"aw, come on. when will you stop?" damiano groans as you walk along with him, your camera in hand.

"it's my job." you say, filming and taking pictures of him.

"you tell me every day. i see you every day." he says walking around the corner of his building, to the bakery he goes every morning.

you wait outside for him, you're a known paparazzi, you take the best candids and are the most respectful within what's possible. damiano walks out after a few minutes, two coffees in hand and a bag of croissants.

"two coffees, is one for your mysterious girlfriend?" you snap a couple of pictures.

"yeah. for you." he hands it to you, you blink.

"you're serious? jeez, thanks." you put the camera down. "good strategy to make me stop with the pictures."