Caramel FlavorCaramel Flavor
He'd first seen her about a year ago. Standing on the street in a worn coat and black boots. A short, thin brunette with perfect cheekbones and natural curls. He only saw her and didn't get a good look at her face. She was probably looking to buy something. She was counting money in her little palm and doing it very clumsy and childishly. The second time it happened was in the summer. She was in a beige linen dress, with a bunch of bags in her hands, running across the road in the city center at the last second of a green traffic light. She ran so fast that she tripped over the curb on the other side. It looked like she had hurt her leg. She didn't even cry out; it was like the sound little kittens make – a quiet second squeak. She limped away and dragged herself along.
It was curious what kind of analysis a man in a car waiting for a yellow traffic light could make. It wasn't a game or entertainment for him, rather everything happened automatically. In recent months, the routine had finally taken its toll on him. Boring monotony and frequent irritation were already familiar conditions. When you wake up..., you put on your soft robe, your machine goes to make coffee, and everything is quiet and calm around you. You take the first sip and ask yourself: what am I doing here? It happens to everyone. I don't mean to be filled with drama, but it becomes a tragedy when you're an artist. Status is a heavy burden, constantly demanding validation and approval. Adam was a middle-aged man. Having become a famous photographer, he repeatedly confirmed his talent in front of huge audiences, considering it his responsibility. He was not a man of demanding behavior except to himself. His once-red hair was already interrupted by gray, and a week's worth of unshaven was not at all uncomfortable. Adam's nature was deep; he didn't like superficial women. He didn't like artificial breasts or empty eyes. It has been increasingly difficult to find a model of natural and graceful outlines in recent times. Marketing has disfigured millions of women. Fashion and outer beauty trends began to scare him lately. And how quickly and easily this poison seeped from the internet into the real world. Finding models was getting harder and harder. Every day hundreds of messages came to direct with pleas and requests for shoots. Sorting through the mail took an average of 2 hours a day. The photos I looked at made me lose focus. All the faces seemed typical, bland, and sometimes completely tasteless. Decades of creative career pressed on my chest, and long shoots gave me puffiness. And after an active day: hours of retouching, searching for new ideas, and an annoying soft robe.
Adam waited for Eve to arrive. Formerly his favorite model. Black-haired, sultry with a hard stare and wide hips. He'd always disliked vulgarity, and Eva was always on the edge. That was what mystical magnetism was. Like an expensive wine, she was tart. She knew her own price and always won any argument. Their shoots were always only on her terms: date, duration, idea, and amount. Everything as she wished. Adam never argued with her; he liked to give in to her coquettishly, liked the way her dark eyebrows and the corners of her lips lifted. Loved feeling like he was the one who could give her even a couple of hours of joy. Maybe he had a little bit of genuine feeling for her, but he'd never been able to admit it, even to himself. They didn't see each other for three years but corresponded periodically. Her move to Italy undermined his creative potency for a couple of months. The stagnation was excruciating. He spent most of his time on set, searching for new stories online. For him, it was a creative low. After two months came a period of rehabilitation, her face was gradually erased from his obsessive thoughts, shrouded in a light haze, and ceased to radiate the brightness that shocked him years ago. As time passed, other, new, and very different faces appeared. They brought inspiration and new ideas; life became as before, in some places, even better. Despite this, after a text from Eva yesterday:
I'll be there on Monday; something trembled in the stomach area.
Sunday morning, Adam slept in for the first time in a long time. In his gut, he sensed that he had slept for a long time. The old Rolex was always on; he only took it off when he gave it in for repair, and that was only once. Lying on his stomach, he pulled his hand out from under the pillow and couldn't make out the numbers...without his glasses, he could barely see, and they were lost in the tangle of the perpetually tangled blanket. He sat on the bed, leaning forward. At his feet lay the hated soft robe. Adam sighed heavily, stood up, and through sheer force, threw it on. There was a pressure comparable to weighted weights, but the habit was sacred. That's what people call it – stability. Rubbing out the blanket, glasses with scratched lenses clattered to the laminate floor. As soon as his vision returned, Adam realized he was twenty minutes late, followed by another heavy sigh. Walking along the long but narrow room, the picture of tonight's shoot was already building in his mind.
A huge box stood in the corner and was crammed with lenses so that pulling one out would drop all the others. Adam selected the right one and shoved it into a large black bag. 'Good thing today isn't a studio shoot,' ran through his mind. He disliked studios more than anything else. There wasn't much life itself in studio photography. Primarily, the staging looked deliberate and not natural. The fixation on backgrounds had long been primitive. Today he shot in a rented apartment with natural light. By this time, the model had already written three messages but meekly didn't call for fear of waking him up. Pouring coffee into a thermos, Adam pulled on the first of the t-shirts thrown on the chair, and there were usually about 8 of them. Shabby jeans hung on a hook in the bathroom. Somehow, he pulled himself together, fell behind the wheel of his red Alfa Romeo spider soft top, and slowly drove forward.
The city was ready to welcome the fall, and dry leaves were already lying somewhere; the smell of rain was thick. The roads were dusty and empty. On weekends only, the center was pandemonium, Adam didn't digest crowds, oxygen was always in short supply, and the idle chatter was perceived as white noise.
It wasn't a few seconds short of running a yellow traffic light. There were hardly any people at the intersection. Only a couple of students were laughing down the street, and She. Again, this attractive girl caught his eye out of the blue. This time her hair was tightly gathered into a bundle; her green peasant-style dress was blown about by the wind and had a permanently raised hem. Lacy soft ballet flats emphasized her thin ankle. She had her headphones on, and just like last time, she wasn't looking around at all. The time at the traffic light was running out 3...2...1. A yellow bus had already thrown a short honk in the back. And this time again, Adam didn't have time to see her face. Slowly inching forward, he saw her entering a small coffee shop through the rearview mirror.
The phone began to ring. The model's patience had run out. Adam decided not to call back, and it was still about 3 minutes away. Turning into the courtyard, he opened the navigator, even though he had already arrived at the address. The yard was a portal to another dimension: dark and creepy, the kind often seen in horror movies. He always rented apartments by photo, so these situations happened often, but he couldn't influence them. Adam only got the driveway number wrong. Driving a little farther, he saw one of his favorite models. She was sitting on a high concrete parapet with her legs wiggling flirtatiously. Robbie was what he called her because of her obvious resemblance to Margot Robbie. A sweet, blonde angel with a snub nose and a natural blush. Such a type was always sought after by audiences. Her beauty was graceful, and her eyes were gray and empty, like a child's. And although this appearance did not correspond to Robbie's inner state, it gave the right effect in the photo.
Her face lit up and spread into a sweet, childlike smile as soon as she saw Adam.
– 'I'm sorry, Robbie...to be honest, I just overslept, Adam shrugged guiltily and said quietly.
– I'm not offended at all; I'm glad you came; her gray eyes played in the sunlight and seemed almost white, "let's go quickly," Robbie said sweetly, jumping down from the parapet.
The apartment was on the third floor. The interior didn't bother Adam; the shoot was planned in front of a large window against the light. As soon as they walked in, preparations began. Adam was taking all the equipment out of his bag, trying it on. Due to the white walls, the room was overflowing with light. Robbie quickly went into the bath, traditionally powdered herself almost transparently. It wasn't their first time together; her every move was an arrangement. And even though Adam wasn't too hard on models, she didn't want to disappoint him. Robbie brushed her white hair and spritzed it with a very little bit of hairspray. She tinted her blonde eyelashes and removed her earrings and watch. Adam knocked on the door.
– Will you be here soon? – He asked quietly.
– Yes, in a minute
Then the door opened a little, and a very short, translucent dress on a thin wire trimmer appeared.
– That's for today, Adam said, waving the dress in the air.
He often bought clothes for his subjects. Over the years, he had accumulated a decent closet of women, which he skillfully combined with the models.
Robbie walked out into the main room with the large window. The thin beige dress was loose on her slim figure, emphasizing her thinness even more. Adam immediately grabbed the camera and looked only through it. The image of the home girl was alluring and arousing. In the natural light, her skin glowed, and her eyes turned snow-white. She resembled a mythical nymph. Robbie stood in profile against the window. Her soft pink nipples swelled with the touch of her dress and the slight draft. Puffy lips with a snub nose added to the cartoonish of her appearance. They didn't need to talk. She was a professional and knew her winning angles. Adam tried on the lights passionately. She played with her hands, gently touching her face and her narrow hips. Despite being naturally slender or even skinny, her buttocks were very juicy and rounded. The sag in her lower back only emphasized her youthful sexuality. Until an hour ago, her blush was barely visible, the color of a ripe peach. By the end of the shoot, her cheeks were scarlet from physical exertion. Slender fingers with short almond nails twitched, amused as she touched her body. Standing barefoot on the cool floor, her toes turned pink. With each shot, Robbie held her breath and anticipated the sweep of Adam's hand. With that gesture, he usually ended the entire shoot. Finally, he did. Robbie's neck and back were stiff, and her feet were finally cold.
