They're Only Photos || Norman x Ray

21

RAY

"Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better."

~°~
Ray was way too addicted. Not addicted - he needed a stronger word. He was.... obsessed. It didn't seem in his power to control this rabid obsession. The obsession over pictures of his best and only friend, Norman Minerva. Ray was taking way too many photos for himself during the photoshoots. 

Even outside of work he kept his camera with him, sneakily catching the man's face at attractive angles. Ray was like a stalker at this point! And the worst thing about it was: he wanted to do it, even though he knew it was a violation of privacy. 

Being overly enthusiastic was supposed to be Norman's thing. He was supposed to be the stupid, angelic, whingy crybaby. Slightly exaggerated, but you got where Ray was coming from.

Every five minutes, Ray would whip out a picture of the white-haired male. He couldn't help himself; the pictures calmed him down and helped him to relax. It also thoroughly distracted him from work, but for once Ray focused on the positive effects rather than the negative.

Today was no different, and Ray couldn't relax around Emma. She'd insisted to come over to his house to discuss a project Mr. Ratri wanted them to work on. She'd kept it short and sweet. Ray hadn't realised she'd be staying for four hours. Emma had very... conveniently left that part out.

He couldn't just take out a photo of Norman with Emma in the room. Usually when they hung out Norman would be there and it would fuel Ray's hunger.

But not today. Ray sat as still as he could, taking deep breaths and barely focusing on what the orange-haired girl was talking about. Although when he turned on his ears again, it seemed she'd strayed from the topic.

"She's just so.... cute! Like, I know it's wrong for me to like her, since she already has a girlfriend but... wow!"

Ray had no idea who Emma was talking about, so he casually added to the conversation. "If you married her, would you take her second name?"

Emma grinned. "Maybe I would. Emma Jackson.... I like the sound of that! Like that girl from Home and Away."

That was the show Emma always watched. Jackson... who did he know called Jackson?

"Although I would like if she took my name! Gilda Demfry, y'know?" Emma continued.

That was it. Emma had a crush on the apartment's receptionist. Gilda Jackson.

"Hmm.... we could name our son Percy, or Michael!"

Ray's mind flashed to the singer Michael Jackson, and to the fictional Percy Jackson. 

"Or if we had a daughter.... Ray or Norma. Maybe Rachel!"

Ray flinched. "Like me and Norman?" he asked, even though he knew the answer was yes.

"Mhm!"

"Well, good luck with that," Ray told her and then stood up. "I think you better get going now. It's pretty late."

Emma nodded at him. "You're right, Ray." She joined him in the standing position. Before she left the house, she turned to Ray and said, "I'm glad you support me, Ray. My sister wasn't really.... accepting... when I came out in my sophomore year, to say the least. She's homophobic and... she posted stuff on her Instagram, too. Wrote a load of slurs and mean things about me and lesbians in general. I guess she didn't think I'd see the post. Her opinion was coming from a pregnant sixteen-year-old, so I slyly pointed out that lesbians don't really get that problem by accident."

"Your sister was pregnant as a teen?"

"Oh, yeah. Had sex with her best friend's boyfriend at a party of some sort. They never met again; my mother was furious with her. I did feel pretty sorry for her, but more sorry for me, y'know?"

Ray nodded. He understood completely what it was like to have someone close to you betray you like that. When he was in his late years of middle school, he had two best friends named Elvis and Presley. Presley and Elvis would hang out with him every day.

 After a while of being best friends, Presley was diagnosed with cancer. Ray had been shocked and  had cried with Presley, as they feared the worst for the 13-year-old boy. Elvis had been sympathetic, too, patting Presley on the back and promising he'd be with him every step of the way. Empty promises. What a liar.

He'd told the whole school about Presley's supposed "contagious" condition, and made fun of him behind his back. Then he'd said Ray had a disease too, and not to go near the either of them in case someone caught it. He'd stopped hanging out with them after that. 

Presley had died a year later, and Elvis hadn't seemed to care. Ray would never forget that stupid, heartless bastard. And the worst part was.... Presley had liked Elvis. Really liked him. He'd told Ray he was going to ask Elvis to be his boyfriend a while before he'd been diagnosed with cancer. It just showed how arrogant teenagers could be.

"I get you," Ray assured Emma, hopping back to the present. "You better get going now. Bye."

"Goodbye and goodnight, Ray!" Emma shouted, back to her usual self. "Oh... and one more thing. Do you think I should ask Gilda out?"

Ray didn't have to think about it. He knew a perfect match when he saw one. "Of course. I've heard her and her girlfriend have been having problems.... I think it'd be best for her to ditch that relationship and get with you instead."

Emma beamed. "Thank you so much, Ray." She shut the door behind her. Ray stared out the window after her departure. Five minutes later, he watched her sillhouette as  it skipped  down the parking lot and made its way out of the apartment block.

Then, he noticed another silhouette make its way towards the entrance. He frowned, and on closer inspection under the lobby lights, he made out Norman's small figure as it hopped through the doors. He frowned. Why was his friend coming home so late? Ray knew Hayato put the guy on a strict curfew, so why would he let him roam around on his own at night?

Ray stared into the distance. "If Norman's disrespecting his curfew," Ray thought aloud, "then that means he's not getting enough sleep!" He scruntched his eyebrows together and scowled. "Stupid Norman! He needs to take care of himself, I can't have my bab-"

". . .eeeeyyyy- I mean, best friend, suffering like that!" Ray quickly slipped on his crocs and bathrobe to distract himself from his weird thoughts, and ran to the door to look for Norman.

He was interuppted by a strict knock on the door. 

"Huh," Ray said flatly. "I guess my victim has come to accept his treacherous fate!"

Norman's muffled voice came from the hallway. "I'm sorry, what?"