The Photographer (Ignazio Boschetto Fanfiction)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

          Our second day in Guadalajara was dedicated to publicity, and the boys had a talk show interview, a magazine interview, and a CD signing at a local store. I was expected to go with them the whole day to take pictures, which I was not too excited to do. I was eager to go out and get pictures of the Guadalajara sunrise, though, so I set my alarm for five to have enough time to go out and get the shots I wanted.

          When I woke and remembered the long day ahead, I felt grouchy and tired, but I cheered up when I remembered I was getting up to take pictures. The hotel was silent, and I jumped out of the bed and hurried to get dressed.

          I ran out into the darkness of the early morning, with my red high-tops pounding against the cement and my camera bouncing against me, my breath loud and quick as I navigated through the darkness to the good photo spots I had found. I was the only one outside, and the land was all mine for a while.

          I watched as the dark gray sky slowly changed to a dark blue that faded to a lighter and lighter blue, until the sun peeked into the horizon and swirled it with brilliant pinks and oranges. The silhouettes of the trees and buildings were dark outlines that gradually received their color from the brightening morning light.

          I moved from one spot to another, getting different angles and scenes for the pictures. I would stop at one place and take a few pictures, then race excitedly against the light to the next location in order to fit in as many photos as I could before the sun was completely risen.

          At last I decided I was finished taking my pictures, and I sat breathlessly on the side of a downtown fountain and watched the activity around me slowly start up, thinking about what a great thing it was to travel. And this was only the first stop on the Il Volo tour! Thinking of all the places we were going to visit made me dizzy with happiness, and I jumped up from the fountain and began to stroll in the direction of the hotel.

          When I got close and I was sure of my path, I picked up the camera and began to review my photos, excited approval bubbling inside me. Each one marked not only the beauty of Guadalajara, but reminded me of the beauty of my early morning endeavor, the frenzied, joyful rush to capture the world around me on film.

          I was giddy with excitement and beaming with delight as I flicked through the pictures, and I laughed joyously at the success of the mission evident in the images. The sound of my laughter broke through the sleepiness of the early morning and made me laugh again as I hurried happily toward the hotel, alight with familiar passion and cheer.         

          Our hotel rooms were on the first floor of the hotel, and each had a back door and a nice little porch. I went through the hotel’s fence and approached the porch, still intent on my photos. I laughed again, and beamed at my beloved camera.

          “Hi, Tamzin!” came a voice, and I froze in my tracks and looked up.

          Ignazio was sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee in his hand, wearing the same T-shirt from the night before when he had brought me the CDs, with tousled hair and bright eyes. He was looking at me with cheerful amusement, and I suddenly felt silly, laughing joyously and thinking that no one was listening. I felt small under his gaze, and I wondered if he thought I seemed foolish for being so giddy.

          I felt obliged to answer him in my flustered state, so I let go of my camera and let it hang around my neck, pulling myself away from the photos and asking as casually as I could, “Uh…what’s up?”