The Photographer (Ignazio Boschetto Fanfiction)

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

I ran through the snow, my breath loud and visible in front of me as I jogged down the white Detroit street in mid-February. My red high-tops dug into the snow and then threw up a white flurry behind me. I held the freezing metal of the camera close to my chest as I panted and rushed into the hotel lobby.

My wet shoes squeaked loudly on the lobby floor as I raced through it into the elevator. The doors closed and I was alone, shivering and hearing my teeth chattering audibly. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked it, rereading the text from Michele.

Great news, Tamzin! We’re having a meeting in my hotel room about it. Come if you’re not too absorbed in Detroit!

I was pretty much finished with my photography excursion anyway when I got the message, and I was eager to see the boys’ excitement. I thought I already knew the news.

Wanting immediately to increase Il Volo’s popularity, I secretly called in a favor to an old friend from Harrison, Jason, who had quickly grown in power in the music industry after leaving the Academy. I had enlightened him on the world of Il Volo, and he had been doing the best he could to secure the boys a spot in the California Music Festival.

The California Music Festival was an annual outdoor celebration in early March where thousands of people would gather over the course of three days to see their favorite artists perform. They always had extremely famous people performing on multiple outdoor stages, and tickets were always hard to get. I admired it for being a good photography location. A certain nearby hill offered an extensive landscape of all the gorgeous stages and mobs of fans. The place was always lavishly decorated, and I always admired the setup. It was a great opportunity for Il Volo to gain some new fans, and I had hoped eagerly that Jason would be able to accomplish his task.

My jacket was wet and making me colder, so I stripped it off and held it in my hands, shaking and waiting for the elevator doors to open. When they did, I jogged down the hallway, hearing the excited chatter from several feet away, and went into their room, not bothering to drop off my coat and camera in my own room.

“Tamzin!” Michele exclaimed when I burst into the room, “My goodness, child! Calm down!”

“What’s the news?” I asked breathlessly, and Barbara smiled from where she sat beside Michele.

“Hi, Tamzin! How did your photos come out?”

I laughed, nodding eagerly as I clasped my camera to my chest.

“Brilliant!” I exclaimed, and she nodded.

“I guessed it!”

Ignazio was sitting in a chair close to the door, and he stood up and came to me, smiling, as Piero and Gianluca resumed their conversation with Michele.

“Oh, just look at these rosy cheeks!” he said, reaching out to playfully pat one. I pulled back, smiling and eyeing his hand, and he laughed and set his hand on my shoulders, feeling me shaking under his grasp. “Oh, you’re so cold!” he said, his expression shifting to tenderness, and he quickly pulled off his dry jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Let’s go sit by the fire.”

“There’s a fire?” I asked quickly, and he laughed and nodded.

We crossed the room together to the armchair close to the fireplace, and I set my coat and camera on a lamp table. Then I sat in the chair beside Ignazio, and Michele turned to me and held out his phone for me to take.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it.

On it was a picture of the most beautiful outdoor theatre I’d ever seen.