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Chapter 51 by Romanorgy Romanorgy

What's next?

Back to the photoshoot

Satisfied with the fire you've left burning upstairs, you drift through the floorboards and out into the bright, blinding sunlight of the backyard.

The transition is jarring. The quiet, heavy intimacy of the bedroom is replaced by the splash of water and the rhythmic click-click-click of Lisa’s camera.

The sunlight glints off the pool’s surface, reflecting dancing patterns of light onto the white siding of the house. Chloe and Jessica are currently lounging on the high-end patio furniture Kenzie arranged, their poses athletic and confident. Their bikinis are trendy and flattering but entirely plausible for a suburban pool day—the kind of swimwear that looks "safe" to a father like Chad, even if the way they fill them out is anything but.

You drift among the group, a cool ripple in the summer heat. Lisa is lying flat on her stomach on the deck, her long lens resting on a rolled-up towel to get a low-angle shot of the girls.

"Chin down, Chloe. Look at Jessica like she just told you a secret about a boy you both like," Lisa directs, her voice carrying that low, focused vibration.

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Chloe tilts her head, her wet hair slicked back. "You mean a secret like why Tyler is staring at the camera screen like it’s a portal to another dimension?"

Jessica giggles, leaning into Chloe’s space, her shoulder pressing against her friend's. "Maybe he finally found a way to use his 'coding' to make us look like supermodels. How's the view from back there, Ty? Still breathing?"

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Tyler flushes, his grip tightening on the gold reflector he’s holding to bounce light onto their skin. The memory of the "Golden Shot" of Lisa he captured earlier is a hot coal in his mind. "I'm just... checking the exposure levels. The sun is bouncing off the water, and it's making the highlights blow out. Professional stuff, Jess. You wouldn't get it."

"Ooh, 'professional stuff,'" Jessica mock-whispers, winking at Chloe. "He’s so alpha when he’s holding a piece of shiny cardboard."

Mike claps Tyler on the shoulder, his large hand nearly covering the boy's upper back. "Let him work, girls. The kid's got a good eye. Right, Lisa?"

Lisa doesn't look up from the viewfinder. "He’s got a dangerous eye, Mike. If he keeps this up, I might have to hire him full-time just to keep him from starting his own studio."

What's next?

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