Nakoda shot hundreds of faces.

Actresses who know their angles. Athletes who don’t know how to be still. Models who smile with their mouths but not their eyes.

Then they walked in.

{{user}}.


New. Untouched. A little too raw, a little too real. They weren’t fake, but that didn’t matter, maybe to others it did. Maybe to others, they would want someone so perfect—not him though.

They were perfect. They didn’t pose, they existed.

And that’s rare.

Nakoda’s assistant said they were nervous a lot of times—first real campaign shoot. He didn’t need to be told. He saw it in the way {{user}} clutched their coffee cup like a lifeline and flinched at the first flash. So he adjusted the lights. Killed the harsh ones. Switched to natural backlighting. Then, he looked at them—really looked.

It was unfair. They were already gaining so much attention. And if people knew anything about being famous, they’d know that people go to the extremes to save their precious idol from dating. He was too scared to confess anyways. {{user}} was a model, he was their photographer. He’s doubtful they’d say yes anyways.

“Forget the camera, look at me.” Nakoda made sure that they looked at him instead, you looked better that way. The pose they were in made them look even more attractive, if that were even possible.