Is one nice word enough to please him? Is he so sensitive? Andrzej decided that he needed to be more aware of how he was behaving and what he was saying.
"Actually, there's one more thing I want to talk to you about," he announced lightly.
"Yes?"
Andrzej was already sitting at the table, and Śliwiński was serving him a plump and aromatic omelet. The orange juice was waiting for him, and the coffee was finishing its brewing process.
"I thought a lot about it. Actually, I couldn't help but think about it and to be honest, I'd rather get it off my conscience." Andrzej took an envelope with money out of his briefcase. "Maybe it's not the best time, yes over breakfast, but I really can't keep the money. I couldn't spend them."
Dominik stared at them glumly, holding the coffee pot in his hand.
"I explained to myself" continued Andrzej "that I only sold the photos that I took. After all, I am a photographer and this is my job. The truth is, however, that by taking these photos and threatening to publish them, I exceeded certain limits of decency. Not only was this unfair, it also took a heavy toll on my honor. I'm sorry."
Without a word, Śliwiński took the envelope and threw it into one of the drawers, as if he immediately wanted to remove it from his eyes and memory. He poured coffee into mugs and sat down across from his guest.
"There was no case," he announced, looking him straight in the eye. Andrzej had trouble reading his expression. Dominik's lips were smiling, but his eyes were moist.
It couldn't be that he was enjoying the money back. Maybe he felt sad because he remembered how the money came to Nowicki's possession? Andrzej was unable to figure it out, so he gave up.
"Thank you."
"As for the portfolio," continued Dominik "I don't know when we will be able to start the session. Today I am meeting with the manager to discuss the movie proposals I have received. Only then will I know what my schedule will be for the next few days and weeks."
So Dominik meets Marczak! No wonder he looked emotionally tired. Andrzej remembered how sorry he felt when the next day after the attack the man did not give a sign of his life. It was only the next day that he spoke purely for business, which was another blow for the actor. They'll probably meet today for the first time since that traumatic event and it was perfectly understandable that Śliwiński was nervous at the thought of meeting his long-time lover.
The photographer wondered if Marczak finally apologized to Dominik.
"What about your schedule?" asked Śliwwiński. A softly sounding voice snapped Andrzej out of his thoughts.
"I'm actually a freelancer, but it looks like I'm quitting my job anyway."
"Really?" His amazement was sincere.
"I was supposed to do it a few days ago. It took a while, but the decision has already been made."
"But ..." Dominik instinctively looked towards the neighboring house.
"The editorial office rents it only until the end of the month. I quit my job last August. In September, a family with a little son will live there. The room upstairs will be his. You'll be safe from voyeurs by now.
"Ah, yes ..." said Dominik. Andrzej again had a problem with reading Śliwiński's reaction. He had no idea if it was a voice of relief or disappointment. But why would he be disappointed? Absurd.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence as it grew colder and colder. The breakfast was tasty, to say the least, and the photographer decided that even if Dominik quit his job as an actor, he could confidently run a restaurant.
"There is a new, interesting movie proposal?" Nowicki asked over coffee.
"Not really. Another romantic comedy and some independent cinema, the script and the protagonist of which I do not understand - it will probably be cult in a few years, but I do not know how I will survive on the set. By the way, can I see what you brought?"
"Of course" Andrzej brought out his own portfolio.
Dominik looked through them in silence while Andrzej drank his coffee and watched him closely over his mug. The actor devoted a few moments of attention to each photo, but he did not comment on any, which made the photographer's heart beat faster. What if he doesn't like his work? What if Dominik resigns from cooperation and Andrzej will quit the tabloid, he will remain destitute, but with a nice loan?
Śliwiński finished watching the album and returned to its beginning.
"You arranged the photos in an interesting way," he noted. "It's like telling the story of your romance with the lens."
Nowicki was surprised by his perceptiveness.
"That's right," he admitted. "Most people think that they are arranged by subject, while they are arranged in chronological order."
"And it is the subject of interest, not yours point of view, that has changed over time. You are a very good portraitist, but ... why exactly portraits?"
"The man on the front page is my grandfather. On my fifteenth birthday, he gave me the first camera in my life and this is one of my first photos. I was a real jerk back then, and I wasn't really interested in what was happening around me. Grandpa had cancer, which I didn't know. He died a few months later and I was left with this photo of him. When I come back to it, memories come back too. I want to capture a fragment of the passing time and keep it forever for those who remain."
Only after he had finished speaking did Andrzej notice that Dominik was staring at him with glittering eyes. There was something about that aquamarine gaze that made his heart beat faster. Dominik grinned suddenly.
"I want you to capture me. Me as a human. People know me for my roles, but that's not me. When I am gone, I will only be left with a few lies."
"You don't have ordinary photos from ordinary life?"
"No. Maybe that's why I liked that photo you took when I cleaned up so much."
This simple answer surprised Andrzej and made him sad. Who was supposed to take ordinary, everyday photos of Dominik, if there was no one in his ordinary, everyday life?
He smiled at him.
"I was just thinking of that. I want to take you to several places and take pictures there, but also to follow you with the camera. Surely you've heard more than once that the camera loves you. As for me, you come out best in unposed photos."
Like the one that I can't tell you about because it's too intimate for you to let me keep.
"Could you leave this album for me for a while? I'd like to watch it again."
"Sure," Andrzej stood up. "Dominik ..."
"Yes?"
"Good luck in your meeting."
"Thanks."