– Everything's good today, he whispered as he reviewed the photo on the camera.
Robbie smiled and silently went to change in the bathroom. While Adam was gathering all the appliances, a completely different person walked into the room. Not even a hint of the blond angel was left. Heavy dark arrows and chocolate lipstick had knocked all of Robbie's angelic spunk off. This was what she looked like in real life. The short black dress slimmed and elongated her legs even more. She pulled out her stiletto sandals from her bag and, bouncing on one foot, tried to put them on quickly. She was very fond of such images and brightness and didn't realize how she was ruining herself. Hiding her beauty and exposing her nature. Surprisingly, she took great pleasure in it.
– Shall we settle up one of these days? – Robbie asked, out of breath.
– Sure, whatever suits you. I'll text you. – Zipping up his bag, Adam said.
Robbie walked over and kissed Adam gently on the cheek with the corner of her lips, it was their ritual. Their sympathy was sincere, but it was also highly workmanlike. It was simple and easy, with no fiddling or arguing. Everyone got what they wanted.
– Do you need a ride? – Adam asked, opening the car door.
– No, they've already come for me...around the corner, I'll run. I'll see you later. – she stormed out of the driveway and ran across the yard, loudly clicking her heels.
Adam dropped into his car and drove out to the other side to not embarrass Robbie and her next beau. Turning around, he couldn't understand how such a sweet girl was wasting her life in such a strange way. A glimpse of himself in a similar context, and he abruptly decided to put those thoughts to death before they had time to make him nervous.
Driving in the opposite direction, Adam remembered the morning and glanced at the small roadside coffee shop where That Girl had stopped by this morning. With a sharp tap on the brakes and the edge of his ear hearing a couple of swear words from the back, he pulled up right in front of it. Adam carefully opened the door with an annoying bell.
The interior of the café looked very cheap and simple. In gray and wiped-white, a bar counter consumed almost the entire area. Two small, skewed, slightly rundown tables stood in the corners, and three tall bar stools at the counter. It was very stuffy in the coffee shop. There was no air conditioning, and a small hanging fan dispersed the hot air only slightly. Behind the bar was She. Standing with her back to the main entrance, she was whipping milk into cappuccino foam. There were a couple of people in the coffee shop. Adam recognized her hair and thin, sharp shoulders. He sat in the chair across from her and quietly watched as she quickly made several cups of coffee. Her morning bundle on her head was practically falling apart, her brown curly locks falling down her unbuttoned shirt. The barista's uniform was chewed up with old stains. She turned sharply to face the man at the table and shouted: Your Cappuccino. Adam saw her profile and bright green eyes. They were so green, not typical. Perfectly sharp cheekbones drew a clear line across her face.
– Can I have a latte? – Adam asked quietly.
To which the beauty only nodded. Her nimble fingers are set to work. The rolled-up sleeves were constantly falling down and had to be pulled up, exposing her swarthy, thin wrists. Long fingernails tapped on the coffee machine and cups. She was foaming milk, and the third of her face that Adam could see was focused. Her eyebrows were lowered, and the hairs of her bangs were falling into her eyes. She was blowing them away very nicely.
– Your Latte, she turned her face completely around and scalded Adam with a deep and magical gaze.
In a moment, he was numbed by her charisma. Not to say that the girl was the perfection of beauty, rather she had that very natural magnetism about her. Her eyes made him want to forget himself. Lush long eyelashes, thick eyebrows, and a thin, perfectly straight nose. Well-defined cheekbones accentuated all of this. Adam regarded her and seemed not even to be breathing. She was wiping the counter with a damp rag. Her shirt was two buttons undone, and you could see her collarbones playing.
– What's your name? – Adam asked in a whisper.
– Lisa, she said, looking up for a second.
Adam took one big sip of his latte, a little milk spilling onto the counter.
– I'm sorry, Lisa. I put you to work... said Adam jokingly.
– It's okay. I'll clean it up. – Lisa immediately wiped up a few drops that had fallen.
His thoughts were confused, and he didn't understand how to continue the dialog. There were dozens of options in his head, but he chose the most banal one for some reason.
– Have you ever been photographed?
Lisa, in response, only laughed, ringing like the other couple of visitors. The situation was embarrassing and awkward. The unwitting witnesses to the apparent flirtation were hiding their eyes.
– I know who you are...Adam. I've been subscribed to you for a long time. – Lisa said quietly with a smirk. Her lips were a light peach, a rare natural shade.
– And what do you have to say about me? – Trying to hide his surprise, he asked.
– I'll say that everyone knows about you. What you do is beautiful, but not for me. – Wiping the cup proudly, said Lisa.
– I would pay very well
Lisa took that phrase as an insult. So she sharply put the terminal on the counter.
– You didn't pay for the latte, Lisa said casually.
Adam clicked his phone on the terminal as three loud students entered the café. The atmosphere immediately became wildly tense and noisy. Adam realized it was time to leave.
– Text me, he told Lisa as he headed for the exit. But there was no reply. Lisa waved her head from side to side, clearly signaling no answer.
Adam raced home, filled with admiration. He wanted to get there sooner rather than later and try to find her out of his millions of subscribers. On the drive home, a text message arrived on his phone. It was Eva: I'll be there tomorrow. The mood improved even more. Finally, he would see his long-awaited muse and create without prejudice. Her photos were a huge success for the public. She began to receive many advertising offers, but Eva never took the chance. She was not interested in such a life, and a couple of years ago, she disappeared from social networks and stopped posting photos. She was uncompromising and always straightforward. If something went against her philosophy – she cut it off right away. It was her best and worst quality at the same time.
A spirited, Adam sent only a heartfelt reply. Going up to the apartment, the first thing he did was kick off the soft robe. He decided to spend the rest of the day working on today's photos of Robbie, uploading them, and going to bed. After a few hours of processing, there was pressure in his eyes. He got up from his desk and went to get another cup of coffee. His phone lay on the windowsill in airplane mode. Adam was used to turning it on; the background sounds disrupted perseverance. He decided to start searching for Lisa among his subscribers. He didn't know her nickname, didn't know her last name. Adam was horrified, typing in the name Lisa, an endless list of a thousand accounts with that name. He began flipping through each account. A stiff neck made him look at his watch; he had been doing this for over an hour, unnoticed. Robbie's pictures took a back seat; he could have finished them at any moment, but he didn't. He sat looking at Lisa's account all evening and almost all night until he passed out from helplessness.
In the morning, the photographer woke up in mild anxiety. He still hadn't found Lisa. Putting on a soft robe, he wanted to call Eva, but she beat him by literally 10 seconds.
– Hello, darling; Eve's languid, low, and insanely sexy voice sobered Adam instantly.
– Hello, most beautiful woman, he said with a smile.
– Meet me at twelve; I'd like some studio shots. – Eva suggested firmly
– Only in my old studio, I warn you...I haven't been there for a long time. It's not very clean. – Adam shrugged automatically.
– See you later, darling; Eva said goodbye and immediately dropped the call.
It was time to start packing. With Eva, there was no need to come up with plots. Every shoot was productive. Even though Adam didn't like studios, he would do anything for Eve. After an hour of packing, checking equipment...he went to pick out clothes for the first time in a long time. Appearance was important to him today. He put on an expensive white t-shirt with a blue collar and pulled out classic dark blue jeans from the bowels of his closet. Perfuming himself with his favorite cologne, he headed for the exit. It wasn't a long drive, but he wanted to get ahead of Eva, which would at least sweep things up a bit. He hadn't opened the studio in half a year. Rarely he rented it out. Adam drove through the intersection, approaching Lisa's coffee shop. He wanted to stop for coffee, but at the same time, he was afraid of letting Eve down. At the stoplight, looking toward the coffee shop, there was a small hope of seeing Lisa. Maybe she would come out for a second or at least open the door. That didn't happen. Driving through two yellow traffic lights, the day promised to be good. That was his omen. The uneasiness came again on the drive up to the studio; Adam didn't like this place. It was associated with hours of empty, fruitless labor years ago. He had slept there many times, searching for his style in an attempt to shoot something worthwhile.
