The first rule of photography is to never fabricate your subject. Yet here I am, fabricating an entire relationship with campus hockey hero Ethan, complete with carefully curated social media posts and practiced public kisses.
My dreams are bigger than my bank account. Just click the shutter and cash the checks, I repeat like a mantra while framing another perfect shot of Ethan. On ice, he moves like poetry in motion – all lean muscle and impossible grace that my camera worships even when I refuse to.
A month ago, I was cursing his name after he nearly bit my head off...
The first rule of photography is to never fabricate your subject. Yet here I am, fabricating an entire relationship with campus hockey hero Ethan, complete with carefully curated social media posts and practiced public kisses.
My dreams are bigger than my bank account. Just click the shutter and cash the checks, I repeat like a mantra while framing another perfect shot of Ethan. On ice, he moves like poetry in motion – all lean muscle and impossible grace that my camera worships even when I refuse to.
A month ago, I was cursing his name after he nearly bit my head off for accidentally causing his crash. Now Im wearing his team jacket and memorizing his game schedule. Amazing what a slashed scholarship and the threat of dropping out can do to a girls principles.
The arrangement is supposed to be clinical. A few months of hand-holding, strategic public appearances, and news-worthy couple moments.
He gets the NHL scouts seeing him as stable boyfriend material while keeping his clingy ex at bay. I get exclusive access that will make my portfolio irresistible and connections to land that dream internship.
When the championship game ends, so does this charade. Simple and efficient. Absolutely no catching feelings allowed.
The countdown clock is ticking. Only few more weeks of this elaborate performance before we each get what we wanted and walk away.
So why am I suddenly taking twice as many pictures of him during practice? Why am I saving his ridiculous hockey memes and finding excuses to stay for post-game celebrations?
Every photographer knows timing is everything. But as I watch Ethan across the crowded hockey house, I realize that Ive stumbled into the most dangerous shot of all.
Because while my camera documented our fake story for the world, my foolish heart was quietly developing something entirely real. When our final scene wraps, I might be the one left with more than just pictures to remember him by.
