Page 21 of Whirlwind

“I have them safe in a professional album.” I’d never shown those precious photos to anyone before or the work I’d created with them. It was my most personal. “I’d love to show them to you,” fell from my lips.

“Look forward to it.” His grin got wider. “When my dad’s band, Cruel Fate, started out they did a lot of local festivals. My mom was pregnant with me and she’d be rocking out in the front by the stage.”

“I’ll bet she did.”

“So what happened with Isidora?” he asked. “Did she make it big?”

“Unfortunately, she died young. Way too young. Got killed with her brother in a random convenience store hold-up.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. When she was in high school she’d sneak out of the house and sing at bars and later on with different bands at biker parties. Then she officially joined a band. I think a lot about her going for it, living her dream.” Our gazes held, both heavy, grim. My heart thudded in my chest. I’d never told anyone that before. But I knew he got it, he understood.

I cleared my throat. “I made the collage for my mom for Mother’s Day a couple of years ago. She hung it up here where she spends most of her time. She loves it.”

Beck inspected the framed photograph. “Each one of you has a different kind of fierce joy going on. It’s totally captivating, no other word for it.”

A biting sensation like a cold burst of wind shot through me. Stinging and refreshing. Bracing and exhilarating. “Thank you.”

“Hang on—that framed black and white photo Wes has, the one of him on a bike overlaid with a photo of his dad at the same age riding the same bike—you did that, didn’t you?”

“I did. For his birthday.”

“Jesus, Violet. It’s fantastic. I’m really proud of you for going for it.”

“Thanks. That means a lot, Beck. It really does.”

It meant everything. Everything.

“My dad and his wife are into collecting art. They’ve got a lot of photographs, so I’ve seen a lot of different kind of work over the years.”

“So you have an eye as well as an ear, huh?”

“I know what I like. What rings true to me. I like this. This is exciting to me. It’s dynamic. Moving. There’s harmony here between all of you, but also, a dissonance. That makes it interesting. You’re capturing a moment and telling a hundred different stories at the same time you’re telling the same one.”

“Y-yes. That’s exactly it.” I swiped the hair from my suddenly hot face. “Ever since that workshop, I’ve been working, whenever I can, learning, experiencing. I just got myself a new camera and lens too.”

“Great. Do you like landscapes too? I ask because you sure as hell have incredible material out here in the Black Hills.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is. Got to say, I kind of miss it, having been raised here until I left for L.A. for high school.”

“I love shooting in the Badlands and at my grandfather’s ranch.”

“Cool.”

I clamped my hands together. “My favorite is shooting musicians. I go to a lot of live shows at Pete’s Tavern and Dead Ringers Saloon, and to a lot of the summer festivals in the area.”

“Really?”

“It’s the best adrenaline rush for me. There’s nothing like it.” My voice had gone quieter. “If there’s a band or a musician I like, I chase them down wherever they’re playing in the area and ask if I could shoot their gig free of charge.”

“I’ll bet you never get turned down.”

“Never.” I grinned. “They’re always grateful. They get free promo pics, and I get the best time ever plus experience.”

“And your portfolio gets fatter.”

---