The creaking door opened, dust hitting his nose. Adam turned on the communal light, threw the bags on the floor, and ran for a broom to clean up at least a little on the pad. A large room with a tiny window and strong acoustics. Every movement in it was booming. Adam cleaned up a bit and started setting up old dusty soft boxes. The clacking of heels started outside and got closer. The heavy, wide stride was recognizable from hundreds of others. Eve opened the door abruptly.
– I'm here! – The echo of her voice filled the room.
Adam looked at her and didn't immediately recognize her. Sure, he realized it was Eve, but something about her had changed drastically. Same hair, exact figure... But something was wrong. He decided not to let it show and smiled as always. She was wearing a tight black dress, very tight. It emphasized all her virtues, her large breasts and wide hips. Her black, coal-black hair glistened with a shade of blue, and her dark red lipstick and brown eyes created the image of a kind of Mistress. Sultry and strict, yet insanely sexy.
– I decided to shoot in a bodysuit; I don't need to change. Eva unzipped her dress from the side. She pulled her arms out and forcefully pulled it down.
She was in a light black colored muslin bodysuit, no bra or panties. Very thin and see-through. Adam tried hard not to stare at her, which would be unprofessional.
– Come on in; everything's ready, the photographer placed a rundown chair in the center.
Eve, wearing black lacquered shoes, sat down in profile.
The photographer began to try on. Her body was beautiful from every angle. Large breasts about a size four held the muslin bodysuit in constant tension. Her light-brown nipples were sharp and hard. They seemed about to tear through the underwear. The slim waist transitioned smoothly into wide hips, and the hips into large and round buttocks. Her calves were thin enough for this type of physique. High heels concealed her size 42 feet. Long fingers and broad palms touched his waist. Adam blended in entirely with the camera. He motioned for her to stand up and slowly approached her. Eve stood confidently and was taller. Adam touched her hair and let some strands out on the left side. Abruptly feeling aroused, he took two steps back. She stood with her legs spread apart in full face, hiding her face in her hair. Her legs were very long and smooth. Her figure was fully revealed. A few extra pounds adorned her, adding to her gauntness. From her flat back, the bodysuit crashed into her neck and barely held up her heavy breasts. Eve opened her thighs, her neatly trimmed pubes showing beneath the thin muslin layer. Adam didn't notice how his favorite erotica had abruptly veered into such a frank direction. Eve smoothly changed positions without prompting. The photographer was sweating from the constant movement. He often rearranged the light, looking for exciting angles; excitement quickly passed, and the work accelerated.
– Let's try by the window, Adam moved his chair to the dirty window. It radiated soft daylight.
Eva nodded and sat down on the chair; the Photographer turned her around in profile and said quietly:
– Take off your shoes, please.
– Why? We haven't done that before, and You could sense the complexity in her quiet, low tone. She very rarely went without heels for that reason.
– Believe me, you have beautiful feet. The pictures will be great. – Adam knew how to persuade at the right moment.
Eva took off her shoes and exposed her ankles. The reason for the complexes was not clear, and anyone could envy her data. The smooth toes were decorated with dark burgundy nail polish, and the foot was long but narrow.
They took a couple of simple shots in front of the window. After them, Eva became even more relaxed. She swung her legs over the ledge on the side of the window. Now they seemed even longer. The last shot was the best shot of the whole shoot.
– Thank you so much, beautiful, Adam said sincerely, flipping through the photos on the camera.
– You're welcome. I'll be honest, and I need the money now. Is there any way we can make a quick buck on these photos? - The conversation turned serious.
– Unless I can pay you right away. You know that this business has no quick money – in a moment, the photographer felt a little sorry for Eva.
– Great, I'll text you the card number later. – Eva was pulling on a tight dress, standing in one shoe. You could see she was in a hurry. Frantically buttoning and flipping her hair. She smelled of some kind of liquor or was it her perfume?
– 'I thought we'd have dinner together tonight... it's been so long since we've seen each other after all,' Adam had already realized that wasn't going to happen.
– I'm sorry, darling. Some other time, I've got a lot to do today. I'll run... – Eva grabbed her bag, ran up to Adam, and gave him a sudden peck on the cheek.
He blushed a little.
– See you later, most beautiful woman! – Shouted through the open door.
Adam realized how much things had changed in the last three years. Though she had aged a little, it hadn't affected her beauty. The only thing that had changed was that Adam felt nothing. Eve no longer touched his heart; the magnetism and lust were gone. All that remained was beauty, but that was more for sexual gratification.
Adam drove what was left of him home in a state of perfect emptiness. As he approached that very intersection, he lost the urge to go in – it was full of people. It was noticeable through the door. For the first time, he noticed the name Craft Café. Adam realized how to find Lisa online.
Arriving home, he threw his bag on the floor and ran to the kitchen for a huge cup of coffee. As he sat on a chair, the phone fell face down to the floor with a clatter. Adam picked it up carefully, the screen covered in cracked cobwebs. He shook off the micro-pieces of glass and logged into subscribers. In the search box, he typed: café Craft. It turned out that it was a whole chain, so he had to search by geolocation. Fifteen minutes later, going through all the photos and trying to find Lisa, a text message from Eva popped up on the screen with her card number. He had no idea how much to pay her and decided to transfer the first three-digit number. The search continued; all the accounts merged, and his concentration dropped, but Adam didn't stop. On the second hour of the search, he changed tactics again and looked for her in the subscriptions at the coffee shop. There was not a single Lisa in them. His patience was running out, so he started deleting one letter at a time from the search bar: Lisa, Liz, Lee...and then the only account with that nickname and a sunflower on the avatar popped up. Adam immediately sensed it was her.
– Hi! Sorry if my question seems weird...are you the Lisa who works as a barista at Craft? It was his first message, and the reply came about 20 minutes later.
– Hi. Yeah, that's me.
Adam lit up with happiness.
– I finally found you!
– Why were you looking for me?
– I wanted to invite you to the shoot.
Lee typed a message... Adam held his breath as he looked at the animation.
– No, I don't do that kind of thing.
– I wouldn't suggest anything "like that." I wanted to invite you to a normal shoot anywhere you'd like.
Adam was starting to get that chronic agitation in his stomach area again.
– In case you haven't noticed, I don't like having my picture taken.
Lisa's account really didn't have any pictures, just pictures of kitties and flowers. This being in the "shadows" was just for the sake of quiet observation.
– I don't offer shoots to everyone; believe me
– While I do not want even just to shoot, I am not photogenic – I felt a slight warming in the dialog.
– I don't want to brag, but I always see potential. I have a lot of experience. Let me take at least a couple of shots.
– I don't want to do that yet, is that all you need?
– No, we can just chat. – replied Adam with a sunflower sticker.
Throughout the evening, they were actively texting about life in general. About work, about hobbies. It turned out that Lisa had been working in a coffee shop for two years, and it was strange that Adam had only noticed her now. She lived the same way her clothes looked - very modest in a rented apartment with a ginger cat, earning pennies for the simplest necessities through grueling labor. Her workday lasted ten to twelve hours. As Adam realized, she had no personal life. With a routine like that, cop-lexes were just a side effect. Lisa was into adventure movies and floristry. According to her, her modest apartment was a botanical garden. The only pity was that she didn't want to meet. Adam didn't want to impose too much, didn't want to scare her off, ruin the impression. He was restrained unnaturally, and it wasn't how he was used to talking to girls. And empty hour-long correspondence was new to him in general.
They talked the next day, too. Even when he was on another shoot, thoughts of the phone in his back pocket constantly haunted the background. Then it became a habit; every day for a month began and ended with texting and voice messages with Lisa. They hadn't met once during that time, and Adam hadn't stopped by the coffee shop. He liked this format – non-committal, no pressure. Lisa consisted of the best qualities. Modest, sweet, hardworking, and uniquely beautiful. We never talked about shooting again. Until one day, she sent her selfies. A simple, crooked photo of her in the kitchen. But how beautiful her face was. It exuded simultaneous passion and tenderness. The green eyes drew all the attention. Adam was happy. Happy with the very fact of being with such a unique yet simple girl. He dreamed about her periodically, lusting after every inch of her body. And one day, he received that long-awaited message:
– Let's meet, take the camera
It was a small victory for Adam. He stayed up all night, thinking of ideas and possible locations. They agreed to meet outside the hotel. The idea was a light shoot in a white shirt and jeans in the lobby.
Adam wore his best: a white shirt with a blue collar and expensive jeans. It was already cold and dreary outside, and the leaves were almost gone. The gray streets washed out all the good inside the average person, but not Adam. Filled with anticipation, he was so hurried that he'd left his keys in the car in the hotel parking lot. With a large black bag, he ran into the lobby.
She stood there exactly as she had the first time he'd seen her on the sidewalk: in a shabby coat and black boots. Her curls were even longer, and her face was excited and dramatic.
