They're Only Photos || Norman x Ray

3

RAY

"When life gives you lemons, be creative. Don't make lemonade."

~°~
When Mr. Ratri said the word 'Minerva', Ray's brain finally started working. His eyes widened and flashed across the table, where a white-haired man was sitting with his hands folded on his lap.

He did look like a Minerva, alright. Pale hair. White skin. Beautiful ice-blue eyes. This guy was the definition of perfect. And Ray would be photo shooting him.

"Yes, sir," Minerva said. His voice was angelic, and it sent shivers down Ray's spine to think somebody could sound so perfect. The man turned to him and smiled. "My name is Norman. I hope we can be friends."

Ray nodded. Only one part of his brain was currently working - and that part hoped he didn't look like a complete idiot. He wanted to make a good impression on his employers, after all.

"I'm gay - Ray! Sorry, uh... sometimes I get a bit of an accent when I'm nervous. Wait-" Had he really just told Norman Minerva that he was gay - and had an accent when he was nervous? So much for not looking like an idiot. Norman just laughed and told him that it was okay. No need to be nervous, blah blah blah. The type of stuff moms tell you when you're going on a school field trip for the day. Ray half expected him to say 'make sure you pack your sunscreen'.

It was pretty obvious to Ray that this guy, this innocent angelic.. entity, was for sure a heartthrob. He was the type of dude to be popular and deny it, the type of dude to have girls chasing him through school halways. If he was in high school, of course. Ray had to remind himself that the person sitting straight across from him was indeed a supermodel.

"So you see..."

"Ehem!" Mr. Ratri cleared his throat. Ray was glad for the interruption - he didn't want to spend the rest of the day being lectured by Norman. "Mr. Minerva, since you think it your job to take care of the newbie, why don't you show him around the studio? He'll love to see the equipment we have for photo shooting, I'm sure."

Norman stood up. Ray stood up too, as Norman made his way over to his side of the room and gestured for them to leave. Ray awkwardly followed him out, careful to step over the pieces of micellanious wires and equipment strewn across the floor. It was what Ray called an 'organised mess' and Norman a 'room for improvement'.

A soon as they shut the door behind them, Norman smiled and asked, "So, Ray. Where do you want to go first?"

"The studio," was the obvious answer Ray gave. Norman giggled. "So simple! It's a relief to have somebody like you around... everybody here is so serious."

"Yeah, looks like it," Ray replied. He didn't really feel like having a conversation, but some part of his brain started to switch on, screaming at him to entertain Norman until he could make a beeline for the front door. "Mr. Ratri... he's like a born manager. Does he shout a lot?"

"Yeah," Norman mumbled. He turned away. "Especially at me."

The last bit was only a whisper, but Ray still made it out. He knew it must be stressful being a model. He'd gone through that stress a few years ago. Before Ray had decided to be a photographer, his original passion had been modelling and acting. He would practise every day in front of the mirror. He thought he was superb. But when he entered a course for acting, he'd realised how stressful and slow it was and had quit.

A month afterwards, he'd discovered his love for photography. He'd gone straight to college at the age of seventeen and completed the course with top grades.

His moment of deja vu was cut short as Norman gestured for him to head down the hallway.

As they trudged down the white, billboard covered halls Norman tried to start some small talk. "So uh, are you excited for your new job?"

"Of course. I was happy when they sent the letter." Ray regretted the tone he used when he said happy.

Like being happy was... uncommon. When in reality, it was second nature.

A/N: So sorry this part was uneventful - I kind of lost track of the word count. But the next is when the real stuff starts to happen. :)