by Vic Tyler
I couldn’t deny it reflected me. Music was a part of me. Music was everywhere.
But every time I picked up my cello and reacquainted myself with it, I couldn’t see myself doing that for the rest of my life — sitting on stage, following the swings and taps of a conductor’s baton, playing classical music.
And since I left that world to join this one, seeing people so dedicated to capturing the freedom of their art like Brie and Benji, I wanted to pave my own path. I didn’t know how long I wanted to continue being a photography assistant, but maybe it was time to start thinking about what to do next.
The conference door opened. Benji stood there with a raised brow.
“What are you doing on the floor?”
I sat up and combed my staticky hair with my fingers. Benji glanced down to the Ansel Adams book he lent me.
“Taking a break,” I said, standing up and dusting my pants.
Ever since I went to get lunch with Amir, the atmosphere between Benji and me seemed awkward and tense even though nothing changed. When I asked him later why he responded that way, he just looked at me, his face expressionless, and said, ‘You wanted exclusivity when we fuck, but you’re free to see whoever you want outside of that.’
And since work suddenly picked up, we hadn’t had much of a chance to have sex or talk about anything non–work related.
I had expected that answer, but hearing it aloud was so jarring that I couldn’t say anything in response. My chest felt like it was being twisted and choked.
Amir had texted me a few times since then, and even though he was sweet and funny, I didn’t feel the same excitement I did when I saw Benji’s name in my notifications. With his sarcastic quips and the weird, unexpected humor he slipped in here and there. The curt messages that went straight to the point when he was absorbed with his work and thinking of nothing else.
His body was becoming my habit, his smile my drug, and his being my addiction. He knew that my body responded to his touch in a way it didn’t with anyone else, and he knew that I knew it too. While he was in my life, there was no other man I could look at, kiss, touch, feel, fuck, and love.
Was it possible to resolve my feelings when he was so close? Would I be able to stop breathing in a room heavy with his intoxicating poison?
What was supposed to be fun and casual was starting to sink its claws into my heart, and I needed to steel myself better. I couldn’t let myself fall in love. Not with this devil toying with my body. He could pluck it to his tune, but I couldn’t afford to give him my heart.
“What are you doing next weekend?” Benji asked, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.
I paused to admire his broad shoulders filling the wide door frame, his muscular arms bare and crossing his thinly veiled muscular chest. It was amazing how everything he did was photogenic, and yet he spent his life on the other side of the camera.
“Nothing yet,” I said.
During the entire time I’d worked there, the studio was open from Monday to Saturday without fail. Curious about exactly how much Benji was working, I flipped through the calendar archives and found that he only took longer days off on major holidays and a weekend in the fall that was administratively locked as “Mandatory Studio Sabbatical.”
It was next week, and Brie and I talked about taking an out–of–town spa trip. But with her packed schedule, she had to check about getting the days off and didn’t get back to me yet.
“I’m going to Maine to do some location scouting,” Benji said, oddly occupied with the chipping paint on the edge of the door. “It’ll be a different experience outside of the studio if you’re interested. But if you already have plans, then that’s fine.”
“Oh, do you have a shoot in Portland?” I asked, frowning.
Benji was occasionally called out for work, but it was never more than a couple of hours outside of the city.
“No,” he said, his jaw clenching. “It’s not an assignment. Grant and I wanted to see if we could expand our portfolio repertoire for the studio. Get some landscape and nature shots. See if we can use them as backdrops for future photo shoots. We’d have to camp for a couple nights. Nothing fancy, no glamping or shit.”
A work trip during vacation. A rough outing into the wilderness at that. I used to travel a lot when I played in concerts and performances, but they were usually pretty glitzy with hotels and expensive restaurants.
Benji sounded so uncomfortable that I wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the first time he asked anyone to travel with him. There was no way he asked any other photography assistant, not that any of them stuck around long enough. It was almost cute how hard he was trying.
“Isn’t Maine a little far for photo shoots?”
“It’d be for big projects with a bigger budget and more time,” Benji said, picking at a splinter in the exposed wood.
The excitement started bubbling up. I’d never been camping, and even though I wanted to think Benji remembered when I told him that, I was simply content with the opportunity.
“S’mores.”
Benji frowned. “S’mores?”
“I’ll go if there are s’mores.”
He scowled. “What are you, a child?”
I acted offended. “Is it even camping if you don’t have s’mores?”
“Sure, s'mores can be arranged,” Benji sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“What about campfire songs? Should I bring my guitar?”
“Only if you’re going to be playing it naked,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And you’re carrying it.”
“Oops, I think I lost my guitar somewhere in the middle of your sentence.”
I grinned and he smiled back, momentarily looking dazzlingly shy. Then his expression hardened back into his perma–scowl, and he disappeared out the door.
When I went out to ship some of the prints we needed to send to our clients, I let Brie know I needed to work next weekend. Her response was quick:
Brie
It’s all goooood. Wow Benji’s a dick for making you work on your weekend off. Ditch him and go to the spa! I have lots of work to do all weekend so I can’t make it anyway. :(
After leaving the post office, I stopped by the deli down the street to pick up lunch for Benji and me when I saw a familiar face in the back.