– I'm happy to see you! – Adam ran up to her and didn't even notice how he didn't even say hello himself.
– Hi...me too...very much, she smiled so wide, her teeth were perfectly straight.
– Uh...we can go to the couch; I'll take a couple of test shots," he suggested, looking around for better lighting.
Lisa nodded. It was apparent how worried she was. Though the excitement felt good, she was shaken at times. She took off her coat, and she smelled so nice. Her clothes, her body, and her hair smelled like caramel. The pictures on the couch turned out pretty good. The people around her pretended nothing was happening but were sneaking glances. She was perfect. As she concentrated, Adam noticed that her face was smooth and clean. There was no makeup on it at all.
– I have a suggestion, Lisa said quietly, afraid of ruining another shot.
– What is it? – The photographer did not interrupt for a second between the camera clicks.
– Can you take a picture of me in the room? I've seen the beautiful interiors. – her face became embarrassed, and she got a taste for it.
– Sure, I'm all for it...do you want to do it right now? – Adam clarified loudly.
– Yes, Lisa replied with a raised eyebrow.
– Then wait for me here, – the photographer put the camera on the couch and went to the receptionist's desk.
Adam chose one of the deluxe rooms and paid for 2 hours, hiding from the manager's judgmental stare. Taking the key card, he noticed Lisa was no longer on the couch. There was only his camera. He grabbed the camera and the bag next to it. Her coat from the coat rack was gone too. He looked around the room, and she was gone. Then from behind him, he heard:
– I'm here! – Lisa was standing by the elevator, holding her coat.
– I was afraid you'd left... said Adam worriedly.
– You what...I would never do that, and she looked on with great bewilderment.
They smiled at each other and went up to the third floor.
The room was classic, understated except for the outdated candelabra – a square bed in the center of the room decorated with wrought iron monograms. A small champagne-colored couch stood by the window. The room was in beige and white colors. In this setting, in the daylight, Lise's hair shimmered red.
– I need to brush my hair, she motioned toward the bathroom. Adam meekly unpacked his bag again. He looked around the room, searching for the best place to sit. Then it was decided to move the couch even closer to the window. Adam opened the curtains, and the room was bathed in warm light, and the large windows overlooking the parkland were perfectly positioned.
– I'm ready, sounded very quietly from behind him. He turned around and saw a completely naked Lisa. From mutual embarrassment, they started laughing loudly and couldn't stop.
– It's been a long time since I've been so surprised, Adam said through his laughter, Why did you suddenly decide to get naked?
– I decided to beat my complexes, Lisa giggled.
Both stood awkwardly laughing. Adam blushed and averted his embarrassed gaze.
– Come sit on the couch; let's try it out
Lisa sat down sideways. Through her clothes, her thinness wasn't as noticeable. Her ribs really stood out, as did her spine. Sharp shoulders, thin collarbones...Her thinness was not painful, more like a ballet figure. Her hands disappeared into the thickness of her luxurious hair, and she lifted them, arching her back. Her toes fidgeted and clenched. Adam could see the slight shaking.
– Relax, we're not working, just relaxing. – He said.
Lisa swayed from side to side, shifting her feet.
– Don't look down; look at the camera – Adam was crazy about the color of her eyes.
Green, deep, they were addictive. Wanted to shoot more and more.
She stood up from the couch, two hands lifting the roots of her hair, crossing her legs. All her beauty lay bare before the viewer. Playful collarbones glistened in the light, and her breasts were tender, about a size three. The peachy nipples were not expressive, making her breasts seem more round. A shadow fell across her slightly sunken belly and went over her pubes. There wasn't a single hair on Lisa's body. Her swarthy face, thick eyebrows, and eyelashes painted a slightly exotic image. How much she had changed in this apartment. It was as if she had always been here. Adam decided to take one last portrait, he moved closer, and the smell of caramel hit his nose. Such a properly shaped face was easy to work with; the clean lines set the overall symmetry. Lisa put her hand on Adam's shoulder. He pretended not to notice it. Then she lowered the camera, pushing it down with her fingers. They looked into each other's eyes; Adam couldn't stand it and kissed her passionately. It was mutual. Passion, crush, lust – the concentration of these feelings poured into a long kiss. Her lips were sugary, similar to feelings the photographer had experienced only in his youth. Too bad this moment was so short. Lisa stood up carefully.
– Thank you for the photo shoot, she said coquettishly and went into the bathtub. Adam sat red and confused. He could hear through the door how she was getting ready. He wished he could burst in on her...but he'd never dare. He wasn't that classic hero-lover. And he'd always been convinced that such behavior hurt professionalism.
Lisa came out fully dressed, even throwing her coat on top. Her curls were again tied in a tight ponytail.
– Well? Shall we go? – Lisa asked with a smirk.
Adam scratched his eyebrow, picked up his bag, and walked toward the exit. A yellow cab was already parked outside.
– I called an Uber for myself
– I'll walk her out, Adam opened the car door for her. He didn't understand why she'd called a car. He was ready to take her anywhere in the city.
Lisa stood by the door and held out her thin arms. They hugged so tightly that the seams on the photographer's jacket made a small cracking sound. She scratched the back of his head a little with her long fingernails.
– I'll write you back today; thanks for everything. I had a wonderful time. – Lisa broke out into a smile again.
– 'Thank you so much; I'll text tonight. – Adam said goodbye, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair. Just like that, she left.
At home, Adam tossed his bag into the corner of the room and, putting on his annoying robe again, simultaneously began to process today's photos. He savored her charisma, so visceral and sensual. Her body didn't even need to be photoshopped; for him, it was perfect. Until late in the evening, he went through the photos one by one and dumped them all to her when the job was done.
– Can I put your pictures up? – Adam texted close to midnight.
– Yes, but only one; Lisa left sunflower emoticons everywhere.
Adam did just that. Hundreds of comments from delighted viewers. Thousands of likes and reposts. They were happy to see a new, atypical face. The photographer was very tired. Both physically and emotionally, he was exhausted. That's why he collapsed to sleep right in his hated robe and glasses.
In the morning, Adam woke up, and the robe was on the floor. He picked it up, carried it to the kitchen, and threw it in the trash. Finally, he felt free. All the jammed routine had been thrown away along with the robe, and the irritation was gone. Breathing was easier. His cell phone lay nearby, practically dead. Adam put it on charge and went into the kitchen; today, for the first time, he felt like having tea. The phone charged up, he went into the messages and, to his surprise, found no dialog box with Lisa. He couldn't access her page either, and he couldn't call her. Adam realized that she had blocked him. But why? Why was she doing this to him? Maybe he'd said something wrong? Behaved unculturally? He couldn't come up with a single convincing answer. There were still a lot of pictures of her on the flash drive. Adam considered posting them all in a fit of mild aggression. But it subsided smoothly after a couple of sips of tea. She'd only asked him to post one, he thought confusedly.
The next few days were difficult; he thought of her constantly. It was decided to stop by the coffee shop and find out what the reason was for such a low act on her part. Adam made it there in his home clothes in less than ten minutes. He saw a young guy behind the counter when he opened the door. The new barista had no idea who Lisa was. It was his second day working at this establishment, and he knew no one. Adam didn't even know her last name or at least the neighborhood where she lived.
After a week of self-abuse, the search efforts stopped. A couple of months later, a new wave of creativity swept over him. Stories and ideas were born nonstop. New faces found him. Success became even more, as well as earnings. There was no time to think about personal tragedies, and life was always moving forward. He had time for nostalgia only at night before going to bed. Usually, Adam spent this time watching mindless videos to chase away dark thoughts. Suddenly, after one of the videos, he saw Lisa in an automated commercial. It was a perfume commercial. The girl looked even better than before. Her hair was longer, and her haphazard curls were more coiffed. The commercial lasted 15 seconds. She was in a chiffon mauve sundress twirling against an expensive chromakey backdrop. Adam was so taken aback that he didn't even take a screenshot. It was hard to describe the emotion he was feeling. It was a mixture of elation and inner aggression. Flipping through a few more videos, he hoped to see the commercial again.
A couple of days later, while filming a new standard blonde in a huge dark apartment, the phone in his back pocket vibrated. It was a text from an unknown number:
"Call you on Tuesday. Lisa."
Adam was confused and didn't immediately realize it was the same Lisa. After a couple of seconds, he even laughed a little audibly. Putting his phone in his pocket, he continued to take pictures.
It seemed to him that the room had a slight smell of caramel.
