Under the lense
This drabble is inspired by this post on Twitter about Photographer Katsuki Yuuri and model Victor.
###
“Is the photographer not here yet?” Victor whined as he slumped on the couch. He’s been on standby for ten minutes and this is unacceptable - very unacceptable.
He is Victor Nikiforov, the most sought after and highest paid model for five years - not that he wants to brag about himself this way but, damnit! even the water he accidentally posted on his instagram prompted the water company to pay him for how much profit they got after that one post!
To be honest, he was just really bored, he knew the photographer is pretty well known in the industry too. No more than ten in his crew and strictly no bystanders during his shoots, that’s the rule for Katsuki, the most sought after photographer who became famous after the shots he took of people he met - it is rumored that, if Katsuki likes you, your picture will end up in a gallery, one way or another - and that it would also get the highest bids, he doubts that, Victor believes that it’s the models that makes everything look good - not the photographer.
He still believes that.
Until he doesn’t.
“You want to take five Victor?” he heard Katsuki asked after their fifth shot.
“Why? Is something wrong?” he asked as he went towards the monitor.
Katsuki showed him the pictures - “I don’t see what’s wrong with the-” he started but he was cut-off when Yuuri suddenly pointed at the monitor and said, “There! You see?” before enlarging one of the photos and showing it to him one by one.
He couldn’t see what was wrong.
“There’s no emotions.” he heard the photographer say clear as day.
“What do you mean no emotions? Did you not see? On the first pane you said smile sweetly, on the second one, I’m smiling innocently!” he raged, only to be stopped by a hand over his chest as Katsuki calmly told him, “Your eyes are dead. You looked like you’re not having fun.”
And Victor wanted.
He wanted so much to deny that statement because how dare does this photographer tell that to him, after getting late and taking just FIVE pictures - he tells him, Victor Nikiforov, that his eyes are dead - as if he’s seen and read his very soul.
“Do you want to take that break?” he heard the photographer asked again.
This time, Victor has an answer, “Why don’t you accompany me to this break and tell me exactly how you want me to be? Otherwise, I can’t do this.”
He was surprised by his own bluntness.
He’s never been this honest.
But at the same time, he has never been told by someone something that he already knows. People always want him to do something for them - no one tells him about how dead he feels.
No one asks either.
Except, apparently, this photographer.
Interesting.
He saw the photographer smile and nodded and he felt his heart beat once or twice.
Very fast.
Interesting indeed.
