This is my 2nd story spun off, with permission and assistance, from a work by the awesome CorruptingPower. His original story, If I'm Honest, will add a little extra context, but given the slight difference in themes, this one is meant to work entirely as a stand alone if that one isn't your thing. I'm keeping this one purely F/F, following a photographer from Toronto as a magical item upends her lovelife.
This work is also the one I've been putting together with the backing of my subscribers, and is being released to them a couple of months in advance, so if you want more consider joining up.
Enjoy!
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Where do I go when every no turns into maybe?
Chapter 1 - Toronto, Canada
As the first of the fireworks painted colour across the night sky it was hard not to hope that 2022 was going to be where things started to change for me. Of course I had no idea then just how true that would end up being.
I've always loved New Years. And not just for the parties, even if I've been to some amazing ones. There's a neatness to them, a chance to feel like you're closing one volume and opening a new one; blank pages, pristine with potential, waiting to see what plans and hopes you choose to put to them. Even as a kid I saw resolutions as a sort of promise to myself, letting me set a destination and find a route towards what I wanted. I'd been meandering, in need of an excuse to try and find direction, and so there was comfort in the fact I already had this year's neatly written out and tucked away in the back of my wallet.
'
Riley - get your career back to where you want it, put yourself first, the world won't wait for women like you'
There weren't exactly many worse careers to have during 2020 than a travel photographer and, despite my hopes, 2021 hadn't been much better. Taking pictures is all I've been obsessed with doing since I was a little girl. Covid couldn't have come at much of a worse time for me, and while I'd been smart enough to set aside enough savings for the rainy days, the professional setbacks had been enough to leave me in tears more than once. I was still young enough to be fighting to make a name for myself, and I'd finally got to a point where the likes of Lonely Planet were interested enough in what I was sending them to start picking up expenses for me. The dream of travelling the world doing the one thing I loved, on someone else's dime, had been right there, practically brushing against my finger tips, only to slip away as the world locked itself down. And now, while I wasn't quite back at square one, it certainly felt close. Stuck back in Toronto dreaming of the places I might have been instead.
Cheers came from inside the party as the clock ticked from one year into the next, but I hadn't planned to be in there from the moment Alice had invited me to her party. My best friend's downtown apartment had the most incredible view of the CN Tower and the opportunity was always going to be too good for me to pass on. I'd spent the better part of half an hour getting my camera set up, painstakingly exacting with my focus and framing despite the fact the jeans and thin jacket I'd picked out were definitely inadequate for the Canadian cold.
My wardrobe was carefully cultivated like most other things in my life, the sort of casual that only comes with effort. And it was effort well worth it, since being on the taller side meant that extra bit of care made all the difference between simply seeming awkwardly lanky and the right sort of girls swooning. I'd dyed my hair a deep azure a few months into the last lockdown, shifting from the previous green to something that reminded me of open skies I felt a world away from. However, as I worked and the chill set in, I cursed myself for deciding showing off the colour was more important than bringing a hat.
Capturing the landmark lit up by fireworks was hardly going to be award winning, but with that little extra care and talent there was definitely the potential there for at least one of the stock photography agencies to be interested. And there was the added bonus of not being around the couples sharing new years kisses, reminding me of just how much of a disaster that part of my life also was. That wasn't even something I could blame on a pandemic.
I'd stopped to double check the exposure levels on the first volley of shots I'd taken when the party came to me instead. The too-blonde couple that spilled drunkenly out onto the balcony alongside me had been over familiar with each other all night, younger than most of the other guests and buzzed enough to be just slightly too loud for the occasion. She clutched at him with candy pink nails, enthusiastically kissing as his hand fumbled its way up her skirt and accidentally flashed me a glimpse of black panties. I didn't resent them having a good time, I'd definitely been there myself at that age, but I did resent the way they staggered towards where I'd set my camera.
"Hey, come on, be careful with that," I demanded. I couldn't have been much more obvious with my indignation as their making out carried the girl back into the balcony railing I had clamped my camera to, disturbing it with a rough jolt. They ignored me, too intoxicated to care about the woman with the blue pixie cut glaring at them.
I tried to ignore them in return, passive aggression coming a little too easily to me as I made a point of standing my ground to return to my photography. They had as much right to be out here as I did, perhaps more, they were the ones actually getting into the spirit of the occasion anyway, but I intended to make things as uncomfortable as possible until they left. And I prayed it wouldn't take them long. This was meant to be the highlight of my evening, the thing I'd been looking forward to for a week, now intruded on by cheap alcohol and reminders of the romance I wasn't getting.
