Page 77 of Dark Room Junkie

I looked at Martin, who was sitting in his chair with one leg crossed over the other. Just his presence was soothing to my soul.

Maybe I need to take off the mask if I want to talk.

“Keep it on,” Martin said as I made a move to remove it.

“It’s all become too much,” I whispered.

“I know that feeling.” He nodded toward the table of books behind him. “Eventually, the pressure of exams just becomes too much, and you can’t take it anymore.”

“What are you studying?”

“I’m training to be a doctor,” he said proudly.

When I saw the sparkle in his eyes, I was enchanted. There was a passion in him that I’d only seen in a few people before. It was also evident in Noé when he talked about music, and it was partly why I was so determined to have him be part of my book project. And it was this sparkle that also piqued my interest in Martin. Not in the same way I was drawn to Noé, but Martin had something about him that made him seem like a saint in my eyes right now.

“I’d like to photograph you,” I said without much thought.

Martin laughed. “An artist?”

“No. I don’t see myself as an artist. I’m a photographer.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know,” I conceded. I definitely wasn’t strong enough for such a discussion right now. But I was serious. “I’m working on a book. A kind of photo reportage about people in Zurich. I’d like to have you be a part of it.”

“I’m a nobody.”

Those were the exact words Noé had used, and I frowned sadly at the brief pang in my chest.

“No. You’re not a nobody. You have something about you.”

The longer Martin scrutinized me, the firmer my determination became to do whatever it took to get these photos. Especially because he wasn’t from Zurich, he fit perfectly into this book. At first glance, he seemed ordinary, but what set him apart was that he didn’t wear a mask. He exhibited genuineness, without any defenses, and that was a quality worth capturing.

“You’re serious about this.”

“Absolutely.” Then I shook my head at the realization. “How pathetic, but it’s the only thing I have left.”

Martin laughed. “So dramatic. You remind me of my roommate. He’s an artist and isn’t big on optimism either.”

“Thinking about what’s in store for me here soon, it’s very hard for me to remain optimistic.”

“I understand. Are you really a photographer? Or is that just a ploy?”

“It’s not a ploy. I photograph almost everything. Advertising, architecture, reports. For the book project, you would need to sign a release agreement so I can use the photos.”

“Hmm ...”

“Do you have something to write with?”

Martin pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over to me. “Can you show me your website?”

I typed in the link to my photography site and handed the phone back to him.

As he scrolled through the pictures, I tiredly closed my eyes and tried not to think about anything. I managed to block out my messed-up life for a while, but not Noé. He had left a mark on me and wouldn’t disappear anytime soon. I had fallen in love with him, despite Chris warning me against it.

I’m such an idiot.

“They’re good,” Martin said.

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