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Picture Perfect Rivalry
They say love is made in heaven.
But so is thunder and lightning.
There it was, making my heart beat faster. That size... perfect. Those curves... irresistible. That charisma... heavenly.
Romantic music caressed my senses, the scent of flowers was in the air and glittering soap bubbles fell from above. The scenery turned into a beautiful fairy tale and I blocked out all the hustle and bustle around me. The two of us were meant to be together, I realized at that moment.
"Shall I introduce the two of you?" A velvety voice in my ear, warm breath on my neck, goose flesh on my body.
I was brought back to the present as if by a bucket of ice-cold water. The music stopped, someone was swearing somewhere, and the heavy scent of flowers threatened to give me a sneezing fit. I knew why I hated this place.
"No!" That was a bit too forceful, I cleared my throat. "No, thank you. I'm well-prepared." I patted the heavy thing around my neck that regularly liked to rest on my boobs, which in turn complained grumpily after a long day at work. I turned to the male voice and had to squint to avoid being blinded by the beaming smile.
"Surely not?" teased the guy, who was already climbing dangerously high on the annoy-me-scale. "I could organize a date for you. After all, you devoured it with your eyes, almost drooled over it."
"I didn't!" I complained. "That's purely a professional interest."
"But it's so practical. It charges in just three hours and keeps its promise all night long. Fifty times zoom, full HD and no dirty secret can be hidden from the megapixels."
Yes, the TX-103 there on the tripod was the market leader among camcorders and apparently the guy in front of me knew that very well.
"No thanks," I repeated myself a little more clearly. "I'm more into photography." As if the camera around my neck wasn't clear. To make it even clearer, I underlined the logo on my shirt: Wedding Bell – Shutter Spell. "I'm the wedding photographer."
"Oh! Then we're colleagues!" No, please don't. I am and always have been a lone wolf. "I'm Thomas and Alina's videographer."
He was still beaming at me like that. It was disgusting how people could be in such a good mood on the best day of someone else's life. "I'm sure together we can capture their special day for eternity." His enthusiasm was almost admirable. I myself just wanted to pay my bills, because I neither believed in true love nor did I ever want to photograph weddings. But life was merciless sometimes, and I had no other choice. At least the high divorce rate proved the cynic in me right.
"Uh... yeah, sure, sure. As long as you don't run into my picture, it's all good." Videographers... tz! This wasn't my first wedding, nor my last. But I'd never had a good experience with videographers. They were either too slow, too fast, too hectic, too present or simply... too annoying.
All around us, the busy florist continued to work on the floral decorations and shooed the bubble-inducing flower children out of the way; the band resumed their music rehearsal. The normal madness.
"Well, I'll see you later when the wedding starts!" Finally, he took his sexy camcorder and said goodbye. "Oh, and a little tip: as a wedding photographer, you should probably... smile a bit more yourself. That won't drive away future customers."
What did he know about my clientele! I was good! I was paid for photos, not to play grinning model. He winked at me when I didn't say anything back. "You know: Say cheese, say love!"
And with those words, he turned around laughing, and I could read his brand name on his T-shirt: Wedding Videography by Mr. Right.
So I must be Mrs. Always Right.
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© Midnightmuse
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