Page 49 of Racking Up Penalties
Liam leans forward, his photographer’s eye already assessing angles and shadows. “I’ll handle the camera work. Just show me what you’re looking for.”
“Perfect,” I say, relief washing over me. My designs couldn’t be in better hands. “Ethan, I was thinking you could open the series. There’s this leather jacket piece that would look killer on you.” I point to the sketch, its lines bold and fierce, much like Ethan himself.
His eyes gleam with a mix of pride and mischief. “Done.”
“Great! And, um…” I hesitate, glancing at Tristan. “There’s a shot I envision, something raw and powerful. It needs someone who can really capture the intensity. Tristan, would you do it?”
“Intensity, huh?” he grins, a spark of challenge lighting up his gaze. “I can do intense.”
“Fantastic,” I sigh, my heart racing with anticipation.
“Anything else we should know?” Ethan asks, always the one to think ahead.
“Just be yourselves,” I answer, smiling. “That’s the magic I want to capture.”
* * *
The hum of the studio pulses around me like a second heartbeat, electric with anticipation. Racks of clothes line the walls, my sketches now transformed into tangible art. I spent all my free time making these.
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” I call out, clapping my hands for attention. My nerves buzz under my skin, but there’s no room for doubt.
I flit from garment to garment, ensuring each piece hangs perfectly, the textures and patterns begging to be brought to life.
“Looks incredible, Tessa,” Ethan murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he fits into the leather jacket, its dark sheen hugging his frame like it was made just for him.
“Thanks, Ethan,” I reply, my hands smoothing down the lapels, adjusting the fit. “You wear it like a second skin.”
“Only because it’s your genius at work,” he responds, winking. His support, so effortless, weaves strength into my resolve.
Liam, camera in hand, surveys the scene through the lens, his photographer’s eye dissecting the space, calculating angles and light. He moves with a grace that belies his athletic build, every motion purposeful, every command delivered with an easy confidence.
“Alright, let’s start with some test shots,” Liam says, directing Ethan with a nod toward the backdrop. “Chin up, eyes on the horizon.”
Ethan smirks and obliges, morphing under Liam’s guidance, his pose relaxed yet poised, exuding the nonchalant charm of the eternal bad boy. My breath catches. They’re not just wearing my designs—they’re embodying them, bringing forth the essence I poured into every stitch.
“Good, hold that,” Liam instructs, his voice threading through the air, capturing Ethan’s attention. The shutter clicks in a rhythmic dance.
“These clothes are beautiful, Tessa,” Liam praises without taking his eyes off the camera, and a blush creeps onto my cheeks. His acknowledgment means more than he can know.
“Let’s switch it up!” I announce, eager to keep the momentum. “We have a lot to cover today.”
They move in sync, seamlessly transitioning between outfits and backdrops, each change a new character to portray, a different facet of my vision revealed. Liam’s commands are precise. His satisfaction is evident when the image in his viewfinder aligns with his expectations.
“Try looking over your shoulder, a bit of mystery,” he suggests to Tristan, and the atmosphere crackles with creative energy. They trust him implicitly, their movements fluid under his direction.
“Are the shots coming out okay?” I ask tentatively, peering over Liam’s shoulder at the images flickering across the small screen.
“More than okay. They’re… you,” he says, finally locking eyes with mine.
“Thank you, Liam,” I whisper, my heart swelling with love. His expertise with the camera is capturing the soul of my work, the very spirit I’ve poured into every line and curve.
“Anything for you, Tessa.” His words are simple, but they resonate deep within me.
As the day progresses, we fall into a rhythm, a dance of creation and capture.
We spend hours lost in the creative process, our collective energy fueling a photo shoot that feels less like work and more like play.
As the final shot is snapped, the laughter fades into a comfortable silence. We’re spent, the adrenaline of creativity slowly ebbing away, leaving behind a sense of completion. I step over cables and around lights, making my way to the window where the last rays of dusk paint the sky in hues of gold and pink. It’s a fitting end to a day marked by achievement.