He'd first seen her about a year ago. Standing on the street in a worn coat and black boots. A short, thin brunette with perfect cheekbones and natural curls. He only saw her and didn't get a good look at her face. She was probably looking to buy something. She was counting money in her little palm and doing it very clumsy and childishly. The second time it happened was in the summer. She was in a beige linen dress, with a bunch of bags in her hands, running across the road in the city center at the last second of a green traffic light. She ran so fast that she tripped over the curb on the other side. It looked like she had hurt her leg. She didn't even cry out; it was like the sound little kittens make – a quiet second squeak. She limped away and dragged herself along.
It was curious what kind of analysis a man in a car waiting for a yellow traffic light could make. It wasn't a game or entertainment for him, rather everything happened automatically. In recent months, the routine had finally taken its toll on him. Boring monotony and frequent irritation were already familiar conditions. When you wake up..., you put on your soft robe, your machine goes to make coffee, and everything is quiet and calm around you. You take the first sip and ask yourself: what am I doing here? It happens to everyone. I don't mean to be filled with drama, but it becomes a tragedy when you're an artist. Status is a heavy burden, constantly demanding validation and approval. Adam was a middle-aged man. Having become a famous photographer, he repeatedly confirmed his talent in front of huge audiences, considering it his responsibility. He was not a man of demanding behavior except to himself. His once-red hair was already interrupted by gray, and a week's worth of unshaven was not at all uncomfortable. Adam's nature was deep; he didn't like superficial women. He didn't like artificial breasts or empty eyes. It has been increasingly difficult to find a model of natural and graceful outlines in recent times. Marketing has disfigured millions of women. Fashion and outer beauty trends began to scare him lately. And how quickly and easily this poison seeped from the internet into the real world. Finding models was getting harder and harder. Every day hundreds of messages came to direct with pleas and requests for shoots. Sorting through the mail took an average of 2 hours a day. The photos I looked at made me lose focus. All the faces seemed typical, bland, and sometimes completely tasteless. Decades of creative career pressed on my chest, and long shoots gave me puffiness. And after an active day: hours of retouching, searching for new ideas, and an annoying soft robe.
Adam waited for Eve to arrive. Formerly his favorite model. Black-haired, sultry with a hard stare and wide hips. He'd always disliked vulgarity, and Eva was always on the edge. That was what mystical magnetism was. Like an expensive wine, she was tart. She knew her own price and always won any argument. Their shoots were always only on her terms: date, duration, idea, and amount. Everything as she wished. Adam never argued with her; he liked to give in to her coquettishly, liked the way her dark eyebrows and the corners of her lips lifted. Loved feeling like he was the one who could give her even a couple of hours of joy. Maybe he had a little bit of genuine feeling for her, but he'd never been able to admit it, even to himself. They didn't see each other for three years but corresponded periodically. Her move to Italy undermined his creative potency for a couple of months. The stagnation was excruciating. He spent most of his time on set, searching for new stories online. For him, it was a creative low. After two months came a period of rehabilitation, her face was gradually erased from his obsessive thoughts, shrouded in a light haze, and ceased to radiate the brightness that shocked him years ago. As time passed, other, new, and very different faces appeared. They brought inspiration and new ideas; life became as before, in some places, even better. Despite this, after a text from Eva yesterday:
I'll be there on Monday; something trembled in the stomach area.
Sunday morning, Adam slept in for the first time in a long time. In his gut, he sensed that he had slept for a long time. The old Rolex was always on; he only took it off when he gave it in for repair, and that was only once. Lying on his stomach, he pulled his hand out from under the pillow and couldn't make out the numbers...without his glasses, he could barely see, and they were lost in the tangle of the perpetually tangled blanket. He sat on the bed, leaning forward. At his feet lay the hated soft robe. Adam sighed heavily, stood up, and through sheer force, threw it on. There was a pressure comparable to weighted weights, but the habit was sacred. That's what people call it – stability. Rubbing out the blanket, glasses with scratched lenses clattered to the laminate floor. As soon as his vision returned, Adam realized he was twenty minutes late, followed by another heavy sigh. Walking along the long but narrow room, the picture of tonight's shoot was already building in his mind.
A huge box stood in the corner and was crammed with lenses so that pulling one out would drop all the others. Adam selected the right one and shoved it into a large black bag. 'Good thing today isn't a studio shoot,' ran through his mind. He disliked studios more than anything else. There wasn't much life itself in studio photography. Primarily, the staging looked deliberate and not natural. The fixation on backgrounds had long been primitive. Today he shot in a rented apartment with natural light. By this time, the model had already written three messages but meekly didn't call for fear of waking him up. Pouring coffee into a thermos, Adam pulled on the first of the t-shirts thrown on the chair, and there were usually about 8 of them. Shabby jeans hung on a hook in the bathroom. Somehow, he pulled himself together, fell behind the wheel of his red Alfa Romeo spider soft top, and slowly drove forward.
The city was ready to welcome the fall, and dry leaves were already lying somewhere; the smell of rain was thick. The roads were dusty and empty. On weekends only, the center was pandemonium, Adam didn't digest crowds, oxygen was always in short supply, and the idle chatter was perceived as white noise.
It wasn't a few seconds short of running a yellow traffic light. There were hardly any people at the intersection. Only a couple of students were laughing down the street, and She. Again, this attractive girl caught his eye out of the blue. This time her hair was tightly gathered into a bundle; her green peasant-style dress was blown about by the wind and had a permanently raised hem. Lacy soft ballet flats emphasized her thin ankle. She had her headphones on, and just like last time, she wasn't looking around at all. The time at the traffic light was running out 3...2...1. A yellow bus had already thrown a short honk in the back. And this time again, Adam didn't have time to see her face. Slowly inching forward, he saw her entering a small coffee shop through the rearview mirror.
The phone began to ring. The model's patience had run out. Adam decided not to call back, and it was still about 3 minutes away. Turning into the courtyard, he opened the navigator, even though he had already arrived at the address. The yard was a portal to another dimension: dark and creepy, the kind often seen in horror movies. He always rented apartments by photo, so these situations happened often, but he couldn't influence them. Adam only got the driveway number wrong. Driving a little farther, he saw one of his favorite models. She was sitting on a high concrete parapet with her legs wiggling flirtatiously. Robbie was what he called her because of her obvious resemblance to Margot Robbie. A sweet, blonde angel with a snub nose and a natural blush. Such a type was always sought after by audiences. Her beauty was graceful, and her eyes were gray and empty, like a child's. And although this appearance did not correspond to Robbie's inner state, it gave the right effect in the photo.
Her face lit up and spread into a sweet, childlike smile as soon as she saw Adam.
– 'I'm sorry, Robbie...to be honest, I just overslept, Adam shrugged guiltily and said quietly.
– I'm not offended at all; I'm glad you came; her gray eyes played in the sunlight and seemed almost white, "let's go quickly," Robbie said sweetly, jumping down from the parapet.
The apartment was on the third floor. The interior didn't bother Adam; the shoot was planned in front of a large window against the light. As soon as they walked in, preparations began. Adam was taking all the equipment out of his bag, trying it on. Due to the white walls, the room was overflowing with light. Robbie quickly went into the bath, traditionally powdered herself almost transparently. It wasn't their first time together; her every move was an arrangement. And even though Adam wasn't too hard on models, she didn't want to disappoint him. Robbie brushed her white hair and spritzed it with a very little bit of hairspray. She tinted her blonde eyelashes and removed her earrings and watch. Adam knocked on the door.
– Will you be here soon? – He asked quietly.
– Yes, in a minute
Then the door opened a little, and a very short, translucent dress on a thin wire trimmer appeared.
– That's for today, Adam said, waving the dress in the air.
He often bought clothes for his subjects. Over the years, he had accumulated a decent closet of women, which he skillfully combined with the models.
Robbie walked out into the main room with the large window. The thin beige dress was loose on her slim figure, emphasizing her thinness even more. Adam immediately grabbed the camera and looked only through it. The image of the home girl was alluring and arousing. In the natural light, her skin glowed, and her eyes turned snow-white. She resembled a mythical nymph. Robbie stood in profile against the window. Her soft pink nipples swelled with the touch of her dress and the slight draft. Puffy lips with a snub nose added to the cartoonish of her appearance. They didn't need to talk. She was a professional and knew her winning angles. Adam tried on the lights passionately. She played with her hands, gently touching her face and her narrow hips. Despite being naturally slender or even skinny, her buttocks were very juicy and rounded. The sag in her lower back only emphasized her youthful sexuality. Until an hour ago, her blush was barely visible, the color of a ripe peach. By the end of the shoot, her cheeks were scarlet from physical exertion. Slender fingers with short almond nails twitched, amused as she touched her body. Standing barefoot on the cool floor, her toes turned pink. With each shot, Robbie held her breath and anticipated the sweep of Adam's hand. With that gesture, he usually ended the entire shoot. Finally, he did. Robbie's neck and back were stiff, and her feet were finally cold.