Janessa was wearing a matching set of hot pink sweats (it was amazing how some people could look amazing in those) with jeweled platform sneakers, her long blonde hair curled immaculately.
She sat coolly in her seat, examining her impeccably manicured nails, while the man across from her threw a quiet, contained tantrum. He looked old enough to be her father, dressed in a loose suit with thinning gray hair. His face was bright red, and even though I was near the register at the front of the restaurant, I could see spit flying onto the table between them. He grabbed a manila envelope on the table and tried to rip it in half, struggling with the thick document.
I turned around quickly. I had a feeling something I didn't want to know about was happening. I resolved to order quickly and leave without running into her.
As soon as I picked up my order, the front door slammed shut, and I saw the man storming out. I heard a nasally “ahem” behind me and turned around to see Janessa looking disdainfully down at me. Dammit. I almost made it.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said, narrowing her eyes when she recognized me. “Benji’s little toy. How funny. It’s a first for him, you know. Paying for some ass.”
I turned around to leave when long hot pink nails appeared in my face, her hand clapped onto my shoulder.
“Don’t get so offended. We’re like sisters,” she said snidely, winking at me. “Isn’t he good? Don’t worry, I like to share him. After all, I taught him everything he knows.”
My stomach threatened to empty itself and throw up digested cereal onto her bubblegum hoodie.
“We’re not sisters,” I said, jerking my shoulder away. “And he’s since learned a lot of new th
ings. But you seem salty that he hasn’t called since you’re still thinking about him even when you aren’t sleeping with him anymore.”
I jumped a little when Janessa burst into a high–pitched cackle.
“Honey, I don’t need to think about him. He’s always at home,” she giggled and winked. “He looks even bigger on a wide screen. You can come over and watch. I’m not shy.”
I turned around and nearly sprinted to the exit.
“I’ll see how yummy he’s gotten for myself,” her distant voice called from the gap of the closing door. “He’ll call me when he’s done with you.”
The thought of Benji and Janessa intruded into my thoughts, and my stomach violently threatened to turn inside out. Even though I knew Benji wasn’t seeing her (there was no way he could fit that into his schedule with work and me taking up all his extra time), I hated that she somehow knew how to press my buttons and that I gave her the reaction she wanted.
Even more, the thought that there were videos out there of them was sickening. Even worse, what if he had them too?
Ping.
Benji: Where are you?
Maria: About to call an Uber. Need anything else?
Benji: No.
Maria: Hah, miss me?
Ping. Ping ping ping ping.
Benji: No
Benji: Taking so goddamn long
Benji: Just get here soon
Benji: Doesn’t mean I miss you
Benji: Studio feels empty
My stupid smile reflected back at me from my phone. Breathe in and out. Even though Benji had a past, that’s what it was. His past. There was nothing I could do about it, and now he was within my reach, reaching out for me just as much as I reached out for him. I doubted Janessa ever saw this side of Benji, let alone traveled anywhere with him.
Ah, speaking of which. Camping. In my excitement, I didn’t realize that I had no idea what to take. Tents? Water filters? Bear repellent?
Me: What do you need to go camping?
Brie: You’re going camping?
Me: Yeah, next weekend.
Brie: Ok. Hmm come by later. I have some camping gear you can take with you. Around 8?
I confirmed, reminding myself to tell Benji I needed to get off a little earlier. Work and otherwise.
But I didn’t have to mention the latter to Benji.
As soon as I walked through the studio doors, Benji pulled me into his office and pinned me against the door. His lips were instantly on mine — hot, fervent, and frantic.
Not touching each other for a couple days always ended with pent–up sexual energy that we couldn’t satiate for the next couple of days to make up for the time we missed. He barely gave me time or space to breathe as his hands roamed greedily over my body — clasping my breasts and squeezing my ass and grinding his denim–clad erection against me.
“Wait, lunch,” I moaned between kisses. “And Vante Ads. Appointment. Thirty minutes.”
“Yupp,” he said, hoisting my butt up so I had to wrap my legs around him. He put me on his desk and peeled my pants off.
“Lunch,” he said as he dove between my legs. “So you’re going to have to settle for five.”
“Five what?” I asked through the lustful haze that was starting to fog my mind.
“Orgasms,” he said matter–of–factly, as though there couldn’t be any other options. “Now shut up.”
“Brie,” I called through her door. “You didn’t pick up your phone, so I just followed your neighbor up.”
The door opened suddenly, and a winded Brie opened the door
“Sorry,” she said, clearing her throat. “I didn’t hear my phone. Come on in.”
I stepped in and was startled to find Grant standing, grabbing his coat.
“Evening, Maria,” he said. Same smile as always. “I was just about to leave. Work went well today?”
“The usual,” I said. “Benji’s a hurricane when he works. There’s barely any downtime.”
