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Here is the new chapter! Thank you for reading everyone!




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


camera andrew

 

Theirs is a life of shadows. In broad daylight, they must remain in the shade, feigning politeness and indifference towards one another. In public, they are formal and cautious, forced to act disinterested towards one another.

But even when they are together, they are careful to keep things secret from one another. To keep conversation airy and playful, to avoid certain topics and certain people. Guilt. Ingrid. Secrets. They do not discuss their feelings or their morals nor do they speak of the future. Theirs is an insulated world where the outside ceases to exist.

Yet one afternoon, both lying together on Dana’s bed, limbs still entwined, Andrew asked.

“Do you think cheating is genetic?”

Dana looked up from the crook of Andrew’s arm, eyebrows raised. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know” He replied, staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. “I was just thinking about how my dad, who was this serial womanizer. And my grandfather on my mum’s side…”

“He used to have affairs too?” Dana asked.

“No, not affairs. Just this one woman, who used to live with my grandparents, she stayed with my grandfather when my mum was a kid and even when I was around. She died there too, three years after my grandfather died.”

“Wow” Dana was stunned by the information. “You mean your grandmother was okay with this?”

“Um, I don’t think she was ever okay with it” He was frowning slightly as he spoke. “I’ve only just started to figure this out recently. My granddad was a doctor, like a GP, you know a general practitioner and this woman Margaret was his assistant. She was a nurse and a receptionist. She rented out a separate cottage out in the backyard and lived there. And the cottage was built after I was born, before that she rented out the attic.”

“How long did she live there?”

“I don’t know how long but it had to have been at least over forty years. She was there when my mum was born. They used to go on trips together a lot too. He used to travel to rural areas to do volunteer work. Like visit farmers and treat indigenous people and she would go with him.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m just figuring this out now. I used to think she just lived there. But it makes so much sense.”

“Maybe it isn’t what you think. She might have just been single or maybe she had her own reasons for not ever getting married.” Dana soothed, rubbing his arm consolingly. She knew this information was upsetting to him. She herself felt an empty sadness hearing the story.

“No, I remember how she was when he died. And he left her a share of his estate too.”

Andrew had been fifteen when his grandfather had died. He’d had a massive heart attack, had been found slumped over his desk by Margaret. During the funeral and the wake, he had attributed her shell shocked silence to the trauma of finding him rather than any grief.

He also remembered the will reading as well, the reaction of his mother alongside her siblings who had argued that Margaret deserved nothing. There were late night talks over contesting the will until his grandmother herself had said that it wasn’t happening. His grandmother was the only one who would say her name afterwards, the rest of his family referring to her as either ‘her’, or in worse moods ‘hag’ and ‘spinster.’

He remembered Margaret as a sweet, shy, soft spoken woman who for the most part kept to herself, reading most of the time. She also knitted and sewed blankets and clothes, mainly for the children, as well as tending to the large garden out back, making preserves and pies from the fruit and vegetables grown. The presents of clothing and food she would shyly leave out on the porch, never knocking on the door. She had never set foot inside the main living areas of house either.

“When we were kids, we would make up scary stories about her. Pretend she was a witch, dare each other to sneak up to the cottage. We even broke in one time, went through her things.” He said, recalling the sudden thought aloud. His grandfather had been furious but Margaret had intervened, insisting that no harm had been done. He let out a hollow laugh at the memory, “Kids are so cruel, aren’t they?”

“I don’t think so. You didn’t intend to be cruel about her. For children it’s all about having fun, they don’t understand. It’s not the same.” Dana smiled at him; trying to be reassuring. “If there is one thing I’ve learnt in law school is that you have to try to prove intent for any criminal or civil offense.”

“Yeah, you’re right” He kissed her on the forehead before laying back down, wrapping his other arm around the front of her bare gip. “I don’t know; this is kind of weird for me. My Dad, I used to hate, still do sometimes. My grandad’s a hero of mine though. It feels strange, knowing this now.”

“So you don’t think he is anymore?” Dana suddenly felt nervous, unsure of where this was heading.

“No, he still is. He inspired me to become a photographer, you know. He was a photographer himself…” Andrew’s voice trailed off, deep in thought again.

“You never told me that.” Dana said, probing him to continue. She had never seen so many words spill from him.

“I’ve never really told anyone. He taught me how the camera worked, opening it apart and explaining everything. The basement was his dark room too. I remember watching those images appear out of nowhere in the bath of developer fluid. It seemed like magic, like an almost holy thing to do.”

Dana was silent, absently rubbing her hand back and forth across his forearm, waiting for him to continue.

“He used to always say ‘Every picture tells a story, Andrew. So remember your photo has to have a story worth telling!’ I feel like I’ve let him down when I remember that.”

“How have you let him down? I don’t understand.”

“Oh, if he saw my work today, he wouldn’t respect it. He used to tell me photography was so powerful, because through imagery we could change the course of lives and therefore the course of history. It can change how people think and perceive the world. You can debate with people about anything, use all the words and facts in the world but no one can argue with an image. Not even through the important stuff like wars and famines, but even through the everyday. I mean, that’s what I set out to do.” He thought of those famous photos his grandfather had shown him at exhibitions. Dorothy Lange and the great depression. The young naked girl running in Vietnam, screaming from the burning napalm. The Buddhist monk, who had set himself on fire in protest of the war. The vulture who had watched the hunched over Sudanese infant.

As if reading his mind, Dana said then “I remember when we first met, you told me how the guys from the Bang-bang club were your heroes.”

“You remember that?” Andrew smiled, touched.