– Everything's good today, he whispered as he reviewed the photo on the camera.
Robbie smiled and silently went to change in the bathroom. While Adam was gathering all the appliances, a completely different person walked into the room. Not even a hint of the blond angel was left. Heavy dark arrows and chocolate lipstick had knocked all of Robbie's angelic spunk off. This was what she looked like in real life. The short black dress slimmed and elongated her legs even more. She pulled out her stiletto sandals from her bag and, bouncing on one foot, tried to put them on quickly. She was very fond of such images and brightness and didn't realize how she was ruining herself. Hiding her beauty and exposing her nature. Surprisingly, she took great pleasure in it.
– Shall we settle up one of these days? – Robbie asked, out of breath.
– Sure, whatever suits you. I'll text you. – Zipping up his bag, Adam said.
Robbie walked over and kissed Adam gently on the cheek with the corner of her lips, it was their ritual. Their sympathy was sincere, but it was also highly workmanlike. It was simple and easy, with no fiddling or arguing. Everyone got what they wanted.
– Do you need a ride? – Adam asked, opening the car door.
– No, they've already come for me...around the corner, I'll run. I'll see you later. – she stormed out of the driveway and ran across the yard, loudly clicking her heels.
Adam dropped into his car and drove out to the other side to not embarrass Robbie and her next beau. Turning around, he couldn't understand how such a sweet girl was wasting her life in such a strange way. A glimpse of himself in a similar context, and he abruptly decided to put those thoughts to death before they had time to make him nervous.
Driving in the opposite direction, Adam remembered the morning and glanced at the small roadside coffee shop where That Girl had stopped by this morning. With a sharp tap on the brakes and the edge of his ear hearing a couple of swear words from the back, he pulled up right in front of it. Adam carefully opened the door with an annoying bell.
The interior of the café looked very cheap and simple. In gray and wiped-white, a bar counter consumed almost the entire area. Two small, skewed, slightly rundown tables stood in the corners, and three tall bar stools at the counter. It was very stuffy in the coffee shop. There was no air conditioning, and a small hanging fan dispersed the hot air only slightly. Behind the bar was She. Standing with her back to the main entrance, she was whipping milk into cappuccino foam. There were a couple of people in the coffee shop. Adam recognized her hair and thin, sharp shoulders. He sat in the chair across from her and quietly watched as she quickly made several cups of coffee. Her morning bundle on her head was practically falling apart, her brown curly locks falling down her unbuttoned shirt. The barista's uniform was chewed up with old stains. She turned sharply to face the man at the table and shouted: Your Cappuccino. Adam saw her profile and bright green eyes. They were so green, not typical. Perfectly sharp cheekbones drew a clear line across her face.
– Can I have a latte? – Adam asked quietly.
To which the beauty only nodded. Her nimble fingers are set to work. The rolled-up sleeves were constantly falling down and had to be pulled up, exposing her swarthy, thin wrists. Long fingernails tapped on the coffee machine and cups. She was foaming milk, and the third of her face that Adam could see was focused. Her eyebrows were lowered, and the hairs of her bangs were falling into her eyes. She was blowing them away very nicely.
– Your Latte, she turned her face completely around and scalded Adam with a deep and magical gaze.
In a moment, he was numbed by her charisma. Not to say that the girl was the perfection of beauty, rather she had that very natural magnetism about her. Her eyes made him want to forget himself. Lush long eyelashes, thick eyebrows, and a thin, perfectly straight nose. Well-defined cheekbones accentuated all of this. Adam regarded her and seemed not even to be breathing. She was wiping the counter with a damp rag. Her shirt was two buttons undone, and you could see her collarbones playing.
– What's your name? – Adam asked in a whisper.
– Lisa, she said, looking up for a second.
Adam took one big sip of his latte, a little milk spilling onto the counter.
– I'm sorry, Lisa. I put you to work... said Adam jokingly.
– It's okay. I'll clean it up. – Lisa immediately wiped up a few drops that had fallen.
His thoughts were confused, and he didn't understand how to continue the dialog. There were dozens of options in his head, but he chose the most banal one for some reason.
– Have you ever been photographed?
Lisa, in response, only laughed, ringing like the other couple of visitors. The situation was embarrassing and awkward. The unwitting witnesses to the apparent flirtation were hiding their eyes.
– I know who you are...Adam. I've been subscribed to you for a long time. – Lisa said quietly with a smirk. Her lips were a light peach, a rare natural shade.
– And what do you have to say about me? – Trying to hide his surprise, he asked.
– I'll say that everyone knows about you. What you do is beautiful, but not for me. – Wiping the cup proudly, said Lisa.
– I would pay very well
Lisa took that phrase as an insult. So she sharply put the terminal on the counter.
– You didn't pay for the latte, Lisa said casually.
Adam clicked his phone on the terminal as three loud students entered the café. The atmosphere immediately became wildly tense and noisy. Adam realized it was time to leave.
– Text me, he told Lisa as he headed for the exit. But there was no reply. Lisa waved her head from side to side, clearly signaling no answer.
Adam raced home, filled with admiration. He wanted to get there sooner rather than later and try to find her out of his millions of subscribers. On the drive home, a text message arrived on his phone. It was Eva: I'll be there tomorrow. The mood improved even more. Finally, he would see his long-awaited muse and create without prejudice. Her photos were a huge success for the public. She began to receive many advertising offers, but Eva never took the chance. She was not interested in such a life, and a couple of years ago, she disappeared from social networks and stopped posting photos. She was uncompromising and always straightforward. If something went against her philosophy – she cut it off right away. It was her best and worst quality at the same time.
A spirited, Adam sent only a heartfelt reply. Going up to the apartment, the first thing he did was kick off the soft robe. He decided to spend the rest of the day working on today's photos of Robbie, uploading them, and going to bed. After a few hours of processing, there was pressure in his eyes. He got up from his desk and went to get another cup of coffee. His phone lay on the windowsill in airplane mode. Adam was used to turning it on; the background sounds disrupted perseverance. He decided to start searching for Lisa among his subscribers. He didn't know her nickname, didn't know her last name. Adam was horrified, typing in the name Lisa, an endless list of a thousand accounts with that name. He began flipping through each account. A stiff neck made him look at his watch; he had been doing this for over an hour, unnoticed. Robbie's pictures took a back seat; he could have finished them at any moment, but he didn't. He sat looking at Lisa's account all evening and almost all night until he passed out from helplessness.
In the morning, the photographer woke up in mild anxiety. He still hadn't found Lisa. Putting on a soft robe, he wanted to call Eva, but she beat him by literally 10 seconds.
– Hello, darling; Eve's languid, low, and insanely sexy voice sobered Adam instantly.
– Hello, most beautiful woman, he said with a smile.
– Meet me at twelve; I'd like some studio shots. – Eva suggested firmly
– Only in my old studio, I warn you...I haven't been there for a long time. It's not very clean. – Adam shrugged automatically.
– See you later, darling; Eva said goodbye and immediately dropped the call.
It was time to start packing. With Eva, there was no need to come up with plots. Every shoot was productive. Even though Adam didn't like studios, he would do anything for Eve. After an hour of packing, checking equipment...he went to pick out clothes for the first time in a long time. Appearance was important to him today. He put on an expensive white t-shirt with a blue collar and pulled out classic dark blue jeans from the bowels of his closet. Perfuming himself with his favorite cologne, he headed for the exit. It wasn't a long drive, but he wanted to get ahead of Eva, which would at least sweep things up a bit. He hadn't opened the studio in half a year. Rarely he rented it out. Adam drove through the intersection, approaching Lisa's coffee shop. He wanted to stop for coffee, but at the same time, he was afraid of letting Eve down. At the stoplight, looking toward the coffee shop, there was a small hope of seeing Lisa. Maybe she would come out for a second or at least open the door. That didn't happen. Driving through two yellow traffic lights, the day promised to be good. That was his omen. The uneasiness came again on the drive up to the studio; Adam didn't like this place. It was associated with hours of empty, fruitless labor years ago. He had slept there many times, searching for his style in an attempt to shoot something worthwhile.
The creaking door opened, dust hitting his nose. Adam turned on the communal light, threw the bags on the floor, and ran for a broom to clean up at least a little on the pad. A large room with a tiny window and strong acoustics. Every movement in it was booming. Adam cleaned up a bit and started setting up old dusty soft boxes. The clacking of heels started outside and got closer. The heavy, wide stride was recognizable from hundreds of others. Eve opened the door abruptly.
