"Joanna?"
I heard my name coming from a familiar female voice. I swiftly turned around, so quick that I almost felt my head spin. "Hope?"
The tall blonde girl I hadn't seen in a while grinned, coming my way. "What are you doing here?" She wondered as she enveloped me in a tight hug. I had some photography equipment in my hands, so I tried to do my best to hug her back without breaking anything. She wore a green silk dress that made her absolutely stunning, I gotta say.
"I'm ... working." I mentioned as I pulled back.
"Working?"
I pointed at Ben, who was busy talking with brides and grooms. "Ben was hired for the photoshoots, I'm here as his assistant."
"That's wonderful!" Hope grinned, truthfully happy. "I'm here because Mr. Wharton is daddy's CFO," she rolled her eyes, "his wife is insufferable, and Libby Wharton is a nightmare, but ..." she shrugged, we had to." Rich people problems.
"Is Faith here, too?"
"I wish!" Hope scoffed. "That bitch made up some silly excuse not to come." She rolled her eyes. "It's probably for the best anyway, Libby and Faith ... well, better not have them in the same room."
I couldn't help but chuckle, nodding. I don't know what happened between the two, but 10 to 1, Libby Wharton wouldn't get out of a match with Faith alive. "Well, I gotta say it's nice to see a friendly face." I admitted.
"I know right!" Hope grabbed my hand, squeezing it. "You've been quite busy lately." She eyed Ben. "I guess love triangles tend to do that to a girl."
My eyes widened in shock. "What? No!" I unconsciously glanced at Ben, who was actually heading our way. "No, no ... we're ... I mean, he's gay!" Joanna, seriously. Your first answer should have been, I'm with Jeremy. Jesus, what is wrong with me?
Then again, am I with Jeremy? It's only been a month and we only kissed once. I mean, sure, he's called me every night this week, and we spent at least an hour talking, but ... in the end, did we define our relationship?
Hope took a long look at Ben, as if she was seeing him for the very first time. He was wearing black jeans, with a grey pullover over a white shirt â same as I was: on day 2, Mrs. Wharton presented us with a "uniform". I would wonder how did she find out my size, but I'm not sure I even want to know.
"Hey, Hope." Ben greeted with a tired smile. Only a few hours into the wedding day and we were both already exhausted, yeah. It was the last day, thankfully. We didn't even get out day off, because Mrs. Wharton decided we ought to make her money â or rather, her husband's money â worth, so while brides and grooms were having their bachelor and bachelorette parties, we had to all the way to the Wharton mansion in Hartford and take all the pictures we possibly could. It was totally unrelated to the weddings, actually. But, according to Mrs. Wharton, she was allowed to ask because her husband had been way too generous with our pay.
"Hey, Ben." Hope smiled politely, yet staring at him as if expecting something. A hug? They don't know each other well enough for that. Or maybe she was expecting him to gulp and faint at the sight of her heart-stopping beauty. She's still not convinced he's gay, it seems.
Ben took off his glasses for a moment, and raked a hand over his face. "Well, JoJo, it turns out we wasted the last 3 hours of the day." He sighed.
"What?" I turned to him, on the verge of a heart attack, because I don't think I can redo everything â again!
"Yeah, one of the brides doesn't like the photos we took by the fountain. She wants to redo them all."
"You gotta be kidding me ..."
Hope chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like Libby. I'm betting Caroline isn't giving you the slightest headache."
I nodded. "Caroline Wharton is the ideal client. She just leaves everything up to Ben."
"Come on, let's go." He said dryly. "They're waiting."
"Ok, boss." I tried to cheer him up, but he was so worn out he didn't even smile, just walked away. "Sorry, I have to go, Hope, before he hangs himself with the camera strap."
"The Whartons are making every single penny count, huh?" She laughed.
"Yeah." I stretched a bit. "I'm gonna sleep for a week, after this."
"As you should." Hope laughed. "Well, I'll let you go. But ... I'm glad to see you like this, you know."
"What do you mean?"
She shrugged. "I mean happy and open, talkative ... you look different, a great kind of different."
I half smiled. "Thanks." I didn't really know what else to say, so I started following Ben. "I'll see you at the reception."
She nodded. "Yeah, Nate is here, too. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you." He doesn't even know me, but okay. Thank God, Jeremy arrived at the perfect time, so Faith stopped trying to set me up with her impossibly out of my league brother. Nothing against Nate, but I don't think we really have anything in common. We can't be friends, imagine being what her sister wanted us to be ...