Andrzej got a call from the editorial office, which was rare. Marlenka was not very effusive talking to him, which made him wonder what he had screwed up this time. He found out immediately after entering the boss's office.
"What the hell is this?" Chef editor roared, throwing a tablet with the cover of a competing magazine on the desk.
"Tablet," Andrzej replied indifferently, knowing full well that this was the wrong answer.
"Nowicki!" The editor roared. "Don't be so cheeky. It was you who was supposed to take such pictures and not let them be taken of you!"
It was an undeniable fact. For some reason, Andrzej did not think that other magazines might also have their own photographers targeting Śliwiński. This photo was completely innocent and showed two men at lunch, but what if someone besides him witnessed assault or sex between Dominik and Marczak? Not good.
"Sorry," he muttered remorsefully.
"I do not know by what miracle and when you got into such a friendship with Śliwiński, but we have to use it."
"What? Why?"
"We cannot afford for them to sell more than we are! Speak."
"What should I say?"
"Don't play stupid ..."
It was not good. It was very bad. If he doesn't give them anything, they'll snoop around until they find something, and Dominik had too much to hide. Maybe if he had friends supporting him it would be easier for him to survive the scandal, but being completely alone with his sensitivity, he will collapse under its weight. It was too early for him to reveal the secrets of his life. Journalistic hyenas will eat him alive, leaving no bones behind. Andrzej had to give them something, anything.
"What do you want to know?"
"His love life."
"Does not exist. He focuses on work."
"Nothing turns it."
"He got three scripts. Today he meets with the manager to discuss them. He's been working hard on one, but it looks like he's not going to make up his mind."
"What about this from Baptiste?"
"I'm talking about this one. Śliwiński learned French to better communicate with the team and act out his French-speaking lines, but he is not happy with the script and intends to withdraw his candidacy."
"That's bad," muttered the editor.
"Bad? Why?"
"Polish cinema is not a powerhouse and despite our best efforts, we do not have export goods. Language and accent are the barrier, many say. French actors, however, are able to get through this and gain worldwide fame and notoriety, drawing attention to the rest of French cinema. Śliwiński has everything that would allow him to go beyond our borders: beauty, presence, talent and most importantly, he can get rid of our accent."
"Then what, he has to play something he doesn't like just to please others?"
"He's a goddamn actor! He is a public figure! His life serves to please others!"
Andrzej wanted to tell him what he thought about such reasoning, but he bit his tongue. Not yet, he thought to himself. First, I have to build a network of friends for Dominik that he can lean on if everything collapses.
And it will collapse for sure. It's a miracle that he has kept his secret for so long, but the more famous he becomes, the more they will sniff around him. Now it's only a matter of time or luck. Of course, you can stall and make some sort of act that will satisfy the vultures for a few weeks, but this will have to be discussed with Dominik. Andrzej wondered how Dominik's meeting with Marczak is going?
"I know it's not fair," the editor surprised him. "Twenty, even ten years ago, we respected the privacy of our stars out of respect for their work and themselves. Unfortunately, the world has changed. Well, we wanted globalization. Most of our readers are women from the age of fifteen to thirty-five, with a clear indication of the younger ones. You know how teenagers are. I guess they no longer knew the meaning of the word privacy."
"Shouldn't we remind them of him?"
���Maybe. But then we'll go out of business. Everyone, including you, will lose their jobs."
Nowicki bit his tongue again.
"I know you don't like this job. You consider her below your dignity. Maybe you're right. I hired you because I saw your winning jobs and thought they were really good. I still think of them that way. You have talent and sooner or later you will fly away on your own wings, but we will stay. We have to adapt to the needs of the market otherwise we will not have enough to support our families. Therefore, I will ask you here and now, can we count on any interesting material from you about Śliwiński, or should I delegate someone else?"
"I don't think anyone will find anything. He's just boring. Little Mr. Perfect."
"Who visits him?"
"Marczak. And me" he confessed.
"How did you meet?"
Andrzej decided to use the story that Dominik used earlier.
"I was observing him when I saw him stumble and fall on the table. He hadn't moved for a while, so I imagined the worst. I ran to help but everything was fine. He didn't do anything serious to himself."
"You blow your cover?"
"Yes."
"How did he react?"
"At first he didn't say anything, then he thanked me. If the fall had been less fortunate, he figured, my reaction might have saved his life."
The editor thought about it.
"In fact, there's not much you can get out of it. This restaurant, whose idea was it?"
"Mine. This is my friend's place. I figured she would be happy to have a famous guest."
"By the way, you shot her ad."
"By the way," he admitted, although he absolutely did not expect this to develop.
"What hobby does he have?"
"He likes to cook. He liked it at school. Old Polish comedies make him laugh. He hardly watches TV. He spends a lot of time learning French. He gets up in the morning, works out in his own little gym, takes a shower, eats breakfast, studies for a few hours or reading. Sometimes he goes out to the grocery store. He cooks dinner for himself, after that he will clean up a bit or he will put in the laundry and learn again. He reads a book to his pillow."
"What kind of book?"
"Different. Crime novels, romances, philosophical, historical."
"And his erotic life? No woman?"
"None" such an answer to such a question was absolutely not a lie. Andrzej was relieved because he was afraid he would get confused in his testimony.
"The man has his needs, so maybe he ..."
"I didn't look under the covers" Andrzej growled, blushing "but I don't think he does."
"All right, all right," The editor-in-chief withdrew. "But we won't really go far with this."
And thank God, Nowicki sighed with relief.
"Try anyway. You have until the end of the month."
"Sure."
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