Page 30 of Dark Room Junkie

“Younger,” he admitted sheepishly. “Maybe as old as me?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three ... in two months.”

“Are you a Christmas baby?”

“No, exactly in two months.”

“I’ll be twenty-seven in January.”

“Shit! I thought you were younger. But ...”

I laughed, surprising myself. Everyone always thought I was younger, and it could be annoying sometimes because it meant I wasn’t always taken seriously at work. It was also the reason I wore glasses during the day instead of contact lenses. “What do you mean ’but’?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, shaking his head and interlacing his hands behind his head. “And? Are you going to stick with photography? Is that what you’ve always wanted to do?”

“Yeah, I think so. By now, I’ve built up a good client base and can make a decent living from it. It’s sometimes a bit much and stressful, but as long as I can still do my own projects on the side, it’s all good.”

“Your photo book?”

“Yeah, and the exhibition. That’s going to be great.”

“That’s nice. I’m happy for you.”

Despite the kind words, his gaze unsettled me. He looked at me as if he knew something I didn’t, and it fueled the doubts within me. I forced out a thank you and rubbed the back of my neck.

“You’re passionate about it,” he continued. “I can see it in your eyes. There’s a spark there whenever you talk about this project. That’s good.”

I stared at him, taken aback. He was right. The photo book and the exhibition were what drove me every day. If that were taken away from me, I probably wouldn’t have a reason to get up in the morning.

“Is it the same for you with music?” I asked.

“Mhmmm,” he replied. There was a fire in his eyes, so full of passion that I didn’t need any more words to understand him.

“What do you wish for in the future?” I asked.

“That I can eventually make a living from music. Although ... I kind of do already.” Noé shrugged as if that were his final answer because he couldn’t think of anything else to add.

“Maybe a house?” I suggested, prompting him. “Or a family? I don’t know. A place you can always come back to.”

“I don’t need much. Just my own room. One that’s clean and...” He stopped mid-sentence and gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. He then shook himself. “Well, forget it.”

“I can provide that.”

“With what?”

“I have a spare room,” I said, winking.

What are you doing, Alex?

“Where? In the basement?”

“No, the door next to the entrance. Didn’t you see it?”

“I thought that was a bathroom.”

“It’s in the room. There’s also a shower.”

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