â§â§ ⧠⧠â§
"Do you think ... if the weddings are cancelled, we get paid anyway?" I wondered, eyes on the scene in front of us. Ben had stopped photographing. And for a good reason. It turns out that, during her bachelorette party, Libby slept with some guy, and one of the bridesmaids had the brilliant idea to tell her groom. Needless to say he flew into a rage, storming out of the church right before the weddings started.
Right now there was a whole commotion about it, with Libby running after her groom, Mrs. Wharton whisper-yelling â because a lady never raises her voice even while being as sharp as a knife with her tongue â orders here and there, and the guests overall gasping and murmuring that it was typical of Libby, and that Chuck â the groom â maybe dodged a bullet. For the thousandth time this week, I gotta repeat myself by sighing and saying: rich people.
Ben sighed as well, but not very amused. "Maybe we should talk to Mr. Wharton before his wife starts focusing her rage on 'the help'."
"You think she'd deny us what's owed?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe?"
Great. A week of nonstop work, and now it's possible we don't even get paid. "I need a beer." I grunted.
Ben chuckled, eyeing me while he cleaned his lens. "I thought you didn't drink."
"Well, it's your fault, you started this ... beer tradition."
"One beer and you're already an alcoholic, JoJo?"
"Who wouldn't be, after a week spent around Dolores Umbridge there." I hinted at Mrs. Wharton.
Finally, for the first time in a couple of days, Ben really laughed. He's been so tense and drained of every energy, we've pretty much swapped roles for the past couple of days, with me being the talkative one between us, in an attempt at cheering him up.
"I don't know what's Chuck complaining about." A voice murmured from behind me. When I turned around, I noticed a frowny Hope staring at the scene, arms crossed over her chest. "We all know this marriage is just a business deal."
"What do you mean?" I turned to her.
She shrugged. "Their mothers have competing companies, in a very old-style move, Mrs. Wharton decided that a marriage would sanction the merge that's been in the works for a few months now."
Repeat with me: exasperated sigh ... rich people. "What about Caroline?"
"Oh, that one's true, I'm sure. I introduced them. Caroline, Faith and I grew up together. I introduced her to Anthony last year, during the Fashion Week. Of course, her stepmother was against it." Of course, she would be. She's against anything that brings people joy, like a proper Umbridge.
"You." Mrs. Wharton spat, appearing in front of Ben. "Keep doing your job."
"But, ma'am ..."
She hinted behind us, where her daughter was standing, sporting a bright fake smile. "Delete anything you had on the scandal or I will sue the hell out of you. Now get on with your job, or do I have to do it for you?" Then she stormed away.
"Yes, ma'am ..." Ben grumbled, turning towards the entrance, hinting for me to do the same, since I was holding the equipment for the lighting. At least we're almost done.
â§â§ ⧠⧠â§
I recoiled when Ben screamed at the top of his lungs. "Are you ok?"
He nodded, plopping down onto the sand â because of course, such a grand venue is right be the ocean. "I'm just letting out some steam. You should try it."
"Scream at the top of my lungs in the middle of the night? No, thanks." I sat beside him. "But I'm glad it's finally over. I don't know how you manage."
He chuckled, taking a handful of sand to play with it. "Well, most of my clients are regular people. Nothing like this."
The wedding was over pretty soon, believe it or not. And because they had to deal with the whole ... scandal, Mrs. Wharton decided to be kind for once in her life and, after having paid us, she let us go. Since technically we can sleep here, because the wedding was supposed to go on until late night, Ben and I decided to relax a bit, so we came to the beach nearby.
"Don't you ever get tired of weddings?" I asked.
"Oh, I hate weddings. That's why I'm so good at photographing them."
I frowned, confused. "How does that make sense?"
"Maybe it doesn't. Not everything has to make sense, you know."
"You're a weird one." I chuckled, staring at the ocean.
"Says the queen of weirdos."
I laughed. "Touchée." He mimicked my laugh. "But seriously, thank you for this."
"I told you ..."
"Yeah, I know, but ... it's important to me." I eyed him carefully. "I was in neck-deep. Without this, I would have stayed in that stupid diner forever."
"And now ...?"
"Now I can breathe a little easier. Take some time to clear my head, ponder over my next moves."
"Make a plan."
"Yeah. Do you have a plan?" We never really finished that talk we started having the first night here. We both fell asleep, then we got to busy with work, Ben didn't come knocking on my door anymore.
