posting this feels like I'm crawling out of my grave and gasping for air
anyway- inspired by this post by @inthedarknessofnight
here's 1.3k of concert photographer!Steve and rockstar!Eddie because I couldn't get this out of my head
gimme, gimme more
1.3k words | this is the most g-rated thing I've ever written, it won't happen again
Steveās feet hurt.
They always do after a show, but this one was particularly hard on him.
Heās been at this venue for two years now and shot countless shows in that time. But never in his career has he been challenged soā athletically.Ā
The photo pit at this place is light years better than his last venue. Thereās more than enough room for all of the photographers and their gear without stepping on each other. Usually Steve is grateful for this because surely there is only so many more beatings his 35mm can take before it kicks the bucket. Today though, heās grateful for the space because of the full-tilt sprint this band had him in.Ā
Heās never seen anything like it.
Well, less so did the band have him in a sprint and more so the frontman but, semantics.Ā
The guy is everywhere. Steve could barely keep up with the way he ran around stage, jumping, climbing on equipment, leaning off-stage toward the barricade.
It was fun but Jesus, what is his deal?
Steve hadnāt even known who Corroded Coffin was 24 hours ago. Now heās burned through two SD cards in an hour and a half.Ā
The guyās hot and a good photo subject, sue him.
Well, he thinks heās a good photo subject at least. He wonāt know until heās culled through every single shot. Steveās a good photographer, took to it naturally the first time he picked up a camera. His downfall though, according to his college professors at least, was that he pays absolutely no attention to what heās shooting while heās shooting it. Hence the overshooting.Ā
On more than one occasion heās gotten started on editing and someone is wearing an outfit heās never seen before, someoneās got sunglasses on in every photo, a tag hanging off their jacket. All heās concerned with is the framing, the lighting, and the focus. The content can be a problem for Future Steve. Everything can be fixed in post.
Almost.
Anyway, his feet hurt and he hates culling, so he pours himself a full glass of wine and plops down on the couch in front of an episode of trash tv with his laptop and props his feet up. Settles in for a long night.
2,461 images.
He throws his head back with a groan. Ugh.Ā
The first hundred or so are garbage.
They always are.
A few shots spent fucking with the exposure, a few the focus, some the flash.
He denotes the purple flag as his āgoodā tag and orange as his ātrashā tag. The orange is stacking up fast. Around 163 he starts finding some good images. Ones that arenāt tainted by motion blur from his running around after this frontman.Ā
His photos of the drummer are pretty sick; he can't lie. The lights and the smoke and the near-manic smile on his face make for great photos. Heās not even this bandās personal photographer but he can imagine at least one of these will get posted to the band's socials. Heās good, what can he say?
He has a good bit of the bassist, his energy infectious enough you can almost feel it through the screen. Purple is making a comeback.
He finally gets through some crowd pics, some more drummer, some guitarist, some detail shots before he finally makes it to the frontman. 731 photos later.Ā
What did Wikipedia say his name was? Eddie, he thinks.
Weird, the very first shot Steve has of him heās making fierce eye contact with the camera.
Ew.
No matter how long Steve does this, photos of people looking directly at the camera never get less jarring.Ā
Orange tag. Trash.
The next one is exactly the same.
Shit.Ā
Heās really bad to fall victim to the high speed shutter on this camera and often finds himself with a dozen copies of the same picture. Looks like heās done it again.
Orange.
More piercing eye contact.
What? He squints and flips back and forth between the last two photos.
Theyāre not even remotely similar. As a matter of fact, Steve was in a completely different location in the pit for the second one.Ā
Green tag. Come back to this.
Taking a long swig from his glass he shifts so his laptop is closer to his face. Thinks that surely heās not seeing this right.Ā
He takes to forgoing his tagging system and just flipping through every photo as fast as his fingers can press the arrow keys.
Heās clicked through about 200 when he starts getting worried, his heart rate speeding up. Surely he got something usable.
āWhat the fuck?ā
Heās clicked through 50 or 60 more when he decides that, no he did not fall victim to the shutter speed at all. This guy is just making direct eye contact with his camera in every single photo.
Steveās not mad, the opposite really. He didnāt spend much time looking at the guy during the show and now he gets to have an eyeful while he works. Whatās there to be mad about?Ā
He is, however, mildly concerned that he wonāt have a single decent photo to use for the venue socials when he posts about this show.
Whatever. Maybe fans of their music are also fans of uncomfortable eye contact. Who knows?
He finishes sifting through the rest of the photos, Eddie staring directly down the lens in every one, oneās where heās not the subject included. Throws them all in an editing software and mass edits them all at once. Heāll detail edit later.
While the eye contact was a little unsettling, he did get one photo heās particularly happy with. One that makes it look like the staring was on purpose.
Itās during the second to last song, a balladā or as close as you can get with a metal band. Eddieās standing center-stage and Steve had snagged the spot directly in front of him. Heās looking straight down, backlit with red spotlights, surrounded by smoke pumping from side-stage, and just close enough that Steve can see the sweat dripping down his neck. He looks a little bit scary, but thatās how Steve likes āem.Ā
Thatāll be the cover photo for sure.
He shoots an album link to his boss to review before he distributes them anywhere, then spendsĀ the next twenty minutes laughing to himself while he collects the goofiest photos of Eddie staring straight at his lens.
He puts them in a new album and copies the link.
When he opens up Instagram and searches Corroded Coffin he lets out a low whistle at the six million followers. Maybe he really should know who these guys are. With that many followers he doubts theyāll even see a message from his personal account, but whatever. He clicks on the message button on their profile and hits paste.
@ steveharrington.jpeg Great show tonight! Somebody tell this guy that he is allowed to look away from the camera thoughā¦
He only waits a few minutes for the reply.
@ corrodedcoffin HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU
@ corrodedcoffin Wait hang on
His phone pings with a message from a new account.
@ whoiseddiemunson HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU
@ whoiseddiemunson Sweetheart I wasnāt looking at the camera
Steve furrows his brows, confused. Starts typing a response but gets interrupted by another message.
@ whoiseddiemunson I was looking at the smoking hot guy behind it. Kinda hard to get a good look when heās hiding behind the camera though.
Steve feels his cheeks flush and huffs a laugh to himself.
@ steveharrington.jpeg Well the guy behind the camera did manage to get a few good ones even though he was under surveillance the whole show. Wanna see those?
@ whoiseddiemunson Hell yeah I do. I just scrolled through your profile, your work is amazing. Do you want to show me the rest? Maybe over coffee tomorrow?
Steve smiles. His earlier heart palpitations replaced with butterflies.
@ steveharrington.jpeg Is this a date?
@ whoiseddiemunson It better be












