They're Only Photos || Norman x Ray

4

NORMAN

"Don't waste time on those who pity you because you're weak. In reality, it's them who hold you back."

~°~
Norman led Ray through the twisting halls of Lambda Productions' Studios. It was an intricate building, and finely decorated too. Norman had always admired the handwork in the accessories and side pieces. So precise and neat. That was the way he liked things.

Of course, that was why he'd stood out so much as a kid. Even as the son of a celebrity couple, he'd received quite a lot of hassle, in high school especially. Norman's neat, tidy and strategic persona had no place in a world where everyone was loud, annoying and - dare he say it? - stupid.

The fact that he was overly handsome and had the intelligence quota of a genius had also been a problem growing up. Nobody liked him, that was fact. He'd skipped six years of school and had grown up going to class with kids way older than him. They were like giants to his younger self.

Norman had gone to university at the age of twelve, to study to be a doctor. But he'd had to cut his medical journey short to pursue modelling, since his parents had signed him up to be one.

He'd never really continued medical school, but hoped he could go back one day.

Unfortunately, he must've spaced out because Ray cleared his throat and poked Norman's cheek.

"Excuse me? You good, Norman, or are you having a moment of silence for the Crunchie that just fell out if your pocket?"

Norman laughed. Ray was pretty funny. He kind of reminded him of himself, in a way. Not the fact that he was funny. Norman definitely wasn't funny.

It was just, Ray didn't seem to be loud or annoying. Or stupid, either. He was also a bit shy - Norman saw his reactions when he was being talked to during the meetings, and although he didn't react like that he certainly felt like it.

They'd reached the studios. Norman had successfully managed to lose Ray.

He found him ten minutes later, crouching over the camera and recording equipment in the farthest corner.

"This is like, professional stuff! This lense looks expensive - what is it?"

Ray held up a camera with a long, thin protruding lense and various buttons jutting from the side.

"Uhm... I don't know, sorry. You could ask Krone - she's in charge of equipment and technology here in the studios."

"Krone.... Danish money?"

"Haha, no. Fun fact - it's also the currency of Norway. Sweden too, but they spell it differently-"

Ray's glare cut him short. "I'm not here for a lesson in foreign currencies."

Norman felt himself blush. Being how pale he was, his face probably looked like it was on fire.

"So." Norman sat cross-legged beside Ray on the floor of the studio. "You live around here?"

Ray shook his head, still studying the lense. "Well, you'll have to move closer if you want to work here. The shifts are really long, and when the studio is going through production - we're all going through it."

"Mhm," Ray mumbled, but it didn't really seem like he was paying attention. "Mr. Ratri owns an apartment block down the road from here - I'm living there myself and it's a very cheap fee since the rooms are for employees only."

Ray nodded, like he was considering it. He held up the lense of the camera he was playing with. There was a SNAP as he captured a picture of Norman's face.

He stared at the screen. Norman peeked over the top of the camera but he batted the man's face away with his hand.

Norman didn't try to stop him as he printed the picture. It was only a photo - what harm could it do?