– I'm here! – The echo of her voice filled the room.
Adam looked at her and didn't immediately recognize her. Sure, he realized it was Eve, but something about her had changed drastically. Same hair, exact figure... But something was wrong. He decided not to let it show and smiled as always. She was wearing a tight black dress, very tight. It emphasized all her virtues, her large breasts and wide hips. Her black, coal-black hair glistened with a shade of blue, and her dark red lipstick and brown eyes created the image of a kind of Mistress. Sultry and strict, yet insanely sexy.
– I decided to shoot in a bodysuit; I don't need to change. Eva unzipped her dress from the side. She pulled her arms out and forcefully pulled it down.
She was in a light black colored muslin bodysuit, no bra or panties. Very thin and see-through. Adam tried hard not to stare at her, which would be unprofessional.
– Come on in; everything's ready, the photographer placed a rundown chair in the center.
Eve, wearing black lacquered shoes, sat down in profile.
The photographer began to try on. Her body was beautiful from every angle. Large breasts about a size four held the muslin bodysuit in constant tension. Her light-brown nipples were sharp and hard. They seemed about to tear through the underwear. The slim waist transitioned smoothly into wide hips, and the hips into large and round buttocks. Her calves were thin enough for this type of physique. High heels concealed her size 42 feet. Long fingers and broad palms touched his waist. Adam blended in entirely with the camera. He motioned for her to stand up and slowly approached her. Eve stood confidently and was taller. Adam touched her hair and let some strands out on the left side. Abruptly feeling aroused, he took two steps back. She stood with her legs spread apart in full face, hiding her face in her hair. Her legs were very long and smooth. Her figure was fully revealed. A few extra pounds adorned her, adding to her gauntness. From her flat back, the bodysuit crashed into her neck and barely held up her heavy breasts. Eve opened her thighs, her neatly trimmed pubes showing beneath the thin muslin layer. Adam didn't notice how his favorite erotica had abruptly veered into such a frank direction. Eve smoothly changed positions without prompting. The photographer was sweating from the constant movement. He often rearranged the light, looking for exciting angles; excitement quickly passed, and the work accelerated.
– Let's try by the window, Adam moved his chair to the dirty window. It radiated soft daylight.
Eva nodded and sat down on the chair; the Photographer turned her around in profile and said quietly:
– Take off your shoes, please.
– Why? We haven't done that before, and You could sense the complexity in her quiet, low tone. She very rarely went without heels for that reason.
– Believe me, you have beautiful feet. The pictures will be great. – Adam knew how to persuade at the right moment.
Eva took off her shoes and exposed her ankles. The reason for the complexes was not clear, and anyone could envy her data. The smooth toes were decorated with dark burgundy nail polish, and the foot was long but narrow.
They took a couple of simple shots in front of the window. After them, Eva became even more relaxed. She swung her legs over the ledge on the side of the window. Now they seemed even longer. The last shot was the best shot of the whole shoot.
– Thank you so much, beautiful, Adam said sincerely, flipping through the photos on the camera.
– You're welcome. I'll be honest, and I need the money now. Is there any way we can make a quick buck on these photos? - The conversation turned serious.
– Unless I can pay you right away. You know that this business has no quick money – in a moment, the photographer felt a little sorry for Eva.
– Great, I'll text you the card number later. – Eva was pulling on a tight dress, standing in one shoe. You could see she was in a hurry. Frantically buttoning and flipping her hair. She smelled of some kind of liquor or was it her perfume?
– 'I thought we'd have dinner together tonight... it's been so long since we've seen each other after all,' Adam had already realized that wasn't going to happen.
– I'm sorry, darling. Some other time, I've got a lot to do today. I'll run... – Eva grabbed her bag, ran up to Adam, and gave him a sudden peck on the cheek.
He blushed a little.
– See you later, most beautiful woman! – Shouted through the open door.
Adam realized how much things had changed in the last three years. Though she had aged a little, it hadn't affected her beauty. The only thing that had changed was that Adam felt nothing. Eve no longer touched his heart; the magnetism and lust were gone. All that remained was beauty, but that was more for sexual gratification.
Adam drove what was left of him home in a state of perfect emptiness. As he approached that very intersection, he lost the urge to go in – it was full of people. It was noticeable through the door. For the first time, he noticed the name Craft Café. Adam realized how to find Lisa online.
Arriving home, he threw his bag on the floor and ran to the kitchen for a huge cup of coffee. As he sat on a chair, the phone fell face down to the floor with a clatter. Adam picked it up carefully, the screen covered in cracked cobwebs. He shook off the micro-pieces of glass and logged into subscribers. In the search box, he typed: café Craft. It turned out that it was a whole chain, so he had to search by geolocation. Fifteen minutes later, going through all the photos and trying to find Lisa, a text message from Eva popped up on the screen with her card number. He had no idea how much to pay her and decided to transfer the first three-digit number. The search continued; all the accounts merged, and his concentration dropped, but Adam didn't stop. On the second hour of the search, he changed tactics again and looked for her in the subscriptions at the coffee shop. There was not a single Lisa in them. His patience was running out, so he started deleting one letter at a time from the search bar: Lisa, Liz, Lee...and then the only account with that nickname and a sunflower on the avatar popped up. Adam immediately sensed it was her.
– Hi! Sorry if my question seems weird...are you the Lisa who works as a barista at Craft? It was his first message, and the reply came about 20 minutes later.
– Hi. Yeah, that's me.
Adam lit up with happiness.
– I finally found you!
– Why were you looking for me?
– I wanted to invite you to the shoot.
Lee typed a message... Adam held his breath as he looked at the animation.
– No, I don't do that kind of thing.
– I wouldn't suggest anything "like that." I wanted to invite you to a normal shoot anywhere you'd like.
Adam was starting to get that chronic agitation in his stomach area again.
– In case you haven't noticed, I don't like having my picture taken.
Lisa's account really didn't have any pictures, just pictures of kitties and flowers. This being in the "shadows" was just for the sake of quiet observation.
– I don't offer shoots to everyone; believe me
– While I do not want even just to shoot, I am not photogenic – I felt a slight warming in the dialog.
– I don't want to brag, but I always see potential. I have a lot of experience. Let me take at least a couple of shots.
– I don't want to do that yet, is that all you need?
– No, we can just chat. – replied Adam with a sunflower sticker.
Throughout the evening, they were actively texting about life in general. About work, about hobbies. It turned out that Lisa had been working in a coffee shop for two years, and it was strange that Adam had only noticed her now. She lived the same way her clothes looked - very modest in a rented apartment with a ginger cat, earning pennies for the simplest necessities through grueling labor. Her workday lasted ten to twelve hours. As Adam realized, she had no personal life. With a routine like that, cop-lexes were just a side effect. Lisa was into adventure movies and floristry. According to her, her modest apartment was a botanical garden. The only pity was that she didn't want to meet. Adam didn't want to impose too much, didn't want to scare her off, ruin the impression. He was restrained unnaturally, and it wasn't how he was used to talking to girls. And empty hour-long correspondence was new to him in general.
They talked the next day, too. Even when he was on another shoot, thoughts of the phone in his back pocket constantly haunted the background. Then it became a habit; every day for a month began and ended with texting and voice messages with Lisa. They hadn't met once during that time, and Adam hadn't stopped by the coffee shop. He liked this format – non-committal, no pressure. Lisa consisted of the best qualities. Modest, sweet, hardworking, and uniquely beautiful. We never talked about shooting again. Until one day, she sent her selfies. A simple, crooked photo of her in the kitchen. But how beautiful her face was. It exuded simultaneous passion and tenderness. The green eyes drew all the attention. Adam was happy. Happy with the very fact of being with such a unique yet simple girl. He dreamed about her periodically, lusting after every inch of her body. And one day, he received that long-awaited message:
– Let's meet, take the camera
It was a small victory for Adam. He stayed up all night, thinking of ideas and possible locations. They agreed to meet outside the hotel. The idea was a light shoot in a white shirt and jeans in the lobby.
Adam wore his best: a white shirt with a blue collar and expensive jeans. It was already cold and dreary outside, and the leaves were almost gone. The gray streets washed out all the good inside the average person, but not Adam. Filled with anticipation, he was so hurried that he'd left his keys in the car in the hotel parking lot. With a large black bag, he ran into the lobby.
She stood there exactly as she had the first time he'd seen her on the sidewalk: in a shabby coat and black boots. Her curls were even longer, and her face was excited and dramatic.
– I'm happy to see you! – Adam ran up to her and didn't even notice how he didn't even say hello himself.
– Hi...me too...very much, she smiled so wide, her teeth were perfectly straight.