“Yes and you did some amazing work back then, Andrew. The faces of AIDS series. And the other one, the New York street series” Dana said encouragingly. “I mean not to say your work isn’t amazing now but you became so acclaimed. And you weren’t even twenty. Don’t discredit everything you’ve done.”

“Yeah, and then what happened to me? I got caught up in all the hype. The exclusive club invites, and the attention from models who wanted to sleep with me. And the money. Now I take photos of dumb as fuck celebrities who have an opinion on everything. My granddad used to always say that it was important to die knowing you did something important rather than have lived a life doing nothing.”

“Don’t say your work isn’t anything, being an artist contributes something to the world too” Dana said. “And there’s no reason you can’t still do photo journalism. You could do both if you wanted.”

“I can’t. And you know why? Because I lived the life those photographers lived for a few years and I couldn’t do it. I used to think being this vagrant drifter was amazing but it got tiring. I lived with a lot of different people, slept with different women but even then, I felt like I was always alone and I couldn’t do it. I’m weak. I want comfort and an easy life and a family who I see every day.”

“Don’t be silly” Dana felt a flash of irritation. “You’re entitled to those things, everyone is. It doesn’t make you weak.”

“What about sleeping with you while I’m still with Ingrid? Doesn’t that make me weak?” His brow was furrowed, discontent evident in his face. “I’m ruining both of you. I can’t resist you and I’m too much of a coward to leave her. It makes me worse than weak. I’m a bad person, scum.”

Dana felt her body turn numb at his words, her heart sinking down to the pit of her stomach.

“Please don’t say that. You’re not bad, Andrew” Dana was almost pleading with him, her voice low. “You’re not a bad person at all, you’re just a person. Nothing else.”

“Yeah” Andrew replied, sounding unconvinced, his voice containing an edge of sarcasm. “Yeah, we all have faults, right?”

Dana sat up, moving away from the heat of his body. Goose bumps breaking out on her skin, she drew her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around for warmth.

“What’s wrong?” Andrew sat up as well. “Dana, I wasn’t implying anything about you.”

“You don’t need to. I know it’s my fault. I don’t want you to be unhappy” She stared ahead as she spoke. Her voice contained no sign of emotion, the words sounding almost rehearsed. “I told you the day you wanted to go, I would let you. You just have to say the word.”

“Hey, wait. I never said I was unhappy” He moved near her, pried her arms away, trying to get her to turn towards him. “Come on, Dana. Look at me”.

Dana hated it when people said that to her. Look at me. It instantly rendered her incapable of doing so, her eyes focusing down or anywhere else but that person. But she forced her gaze up, looked him in the eye.

“Yes?” She asked stiffly. Her throat had closed up against her will.

“I didn’t mean you make me unhappy, I just feel guilty sometimes. I can’t help that.”

“I know that. I do too. I feel like I’ve put you in this position, almost against your will. I never wanted to make you feel miserable.”

“You don’t make me feel that way at all. It’s the opposite. I haven’t been this happy in a long time.” His tone was earnest, imploring. “Okay you’re right, I do feel unhappy sometimes. I feel guilt and I feel shame but it has nothing to do with you. You don’t make me feel those things. You make me feel…” He paused, searching for the word, “elated.”

Dana could feel her hopes rise at his words but she shook her head, “I don’t believe you”.

“It’s true” He insisted. “When I wake up, I feel excited. I feel so energetic. I want to tell strangers on the street about you, I bring your name up in conversations that have nothing to do with you at all. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing when I go to bed. I never dream about you though. Maybe because you feel like a dream. Being with you…” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to say. You’re the best and the brightest thing to have happened to me. You’re like a shooting star, you’re amazing.”

Dana looked at him in amazement, unwilling and almost unable to believe. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do. I can’t take this lightly. You’re in me now and I can’t get you out. I’m nervous for feeling like this. I know it’s almost too good to be true.”

“I know how you mean. I mean, I know how that feels” Dana’s face was burning a deep red, her words jumbling as she spoke. “For me, it’s like everything that’s ever happened to me has meant to lead me to you. And I’m glad. I feel like it was all worth it. Whatever happens after doesn’t matter. It’s still a happy ending.”

“We’re starting. We aren’t ending.”

“Are we?”

“I hope so. Who knows where this will go? I think about it a lot. About…” His voice began to falter, suddenly nervous at revealing these thoughts aloud. “About leaving Ingrid. About us being together as a couple.”

Dana pulled back, offended. “Don’t make promises like that, Andrew.”

“I’m not making promises” Andrew grabbed her hand in response, tugging her closer. “I’m trying to be honest. I’m not good at this. Nothing in my life is certain anymore. I lie all the time; you’re the only person I’m honest with. Even if we end, I can’t imagine it right now. I don’t want to”.

“Maybe you’ll get tired of me. You’ll start to resent this, resent me” Dana said. “Isn’t that what usually happens?”

“I could never resent you. No matter what happens. Even if we ended, I would miss you too much. It would be hard to see you knowing I can’t have you anymore.”

“You wouldn’t.” Dana replied. She moved forward onto his lap, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“That’s a shitty thing to say” He felt stung by that comment. “I mean it, I would miss you.”

“Not miss me. I know that. I meant see me” She tilted her head, began to kiss his shoulder, moving up his neck up to his ear lobe. “You wouldn’t see me anymore. Ever again.”

He frowned, puzzled. “Why not?”

Dana cupped his face in her hand and smiled, shook her head no. She closed her eyes and began to kiss his mouth, her body pushing into his. Despite the question still nagging him, he began to kiss her back, pulling her in response, sinking down onto the bed.

Afterwards as Andrew felt himself dozing off, he asked again. “Why wouldn’t I see you, Dana?”

“Because” Her eyes were closed as she spoke. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it. Because I would miss you too.”












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.