suppress this dream.

The camera was too expensive. Even more expensive than the one they pushed in my hands the moment the studio doors closed behind my back. I approached with small stumbling, trying to dodge the wires of the recording cameras and plug that one in my hand. The focus was perfect and automatic, but Ricardo would have a heart attack knowing that I used his material.

On the one hand, I understood him. It should be hard to imagine someone else touching one of your most expensive items in a lifetime. I wasn't kidding when I told Ricardo that it was crazy that his best camera had the price of a used car. He laughed, saying that when I became a professional, I would understand that the price is worth nothing if the result is perfect.

I wasn't a professional yet, but somehow I was already understanding what he meant. The purple and silver colors of the studio came to life on camera, as well as every face I focused on before reaching the edge of the small stage where three red armchairs met.

The background role of the studio was designed to highlight the three people. Each of them wore a different color of clothing, and this made the background contribute to a flashy effect. They would probably use the photo on the station's website, and in a few magazines of the brand.

“Finally!” exclaimed Kevin, the studio's executive director, placing himself between two women who were already on stage. The famous woman who would be photographed was hidden behind another woman who stroked her hair and gave her instructions. Next to them was reporter Sandra, always with a beautiful smile and highlighting her prominent cheeks. We had gone out to talk a few times, we didn't advance any sign, but we deepened that friendship. I gave her a smile, but the gesture fell apart before Kevin's scream. “Can you start, boy? We have more things to do than wait for your moment.”

People laughed. Not to make fun of me, but because Kevin was cruel to his employees and always caught the foot of those who did not find his emotional abuses funny. I threw a look away from the screen on the camera, determined to make my worst face to my boss's boss, so the intruder who pampered the famous and prepared her for the photos moved away, and I could swear with my feet together that my heart stopped when I saw her.

The famous woman's eyes did not immediately turn to me, but through the lens, I could see each of its details. Even the brightness of her makeup came to life by the quality of the camera, and when I minimally lowered my fingers with the excuse of better positioning the lens that projected towards her, I noticed that even without any effect, even without a light that favored her, that woman was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in the world.