It was when a stray elbow bumped directly into my gear however that my attempt at hostile indifference failed. The camera was the one I had bought with my first cheque from NatGeo and the sudden concern it might get knocked over the edge made my stomach flip. I'd honestly have rather seen myself go over the rail before it did, and with a surge of concern I found myself trying to drag the girl away before she found a way to damage it.
"I said be careful!"
I regretted slightly how unflatteringly rough I was, but didn't cope well with things being disrupted. The girl was quick to slur out a protest at the insensitive hand grabbing her, and she pulled back away from me towards the warm light of the balcony door. "Oww, what the fuck's your problem."
"Do you have any idea how much this thing costs?" Not exactly classy of me. "Drunken idiots who can't watch what they're doing are my problem. How about you both just fuck off already."
Even now, I'm not entirely sure what made me lose my cool quite as badly as I did. Over protectiveness of my camera? Obviously, that was a given, but probably shouldn't have made me feel quite as uptight as I did. Perhaps it was how much I'd anticipated doing this and I was a little too fragile from the last few years to feel it was being spoiled. Or maybe I resented the inauspicious turn my new start was already taking. With hindsight however I'm pretty sure there was a lot of my own unhappiness caught up in things, left exposed by other people's intimacy.
I can't remember the exact words that were exchanged, just that the man was apologetic, his partner confrontational. I do remember the feeling of trying to convince myself that I was ok, brushing off the lingering dissatisfaction and pushing it down. The tension only really eased when Alice emerged to join me a few minutes later.
I'd known her since kindergarten. I was quiet, stubborn and wilful while she was loud and easy going, a classic case of opposites attracting. She was the first one I'd confessed my sexuality to, almost before I'd even admitted it to myself, been the one who'd tolerated my emo phase, saw me through a dozen hair colours and just as many break ups. She'd watched me go from an awkward disaster of a teenager to a self assured disaster of an adult. And I'd returned the favour, being there through her own fumbling missteps.
"Well someone looks cheery," she jibed, sliding the door shut behind her before shivering slightly. "It's fucking freezing out here Riley. My party can't be that bad that you'd rather kill yourself out here can it?"
"A Toronto winter or being back in there as a third wheel to you and your jailbait? I choose the hypothermia." I managed to tease back.
Alice had always been gorgeous, with red hair and freckles that she claimed made her self conscious but that I'd have taken from her in a heartbeat. While I was all slim and slender angles, she had curves that made me wonder more than once if I was in love with her or just dumb and horny. I'd always found it oddly reassuring that even with all her looks and charm her attempts at romance seemed just as tragic as my queer car-crash of a lovelife. If beautiful, painfully hetero Alice struggled too then maybe that was just how things were and maybe it wasn't just that I was horribly defective. But showing up at the party that evening I knew instantly that that comfort was gone.
It was my first time getting to meet Anton in person. My immediate reaction on learning of her new boyfriend, who'd previously only existed in the abstract on her excited whatsapp messages, had been decidedly sceptical. We were both pushing thirty and he was still in college, practically an infant. He could barely even drink legally. And I couldn't quite manage to get my head around what she was doing with him, at least until I saw them together. I'd never seen her that happy quite like that before.
Anton was a little shy, awkward both socially and in his body he was still in the process of filling out. But he also had a sense of humour even drier than mine whenever he relaxed enough to use it and was attentive without being overbearing any time Alice was nearby. It was obvious how well he balanced her out, much like I'd always thought I did, and the way they moved around each other practically felt choreographed, so obviously at ease in a space together that it was almost poetic. I was thrilled for her, and it hurt like hell.
"Get the pictures you wanted," she asked, nodding in the direction of the camera.
I gave a noncommittal shrug. "I got some pictures. I was interrupted so we'll see how they turn out in the edit."
"Lindsay was ranting about some uptight blue haired bitch with a camera, and couldn't help but think how much that sounded exactly like my best friend. I thought better see if you were ok"
"I'm good." I replied, realising that my voice was hardly selling it. Alice gave me a flat look and I instinctively reached for a further protest long before I could actually stop to ask myself if it was true. "What? Really. I'm good."
"Buuuuuullshit. Don't pretend I can't see right through you Riley Levesque. You've been uptight all evening."