– Uh...we can go to the couch; I'll take a couple of test shots," he suggested, looking around for better lighting.
Lisa nodded. It was apparent how worried she was. Though the excitement felt good, she was shaken at times. She took off her coat, and she smelled so nice. Her clothes, her body, and her hair smelled like caramel. The pictures on the couch turned out pretty good. The people around her pretended nothing was happening but were sneaking glances. She was perfect. As she concentrated, Adam noticed that her face was smooth and clean. There was no makeup on it at all.
– I have a suggestion, Lisa said quietly, afraid of ruining another shot.
– What is it? – The photographer did not interrupt for a second between the camera clicks.
– Can you take a picture of me in the room? I've seen the beautiful interiors. – her face became embarrassed, and she got a taste for it.
– Sure, I'm all for it...do you want to do it right now? – Adam clarified loudly.
– Yes, Lisa replied with a raised eyebrow.
– Then wait for me here, – the photographer put the camera on the couch and went to the receptionist's desk.
Adam chose one of the deluxe rooms and paid for 2 hours, hiding from the manager's judgmental stare. Taking the key card, he noticed Lisa was no longer on the couch. There was only his camera. He grabbed the camera and the bag next to it. Her coat from the coat rack was gone too. He looked around the room, and she was gone. Then from behind him, he heard:
– I'm here! – Lisa was standing by the elevator, holding her coat.
– I was afraid you'd left... said Adam worriedly.
– You what...I would never do that, and she looked on with great bewilderment.
They smiled at each other and went up to the third floor.
The room was classic, understated except for the outdated candelabra – a square bed in the center of the room decorated with wrought iron monograms. A small champagne-colored couch stood by the window. The room was in beige and white colors. In this setting, in the daylight, Lise's hair shimmered red.
– I need to brush my hair, she motioned toward the bathroom. Adam meekly unpacked his bag again. He looked around the room, searching for the best place to sit. Then it was decided to move the couch even closer to the window. Adam opened the curtains, and the room was bathed in warm light, and the large windows overlooking the parkland were perfectly positioned.
– I'm ready, sounded very quietly from behind him. He turned around and saw a completely naked Lisa. From mutual embarrassment, they started laughing loudly and couldn't stop.
– It's been a long time since I've been so surprised, Adam said through his laughter, Why did you suddenly decide to get naked?
– I decided to beat my complexes, Lisa giggled.
Both stood awkwardly laughing. Adam blushed and averted his embarrassed gaze.
– Come sit on the couch; let's try it out
Lisa sat down sideways. Through her clothes, her thinness wasn't as noticeable. Her ribs really stood out, as did her spine. Sharp shoulders, thin collarbones...Her thinness was not painful, more like a ballet figure. Her hands disappeared into the thickness of her luxurious hair, and she lifted them, arching her back. Her toes fidgeted and clenched. Adam could see the slight shaking.
– Relax, we're not working, just relaxing. – He said.
Lisa swayed from side to side, shifting her feet.
– Don't look down; look at the camera – Adam was crazy about the color of her eyes.
Green, deep, they were addictive. Wanted to shoot more and more.
She stood up from the couch, two hands lifting the roots of her hair, crossing her legs. All her beauty lay bare before the viewer. Playful collarbones glistened in the light, and her breasts were tender, about a size three. The peachy nipples were not expressive, making her breasts seem more round. A shadow fell across her slightly sunken belly and went over her pubes. There wasn't a single hair on Lisa's body. Her swarthy face, thick eyebrows, and eyelashes painted a slightly exotic image. How much she had changed in this apartment. It was as if she had always been here. Adam decided to take one last portrait, he moved closer, and the smell of caramel hit his nose. Such a properly shaped face was easy to work with; the clean lines set the overall symmetry. Lisa put her hand on Adam's shoulder. He pretended not to notice it. Then she lowered the camera, pushing it down with her fingers. They looked into each other's eyes; Adam couldn't stand it and kissed her passionately. It was mutual. Passion, crush, lust – the concentration of these feelings poured into a long kiss. Her lips were sugary, similar to feelings the photographer had experienced only in his youth. Too bad this moment was so short. Lisa stood up carefully.
– Thank you for the photo shoot, she said coquettishly and went into the bathtub. Adam sat red and confused. He could hear through the door how she was getting ready. He wished he could burst in on her...but he'd never dare. He wasn't that classic hero-lover. And he'd always been convinced that such behavior hurt professionalism.
Lisa came out fully dressed, even throwing her coat on top. Her curls were again tied in a tight ponytail.
– Well? Shall we go? – Lisa asked with a smirk.
Adam scratched his eyebrow, picked up his bag, and walked toward the exit. A yellow cab was already parked outside.
– I called an Uber for myself
– I'll walk her out, Adam opened the car door for her. He didn't understand why she'd called a car. He was ready to take her anywhere in the city.
Lisa stood by the door and held out her thin arms. They hugged so tightly that the seams on the photographer's jacket made a small cracking sound. She scratched the back of his head a little with her long fingernails.
– I'll write you back today; thanks for everything. I had a wonderful time. – Lisa broke out into a smile again.
– 'Thank you so much; I'll text tonight. – Adam said goodbye, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair. Just like that, she left.
At home, Adam tossed his bag into the corner of the room and, putting on his annoying robe again, simultaneously began to process today's photos. He savored her charisma, so visceral and sensual. Her body didn't even need to be photoshopped; for him, it was perfect. Until late in the evening, he went through the photos one by one and dumped them all to her when the job was done.
– Can I put your pictures up? – Adam texted close to midnight.
– Yes, but only one; Lisa left sunflower emoticons everywhere.
Adam did just that. Hundreds of comments from delighted viewers. Thousands of likes and reposts. They were happy to see a new, atypical face. The photographer was very tired. Both physically and emotionally, he was exhausted. That's why he collapsed to sleep right in his hated robe and glasses.
In the morning, Adam woke up, and the robe was on the floor. He picked it up, carried it to the kitchen, and threw it in the trash. Finally, he felt free. All the jammed routine had been thrown away along with the robe, and the irritation was gone. Breathing was easier. His cell phone lay nearby, practically dead. Adam put it on charge and went into the kitchen; today, for the first time, he felt like having tea. The phone charged up, he went into the messages and, to his surprise, found no dialog box with Lisa. He couldn't access her page either, and he couldn't call her. Adam realized that she had blocked him. But why? Why was she doing this to him? Maybe he'd said something wrong? Behaved unculturally? He couldn't come up with a single convincing answer. There were still a lot of pictures of her on the flash drive. Adam considered posting them all in a fit of mild aggression. But it subsided smoothly after a couple of sips of tea. She'd only asked him to post one, he thought confusedly.
The next few days were difficult; he thought of her constantly. It was decided to stop by the coffee shop and find out what the reason was for such a low act on her part. Adam made it there in his home clothes in less than ten minutes. He saw a young guy behind the counter when he opened the door. The new barista had no idea who Lisa was. It was his second day working at this establishment, and he knew no one. Adam didn't even know her last name or at least the neighborhood where she lived.
After a week of self-abuse, the search efforts stopped. A couple of months later, a new wave of creativity swept over him. Stories and ideas were born nonstop. New faces found him. Success became even more, as well as earnings. There was no time to think about personal tragedies, and life was always moving forward. He had time for nostalgia only at night before going to bed. Usually, Adam spent this time watching mindless videos to chase away dark thoughts. Suddenly, after one of the videos, he saw Lisa in an automated commercial. It was a perfume commercial. The girl looked even better than before. Her hair was longer, and her haphazard curls were more coiffed. The commercial lasted 15 seconds. She was in a chiffon mauve sundress twirling against an expensive chromakey backdrop. Adam was so taken aback that he didn't even take a screenshot. It was hard to describe the emotion he was feeling. It was a mixture of elation and inner aggression. Flipping through a few more videos, he hoped to see the commercial again.
A couple of days later, while filming a new standard blonde in a huge dark apartment, the phone in his back pocket vibrated. It was a text from an unknown number:
"Call you on Tuesday. Lisa."
Adam was confused and didn't immediately realize it was the same Lisa. After a couple of seconds, he even laughed a little audibly. Putting his phone in his pocket, he continued to take pictures.
It seemed to him that the room had a slight smell of caramel.
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All rights for the whole and/or partial: graphic content (photos, videos, illustrations), plots/stories, single text materials, audio files/audio content, corresponding program code, that were used and/or are being used in the mobile application "NYMF" and/or all its original changes, additions, modifications and also on services https://dubnitskiy.com, https://nymf.com are the result of individual creativity and belong to D.I. Dubnitskiy (under the pen name of David Dubnitskiy).
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