The Photograph

The whistling sounds of a barista machine frothing milk and the sounds of a crowd waiting for their coffee, to then drink before the end of their lunch breaks. But in amongst the crowd stood, at first glance, a normal man waiting on his coffee.

"ICED CAPPUCCINO FOR ARTHUR!" The Coastal Coffee barista shouted at the top of her lungs to get over the busy background noise.

"That would be mine," says a man in burgundy high top Vans, dark grey, skinny fit chinos, mustard yellow flannel shirt that is under a 'worn-in' navy blue blazer with the sleeves pushed up and the flannel sleeves rolled up and over the blazer ends, on his nose is a pair of gunmetal grey glasses and his dark brown hair, with hints of ginger, was brushed in a messy quiff.

"Wait? Are you that author?" The barista asks with a questioning tone as she is pouring foamed milk into a hot chocolate, but still slightly looking at Arthur.

"I... I don't know who you mean," Arthur replied beginning to walk away until-

"The author who lost his temper on a chat show at a high-level celebrity?" The barista piped up as she loudly clicks on the lid to the hot chocolate and Arthur froze.

"I think you'll find that, is my hot chocolate." A female, from the crowd of people, quickly intervenes and takes her to-go hot chocolate, "Also do your fucking job. Don't harass the customers... Hang on is that your manager?"

"No... Sorry sir..." The barista quickly answers looking to spot her manager coming into the coffee shop.

As Arthur walks out of the entrance that leads to the outside, the female follows behind him and from a closer look Arthur notices she is in brown leather boots, green cargo trousers, a grey graphic tee-shirt, a brown suede leather jacket, and her light brown hair tied back in a short ponytail. But she has no press tag around her neck, no pen in the top pocket and definitely doesn't walk like a reporter, this woman is more laid back unless you're a barista who verbally harassed a customer.

"I don't appreciate being followed, I had all the press following me for two months." Arthur raises his voice so the woman could hear him and then walks to an outside table at a different cafe, to sit down and drink his iced cappuccino.

"I'm sorry, do you mind if I sit?" The still nameless woman asks, looking at the empty chair opposite Arthur.

"You can, it's not like I'm waiting on anyone. No one wants to talk to Arthur Barnes, the author who raged at James Bull live on the Late Show." Arthur openly explained to the woman, who he'd never met before, before him.

"I want to talk to you, whatever you have done prior to this moment is the past, I don't care about the past. I care about the present." The woman replies and smiles after taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

"I don't even know you, but thank you," Arthur answered the woman as he played with the straw in his iced cappuccino.

"I'm so sorry, my name is Juliet. Juliet Rose." The woman replies smiling, takes a long drink of hot chocolate and pulls out a notebook to write something down, "this is my number, if you need someone to talk to, or if you want to get a cocktail?" Juliet suggests and hands Arthur the bit of paper.

"Thank you, I'll keep it in mind... Are you going anywhere?" Arthur asks with a curious tone and smiles at Juliet.

"Not for a while no," Juliet replies and puts her half-full, still warm, hot chocolate down on the table and crosses one leg over the other, to get comfy.

"Well, what do you want to know?" Arthur asks, looking at Juliet with a detective-like look and loosely crosses his arm, to then lean back against the back of the chair, suggesting he is ready to share.

After chatting, answering questions and the odd laugh, Arthur and Juliet had gotten through more than one hot drink and some light food, they had also gotten to know each other more than a failed author and a mysterious woman from a coffee shop queue.

"What are you doing tomorrow evening?" Arthur quickly asks with a flicker of confidence in his voice.

"Umm, I was going to work on my project car... my grease and oil splattered boots explain it." Juliet replies smiling and runs a spoon around her empty coffee cup.

"Okay... Do you want an extra pair of hands, I have worked on a fair few projects myself." Arthur explains and looks at the time on his black face, brown leather strapped Rolex and is surprised that it is 4:35 pm and they sat down at 2:15 pm.

"I'll take an extra pair of hands if you bring Chinese?" Juliet bargains as she writes her address on a napkin and slides it across to Arthur.

"Deal, see you at 6?" Arthur questions and looks at Juliet with a hopeful smile.

"Absolutely." Juliet answers and something sparks between them, a connection, a shared feeling.

The two get up from where they are sat, say goodbye and spit ways. After a few paces away from Juliet, Arthur notices a camera flash aimed at him and starts heading in the direction of the flash and before he could get within shouting distance of the photographer, the person started running.

"I thought I wasn't going to do a workout today," Arthur thought to himself as he goes in chase of the photographer, which took him through a local market, down the main straight of New York City and towards the dock where the photographer stopped to take a breath, which was a bad choice, and Arthur finally caught up to the person.

"For a photographer, you can surely move." Arthur says to lightly start the conversation with the photographer before him.

"Well if you have an angry author after you, you learn to run at a fast pace." The now recognisable, freckle-faced, ginger, male photographer quickly answers Arthur while still catching his breath.

"Look. remove the film from the camera and I won't be tempted to throw you off the docks while exposing the whole roll of film to the sun." Arthur explains, still acting relaxed towards the photographer.

"No. this photo will make headline news. 'Arthur Barnes's Love Life', good title I think." The photographer answers with a smirk on his face and takes a photo of Arthur standing before him.

"Alright you ginger prick, you're going for a swim." Arthur bluntly tells the photographer and walks towards him, and he slowly edges back to the edge of the dock.

"I can't swim!" the photographer screams as he falls off of the dock and into the cold autumn water below, "HELP!"

"Oh shit, he wasn't joking. Fucks sake!" Arthur shouts and takes off his jacket, shoes and socks to then jump into the cold water to save the drowning, ginger idiot of a photographer.

Arthur reaches and pulls the photographer out from under the water to the surface where he was floating... "I have you... next time don't take photos of failed authors. Okay?" Arthur asks as he swims backwards pulling the photographer along with him towards the metal steps aside from the dockside.

"Y... yessss... sir..." the photographer answers with a shaky tone and notices his camera is missing, "Where is my camera? fuck, My boss is going to kill me."

"I'll buy you a new one, my apology to you." Arthur answers as he gets onto the stairs with the photographer still in his hands.

"Thank you, but it was my fault in the first place"- "Don't. I will buy you a new one, look why don't you write an exclusive on my car collection?" Arthur interrupts and suggests the idea to the photographer as the two make their way up the slightly rusted stairs.

"Okay, I'm in." the photographer answers with a smile and shakes Arthur's hand, to agree to the plan.