“Oh?” Grant’s smile was turning up more on one side. Uh oh. “What’s he like outside of work? Surely he’s not hurrying anything there.”
I scowled.
“There’s barely any time when he’s not thinking about work,” I said, ignoring his last statement. “But that’s what I love about working with him. He’s always creating, always coming up with new ideas.”
“Yeah,” Grant said, beaming proudly. “He’s a true artist.”
He looked like a father bragging about his son. It was weirdly cute of Grant.
He continued, “We’ve been talking about exploring some new avenues for his work.”
“Yeah, like incorporating nature photography, right? It’s a pretty cool idea to do the photo shoots out in natural settings. Editing might be a lot harder to make sure the models and the elements come out nicely.”
“Oh, that sounds fun,” Brie said, plopping down next to me with a bowl of pretzels. “As long as there aren’t any mosquitoes.”
“Photo shoots in nature,” Grant repeated slowly, raising his eyebrow the tiniest bit. “It is a novel idea but a bit hard to do that in New York City.”
“We’re going location scouting in Maine somewhere next weekend,” I said, munching on a pretzel. “I did tell him that’s pretty far for a photo shoot though.”
“Maine next weekend,” he repeated.
His face broke out into a smirk as he took his phone out, suddenly absorbed in it.
“You guys are closing the studio for the weekend?” Brie said, frowning. “When’s the last time that happened?”
Her head whipped to look at Grant.
“Oh.”
She turned to me, suddenly excited.
“Oh!”
Grant put his phone away, and he and Brie looked at each with a knowing look, both looking way too pleased with themselves.
“What?” I asked suspiciously. “Why are you two acting so weird?”
“Benji’s a workaholic. He never closes the studio, even on the weekends, except for major holidays when he’s forced to,” Brie said, her eyes twinkling. “And his birthday.”
“He didn’t even want the time off, but I put it in as one of the conditions in our work contract that the studio remains closed that weekend,” Grant explained.
“We tried to throw parties for him or get him to go out with us, but he never wanted to celebrate his birthday,” Brie said. “He just disappeared after closing the studio until he came back to open up on Monday. He never talks about what he does. Grant practically stalked him to find out he goes camping every year by himself.”
Brie looked pointedly at Grant, who shrugged with an innocent smile.
“A GPS tracker is hardly stalking,” was his response.
“It’s his birthday?” I asked incredulously. “Why is he inviting me? This isn’t just work?”
Brie scoffed. “He’s never invited anyone else to go with him.”
“Maybe we should crash the party.” Grant looked at Brie, eyes gleaming.
“Yes,” she agreed immediately. “He’ll never forgive us.”
“Worth it.” Grant shrugged.
“Bring a huge cake too.”
“Bubblegum flavored.”
“With koalas on it.”
“Are you trying to kill him?”
Brie scrunched her nose. “He won’t die as long as he’s not camping in Australia.”
“Wait,” I said, feeling slightly panicked. “What do I do? It’s his birthday. What should I do?”
“You should make sure he’s not murdering children or doing anything illegal up in the woods,” Brie said, grimly.
“Should I get him something? What do I even get for someone like him?”
“I’m sure he’d be happy with anything you get him,” Grant said gently.
His expression softened affectionately. I blinked to make sure I was seeing him right.
“Get him a buttplug,” Brie said firmly, placing her hands on mine. “To replace that stick up his ass.”
Shortly after, Grant excused himself and practically skipped out the door. Brie bustled around the apartment, gathering the camping supplies she was going to lend me.
“Grant stopped by the studio the day after we went to the bar,” I started, leaning my chin on the back of the couch as I watched her flit around.
“Isn’t he always there?” Brie asked, distractedly.
“He seemed particularly disturbed,” I said. “Any idea why?”
Brie paused, her hand flying up to her neck. I frowned when I saw she wasn’t wearing her necklace.
“Wait, what happened to your necklace?”
“Oh, the clasp broke,” she said sheepishly. “That’s actually what we fought about. Kind of.”
“What? Why? Wasn’t Grant the one who gave it to you?”
Brie hummed, absentmindedly rubbing her empty neck.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “When he dropped me off back home, I told him it broke —”
“Wait, hold on,” I said, holding my hand out and frowning. “He dropped you off?”
“Yeah,” Brie said, looking at me quizzically. “He drove to the bar, so he said he’d give me a ride home.”
A flash of annoyance shot through me. Grant should’ve been a lawyer with all his technical verbal loopholes.
“So why did you guys fight?” I asked, pushing my irritation for Grant out of the way.
She rubbed the empty spot between her collarbones as though she felt strangely naked there. “I asked about where he got it so I could get it repaired, but he shut me down. Basically, he thought it was time I stopped wearing it, and I disagreed.”
My heart sank at the distant look in her eyes. Brie hadn’t told me the whole story behind the necklace, but there was so much complexity to her and Grant’s relationship that I didn’t probe. But I knew how much it meant to her, and that for her, it was symbolic of the hope that one day her feelings might be returned.