Chapitre 7: ASH
After a few days, I went back to Eagle to propose my new portfolio. I knew what Mrs. Johnson wanted me to show them before, that is a collection of photos that as one tells a story. Or perhaps just one photograph that tells a whole story on its own. I tried my best, I really did. I spent the last few days travelling to many parts of the city. I photographed children, I photographed homeless people, I even went to an OB-gyne clinic to capture life before it even started. I wanted this proposal to kickstart my career at my dream company, so I wanted it to be perfect this time.
Just like the first time I was here, Mrs. Johnson was sitting over the other end of a long table inside a glass-walled room. I sat in the middle again and waited for her to scan through my folio. She still didn't remember my name because she had to look it up again on the cover page. I wonder if she does that to everybody or just to bad photographers like me.
She was twisting her lips and that made me nervous. Somehow it says "I'm interested quite enough, but we still aren't there". She then flipped through the pages once again, this time faster. Perhaps she's trying to view it from a larger perspective. Then she sighed.
"To be honest, I personally liked it," I felt a sudden rush of excitement and hope as I heard her words. She removed her eyeglasses just like before and placed them on my paper.
"Let me give you some advice, Mr. Clayton," that's when the rush of excitement and hope subsided and got replaced by nervousness. "Life is meant to be enjoyed, not pondered upon. And photographs are made to capture its beautiful moments, its awful moments, or the mundane and routine ones. These little things are actually what make up a story."
We just sat there in silence. I don't really understand what she meant by that. Was I pushing too hard to make my photographs create a moving story? When I can actually capture them without effort? I didn't get it.
"Listen, maybe you're trying too hard," so I was right. "I hope someday you'll learn that the art of photography isn't capturing the amazing and the unknown. It's just seeing the little and ordinary things, in the perspective of a lens."
With that, she stood up and walked outside the room. She did bid me goodbye though, but I wondered why she left. Was I the only applicant who came in today? I didn't see any lines when I entered the room. Did they really try to accommodate me after the hiring day? These thoughts gave a little spark of hope. Maybe they did see a potential in me. Now all I need to do is to understand her advice.
I stood up a minute after she left. I walked outside the Eagle office and wandered through the long, busy hallway. It's design is industrial, only gray, black, and white accents everywhere. But at the nearing corner is a whole new office that seems to be a whole different world. I stood in front of it and just observed the place. It has a pastel palette playing with blue and lavender colors. I knew in an instant that it was the Spotlight office, the fashion and entertainment magazine. The whole place is like the setting in the film "The Devil Wears Prada", except there weren't messy outfits everywhere. Maybe they keep those inside the huge steel cabinets behind the reception.
I brought out my camera and tried to take a picture of the place. No one seemed to notice so I took another one. Hmmm, busy people. That's all I could get from this frame and I couldn't even put meaning behind it. How do I conform to Johnson's advice?
A woman from afar saw me flashing picture after picture in front of their office. She was in a smart attire -- pencil cut skirt topped with a light blue collared long sleeve that opened two buttons down exposing the tip of her bosom. But I wasn't looking at that, I just noticed that she may be wearing it like that to impose her dominance even on nerdy glasses. Her hair was dark and wavy, her skin was naturally tan. I'm thinking Cuban or Colombian, or probably Puerto Rican. She was holding a folder open when she started walking towards me.
She adjusted her eyeglasses down a little, looking directly at me. "Ay, ay, ay, por favor!" I was taken aback by her tone, because for once I felt like she knew me or was somehow waiting for me. She stopped right in front of me and I towered over her. She stood barely past my chest and the look on her eyes was intimidating. She's small but her dominance can silence a whole room.
"What are you doing taking pictures there? And why are you even using that crap?" She motioned to my camera and I felt ashamed for a moment. Her accent is hard and I can audibly hear her Spanish descent. She has a deep hoarse voice that can be good for a voice over. I immediately understood that she had mistaken me for someone else.
""Actually, I-" she cut me off at once.
"No more excuses, Pablo. Here's your assignment for the Lumina Ball on Friday night." She handed me the folder she was holding earlier. I browsed through it and saw instructions on where to take shots from. It even had the table seat plan for the ball. This Pablo guy is about to get in his lucky night. Lumina Ball is one of the most-awaited parties here in the United States. It is usually held in California, which I had never been to before, so I got very excited.
Tons of stars gather there every year, including all the highest paid Jennifer's you could think of, all Hollywood's Emma's and Julia's, critically acclaimed actors and multi-awarded actresses, all together in one big night. It's always the most awaited event of the year, and it is always held every first night after Thanksgiving.
"Now give me that crappy camera and go pack your things. Your tickets are inside that envelope," she said without even looking directly at my face. She harshly grabbed my camera and gave it to one of the assistants roaming around the office. She turned around and immediately turned back to me again.
"Oh, and don't do anything stupid." This time, she looked at me in the eye. Her lashes were long and her eyes were light brown. She's got thick eyebrows that complement her thick lashes. Her eyebrows crossed slightly, too lightly to be noticed. "Hmm, you look different today. Is it the hair?"
I wanted to tell her she had mistaken me for someone else but a part of me didn't want to. So I just stood there in silence, waiting for her next words.
"Nah, my glasses are kinda crappy today." She removed her glasses and wiped them with her collar, then walked away and was gone. I looked at the folder again and saw a blue envelope. When I opened it, a plane ticket to California greeted my eyes. I gotta get to Pablo.
I may be desperate to kick start my career but I'm not the kind of person who will steal someone's job to start mine. I entered and got past the reception area without anyone noticing me. I got to the steel cabinets and I saw a guy, who looks like a photographer, putting things inside the cabinets.
"Hey man, uhhh, have you seen Pablo?" I showed the guy the folder I was holding that has a tag on it named Pablo.
He looked at me like I lost my mind. "He's been MIA for days. Didn't you hear? They say he ran away because Dannah's a bitch", he pointed his lips at the woman I just talked to earlier. She must be Dannah. The boss. He left me with more questions than before. I was still holding the folder and the ticket. If he was missing in action, then maybe there's no harm if I try filling up his shoes for Lumina Ball, right?
I kept the folder and the ticket inside my bag and opened one of the steel cabinets. I was amazed to see a plethora of high-tech equipment in there, especially cameras. I touched them one by one and filled myself with the sensation of these expensive things. If I get to that ball, it can bring me a step ahead of my competitors at Eagle. Maybe I can finally get the job.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone