CHAPTER 39: A BUSY DAY. AND A SLIP

I don't want to sound cocky or anything, but I think we killed it during the last round of the band competition. We sang three songs. The first song was Angel with a Shotgun by The Cab, This Suffering by Billy Talent and we closed it with a slower song by The All American Rejects called It Ends Tonight.

We get off the stage and join our friends in the audience, enjoying the rest of the competition while waiting for the results. There are plenty of amazing bands this year too. Last year's winner, The Unwanted, also joined in the competition again, totally crushing it with their R&B/Rock songs.

Well, there goes our first prize, I thought after The Unwanted finished their set. I'm not bitter because they are indeed awesome as hell and we've also given our all so no regrets.

In the end, we managed to get third place. I am beyond ecstatic. Way to start the busy day! Now, off to the fashion show!

The fashion show is quite easy. I just have to sit for about half an hour, getting my hair and makeup done before putting on the piece for the show.

My outfit is designed by Quin herself. I'm still not sure what the theme for the collection actually is; there is quite a lot of leather, see through materials, metals and chains. I almost thought that these people (the designers), especially Quinn have some kind of weird fetish or something. No judging, though.

My outfit is a long shirt made from soft see through materials with leather on the high collar and cuffs. My pants aren't leather (thank God) but are made from something like denim in black. I have chains dangling from my waist. I have on a pair of calf-high black military boots. My three earrings on my right ear had been replaced by interlocking chain thingy and it's really heavy. I have black eyeliner and a super pale makeup base. My hair is straightened up with a crazy amount of gel and hairspray. So uncomfortable.

But I look awesome. Heh heh heh.

The show itself lasted only an hour while it took them almost a whole month in preparation. It took me less than 30 seconds to walk the runway and back into the changing room. After making sure I am no longer needed, I rush to the nearest shower room and take a very rushed shower. I really need to get rid of at least the gel and hairspray.

After I finish my shower, hopefully looking normal again, I run straight to the gallery. The winner's announcement will start in ten minutes and I am hella nervous. I promise to meet Allen there because he wants to see the picture... and I'm starting to regret it.

I don't know how I can be so stupid as to use his picture as my piece. I mean, if that piece of photograph doesn't scream 'I Love You' then I don't know what does. I'm hoping though, I mean, praying that no one will read too much into the photograph and just accept that I took a good picture of a handsome man on the beach that fits with the theme of the competition and nothing more.

"Hi," I greet Allen at the entrance of the gallery, panting.

"Did you run all the way here?" he asks. I can only nod, trying to catch my breath.

"Let's go inside," I say to him and walk inside the gallery wiping the sweats from my forehead. Thankfully, the announcement still hasn't started, so I take Allen straight to my piece and show it to him, trying not to look too embarrassed.

"Well, here it is," I tell him once we arrived in front of the huge picture of him by the wall.

I named the picture 'Golden'. Cringe-worthy, I know. The picture is of Allen, topless at the beach, dripping wet from sweat and sea water, looking up as he brushes his hair back with his fingers. One hand on his hip, above the band of his shorts. Looking sideways so his perfect jaw-line can be seen. The sun in the background shines in its golden orange beams in the evening sky. The moon peeking shyly in the far corner. The waves calm and on the shade of dark blue.

I think it's one of my best photographs. I love how the light from the sun kisses his wet blonde hair, making it shine even more in a very dazzling way. That's also, probably, most likely, the time that I fell in love with him.

"Wow..." Allen says after a while. "Very... mesmerizing," He concludes, hiding half of his face in his palm, sounding, and slightly looking somehow... shy?

"The picture? Or you?" I manage to choke out a joke though I can feel my face burning.

"Me. Obviously," He grins and I pout.

"Lee! Allen! Come! The results are out!" Marsha calls us from the center stage and I tug Allen's arm before dragging him there to join Marsha and Kenneth as well as other contestants and some important people and visitors.

I gulp and bite my lips nervously. The MC takes so long with the speech and not to mention the guest judges' speech about the competition and I'm dying here people! I know, overdramatic. Whatever.

"Now, for the second runner up!" one of the judges from the University Photography Association and I grab Allen's hand, gripping it tightly, nervous as hell. "3rd place goes to Cassandra with her piece titled 'Setting Sun." I sigh in relief but only for a few seconds before I start fidgeting again while they are handing the prize to Cassandra after some descriptions about the piece and also some compliments.

"The first runner up," another judge, a critique, begins and I can feel myself tensing up even more. "Goes to Francis with her piece titled 'Glorious Days'." And again with the descriptions and compliments.

"And now, for the winner," Another judge, a renowned photographer, "It's actually a close call with Francis', but after looking much closer, we are able to decide unanimously. This piece, by far, is the most intriguing of all. It shows a lot of things. A lot of techniques, for one. And, a lot of feelings," He says, glancing around the room. "'Golden' by Levi A.M. congratulations!" he says and the judges gesture to me to come to the stage.

I can't believe it! I actually won!

I stare at the white-haired guy in disbelief before slowly, hesitantly making my way to the stage. He smiles at me and hands me a bouquet of flowers and an envelope. "He's dazzling, isn't he?" the man whispers to me, grinning knowingly and I think I died of embarrassment. I gape and choke at him as he winks at me before leading me down from the stage.

Now wonder he's such a renowned photographer. He can read so much just from a single picture. Even the most subtly unspoken words. That means, I'm pretty much screwed. Hope not. I hope no one else read into it as much as he did. Especially not Allen. Please? God?

Okay. Overdramatic. I'll stop now.

I sigh as I approach my friends who immediately congratulate me. I can only nod and smile and grin all too distracted as I keep glancing over to Allen who just stares at me with a smile on his face.

I shiver.

Am I really screwed now?

I manage to slip past the crowds and get away from, well, Allen. I don't like the way he smiled at me back there. Like he knew. I've been found out. And now I am running for my life. I am outraged by my own stupidity. How am I going to face him now that he knows? I mean, he must have known, right? The way he looked at me... I shudder remembering it.

Shit.

I run my fingers through my hair, finally stopped running. I end up at the football field. I ran pretty hard and now my stomach is rumbling pretty furiously. I sigh, scratching my head and turn around, deciding to hit the stalls at the soccer field. Besides, my next work is there anyway.

I circle around the stalls, buying snacks and drinks for me and the rest of the crews before joining them behind the huge stage. A group of dancers is in the middle of their performance and the crowds are starting to grow.

"What can I help you guys with today?" I ask Anton, the event section chief.

"Can you keep the time?" he asks, "I have to check on the fireworks and the other PICs," He says, handing me a sheet of paper. I take it and shoo him away. That guy looks exhausted. I give him a sympathetic look before studying the rundown.

I feel someone hopped on me, making me stumble forward, cursing. "Holy shi-!" I steady myself before turning and glare at Chuck. "One more of that, you're dead," I hiss, threatening him though I don't think I sound as menacing as I would and with that, a grin appears on his face.

"Whatcha doin?" he asks and I tell him about what Anton asked me to do before he's flopping down, joining the rest of the crew members who're busy setting equipment for the next performers.

"What are you doing?" I ask, frowning at him.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm helping out," Chuck rolls his eyes at me.

"I can see that! I mean, why?" I ask again. He just shrugs, not answering. I groan, not wanting to care anymore and just focus on my job.

I keep glaring down at Chuck who's engaged in serious conversations with the others in a hushed voice. I can't help but to feel a chill down my spine. I always get that feeling whenever Chuck's planning to play a prank on someone.

I don't like what I'm seeing. I hate it when I can read people this good.

I groan and scratch my head rather violently.

"Don't do that!" Chuck snaps at me and I stop in surprise before before glaring at him. He gets up and approaches me. I stand still, waiting for him to finally stand in front of me. He frowns when he realizes that I'm still glaring at him. "Sorry," He says softly, reaching his hand out to touch my head, "didn't mean to shout at you," He says softly, caressing my hair. His fingers on my forehead, brushing my fringes away from my face. I twitch when one of his fingers brushes against my old scar.

Not that it hurts. It's an old scar. It doesn't hurt anymore. It's just that I still don't really like it when it's touched. Not even by myself.

"Sorry," He says almost inaudible before leaning down slightly to kiss it. I shiver but I'm not pushing him away. He kisses it to make himself feel better. I know that. That's why even though I don't like it I let his lips linger there for a while.

I smile once he pulls away. He smiles back a little sadly.

"If you're planning something," I start, sounding as sweet as possible. Chuck's smile disappears. "A prank, one me... I'll have your balls cut off and feed them to the dogs," I end my sentence, still in the sweetest tone ever. I can see Chuck gulping but still manage to keep his composure.

"I don't," he says after a few seconds. "I am not planning any pranks," He scoffs at that.

"Chuck, I am not as oblivious as you and the rest of the world thinks," I roll my eyes at him. He pouts, turns on his heels and stomps his way back to the circle of our friends.

I can't help but chuckle. He's so cute when he pouts like that. But still, I know for a fact that he won't back down just because I tell him to. So I'll just have to prepare myself for whatever stupid mess he'll have me deal with later.

And later came, all too soon.