He nodded, leaving his hands back to lean on the sand as he stared at the horizon while the sun was getting ready to set. "I could open my own photography agency, but I won't."
"Why not?"
"Agencies do mainstream stuff, and a lot of it has to do with posh people like Wharton or simple models. I didn't get into photography just so I could capture a living mannequin wearing some overpriced dress they wanna convince young girls is necessary to get into with that exact mannequin size."
I blinked my eyes, surprised. "That's quite the statement."
He sighed, his gaze now fully lost on the horizon. "I knew someone that was ruined by society's obsession with skinny."
Oh, shoot. Opening up, Ben before New York was about to make an appearance again. It's always a one in a million moments, I never feel ready for it, no matter how often they've start to come. So, I didn't know what to say, and remained silent, hoping he would continue.
"Pretty hurts. Isn't that what they say?"
"Perfection is a disease of a nation." I mumbled, unable to retain myself, which gained me Ben's quizzical look, despite the amused smile that was to erupt on his lips. "What? I like Beyoncé ..."
"Of course you do. You can go from Mozart to Taylor Swift, after all, right?" He mocked.
I slapped his arm, half laughing. "Don't make fun of me."
"You know the odd part, JoJo?" Ben claimed, sitting up as he stared at me. "We're here witnessing one of the most beautiful sunsets, yet all I can focus on, is you."
I gulped, totally caught off guard. My heart started beating fast, both because of his words and because I was frantically trying to think of something to say. I didn't know what. His words had no meaning either, because why would he focus on me, why would he forget a whole sunset, one he should have been photographing, as beautiful as it was, to look at me instead. "Who was she?" I asked, in a foolish attempt at relenting the tension that seemed to be building up between us, not to mention trying to calm down my heart.
Ben sighed, dropping onto the sand. He lay there for a long moment, eyes closed, then, finally, spoke: "Someone very important to me." A sister?
"What ... happened to her?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but anything that served to distract me from his words a minute ago was welcome.
"She had a dream."
"To be a model?"
He shook his head. "Actress." He corrected. "She gave up on ..." he hesitated for a moment, "something that meant the world to her. But it wasn't enough. These days, skinny isn't enough."
"Is she ..."
"She overdosed."
"I'm sorry ..."
He shook his head. "Diets are nonsense, JoJo. It's just society's way of reminding you you're not good enough. It doesn't matter what size you are, you'll never be good enough, yet they keep on telling you to get better, to want more, be more." He spoke softly, his voice lowering, as if he were falling asleep. "My friend, she, someone pointed her to some pills that would help her become what they wanted her to be. It would open up the doors of Hollywood for her, they said." His jaw clenched. "It killed her."
I remained silent. When it comes to these things, there are no words that can relieve grief. What could I possibly do or say that would help him? Nothing. So I just listened.
"I don't want to be a wheel of that same system that killed her." He said. "You think that, once in New York, I couldn't have made easy money just going after celebrities? Selling photos to gossip magazines?" He scoffed, as if the words were poison in his mouth. "I'd rather starve than feed the monster."
"Ben ..."
"It's very idealistic, I know. And maybe foolish. Hadn't I gotten lucky with those Italians, by now I would be back in Nebraska for good. But better that than losing myself and ... soiling her memory."
I don't think I've ever heard him speak so ... heartfeltly, fervently; enraged yet grieving, weary yet fully earnest. It's as he'd just bared his soul to me, and I had no idea what to do with it. Speaking would have ruined the moment, but remaining silent might have told him I didn't care. Hence, I did the only thing I thought was possible, the only one that really only he is getting me used to. I lay down beside him, and hugged him.
Ben circled my frame, pulling me into him, and I left my head on his chest. His heart beat erratically, same as mine, especially when placed a small kiss on the top of my head.
Months ago, I would have never thought something like this would happen to me. I would have never been so spontaneous. But now ... it might have been the whole setting â sunset, ocean, weariness from an entire week of work â, or just the fact that Ben has become the one person I trust and rely on the most, but it all felt ... natural. And it was a pure kind of natural.
It was easier, because I didn't even need to worry about any possible repercussions on our friendship. It felt liberating, in a way, to be able to just do anything, say anything, knowing it won't come back to bite me, that I won't be judged for it.
I closed my eyes, thinking I'd rest for a minute, instead my eyelids drooped, and I fell asleep. I barely heard Ben murmur something about "the truth" and "being honest". I probably heard wrong. What could he be possibly hiding from me? He's the most sincere person I've ever known.