Photo Booth

Tanner

″He′s mine,″ Emma insisted.

″Pfft, like hell he is. Tanny was mine since he came out,″ Farissa countered, linking arms with the handsome young man, to which Tanner, the subject of their quarrel, interjected, ″Ladies, ladies. Please. There′s enough of Tanner to go around.″

This met with intensified arguing. ″Oh, please.″ Emma snorted. ″You mean since he put on that rainbow hoodie and strode into Mr. Prance′s class?″

Tanner shook his head. ″That was once. And it was Pride.″

The girls proceeded to fight over him as the trio strolled along the deck by Santa Monica Pier. As per usual, the place was packed. Tanner had suggested they go to Hermosa instead, where they′d at least get to dabble in the low tide. But Farissa liked the hot dogs here. And that was that.

As they shuffled along － well, Tanner, at least, seeing as his ″girlfriends″ were practically throwing themselves onto him － some men glanced enviously at what appeared to be a tall, dark and dashing college student who couldn′t keep the girls off him. Little did they know, Tanner would have jovially opted to switch spots and cuddle up next to a boy instead.

His life may have looked glamorous － LA nightlife, hot chicks and a stature that would have Calvin Klein grovelling for him to model their underwear － but glamorous was far from the reality of it all. Okay, that last one is a teensy exaggeration. Calvin Klein never grovelled, not even for Matt Bomer.

Flecks of electric blue, crimson and fluorescent green speckled the skyline. Tanner felt self-conscious out in the open, especially as Emma and Farissa shamelessly, and loudly, claimed ownership of him. His eyes drifted towards a small, weather-beaten booth, flanked by a hot dog stall and a cotton candy machine.

Its neon sign read, ″Say Cheese″, but half its letters weren′t lit, so Tanner read it as, ″ y C ees ″. Needless to say, he only cared that it was a secluded, unfrequented photo booth that could′ve served as decent shelter. He tugged Farissa′s shoulder, gesticulating towards it. ″Shall we, mademoiselle?″ he chuckled.

″Cute photos with the GBFF?″ Emma gasped, as though it should′ve been on the itinerary, not merely a suggestion. ″You don′t have to ask me twice, babeh.″

Hauling them along, they toppled into the photo booth. Farissa snatched up a moustache prop, Emma a scarf, as Tanner operated the sticky buttons and pixelated screen. A tiny countdown started on the monitor. 10, 9 ...

″Here we go,″ he said, leaning back as the girls flung themselves onto him. Tanner wouldn′t have been surprised if the first photo on their filmstrip depicted him prying them off of him. 6, 5 ...

″Name a cheese,″ squealed Farissa through her duckface.

″Mozzarella,″ Tanner called out in a muffled voice, jaw forced into a plastic smile.

″Blue cheese,″ whispered Emma, and to Tanner′s bemusement, rather seductively. 3, 2, 1 ... Catching a glimpse of her sidelong, his eyes widened and he leant away from the blonde′s puckered lips, fake smile wavering as the flash blinded them. Not once, but thrice, as the camera primed.

Tanner shrugged off the girls as soon as it was over, shuffling towards the machine as he exhaled in relief. Inside, he heard buzzing as his fingers crept towards the small, metallic slit through which their strips would be printed. As always, uncollected filmstrips littered the collection tray.

On any other day, Tanner would′ve paid no attention to them. But his eyes caught the ones of a boy of perhaps six, dressed in an oversized, bright, yellow raincoat that closely resembled that of Georgie′s from It. Georgie, in the photograph, appeared to have visited the pier with his elder brother.

Holy shit. Bill, or whatever his real name was, was hot. Not just, Oh, he′s hot. Hot, like, He′s hot enough to like boys kind of hot. Don′t ask, the gaydar knows best. Tanner′s thumb brushed over the image of his face, heart beating wild as he pocketed the filmstrip and collected the three that had just printed.

Relax, Tanner, he chided himself. He′s probably long gone by now. But as he tripped out of the tiny photo booth, cringing at the photos he′d taken with the girls, a small flower of hope bloomed unnoticed in his chest. He knew, as soon as he′d laid his eyes on the adorable duo in the filmstrip, that he wanted them.

He needed to find Bill.