“So… How was your day?” he asked when the sun and even its stubborn last rays disappeared behind the horizon.

“Fulfilling,” you said in a purring voice. “Those golden hours sure make things look pretty.”

“Me included?”

“Your goddamn leather jacket included.”

“My ‘goddamn’ leather jacket? What did it do to you?”

It looks too ing hot on you, that’s what it does, for ’s sake. “Its zipper made a few unwanted reflections. I’ll have to remove that…”

“Oh. Sorry.”

You stretched, being a bit tired of having your camera around your neck. Not that the Canon EF 50mm f/1.4 USM was very heavy, but it sure was heavier than the kit lens you had used in the first weeks to get used to taking photos with this camera, and it was a bit tough for your neck.

“It’s okay, I guess. It’ll be my job when I’ll be completely done with school.”

“But you’re in graphic design…”

“You too, and you’re a singer.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’m going to Collège Marsan after I’m done here. It’ll cost me an arm, preferably the left one, and both legs if necessary, but I want to go there and become a professional photographer.”

He stayed silent a little. “Wouldn’t it be better, and a lot less expensive, to just go to Quebec City and get a DEP instead of an AEC in a private college?”

You sighed. “Not necessarily better, but a lot less expensive, that’s for sure.”

“Then why not go to Quebec City?”

“I’m not leaving Montreal. It took me two years and a half to really start exploring it… and it has a lot more potential to it that I haven’t discovered yet. I’m not leaving…”

You bit your lower lip softly, sitting on a nearby bench. Eli’s words had woken up worries you hadn’t though about for… a long time. Your parents kept nagging you, wanting you to keep going into graphic design at university, but you… it wasn’t that you hated graphic design, but it wasn’t your future job, and you knew that. When you held a camera, even a simple little reflex like the one Eli had bought you, you felt like this was right. When trying to make the best photos out of Eli, your only model so far, you had fun. When walking around, even without your reflex, you caught on every little detail and wanted to immortalize everything, from that cat looking at you with pure blue eyes, to maple water slowly flowing down the tree and shining in the delicate sunlight of a beautiful, calm spring. You had always observed those little details, but it had taken you a long time before understanding who you truly wanted to be in life.

But this… you weren’t sure your parents would agree with that. Your father clearly thought photography was a game, not a profession. And even if they did agree to let you become a photographer… would they accept paying your studies in a private college? It would cost as much as the time in a university, if not more. The only difference in price would be that, instead of spending three years and more doing something you didn’t like, you’d spend fourteen months doing something you just loved. Would it be enough to convince your parents? You doubted it. And it worried you. What would happen after this? The future scared you. Not enough to wake you up at night, but you had those moments of utter fear when you thought about the future. You didn’t want to move out of Montreal. You wanted to be a photographer. You wanted to go to this college because it combined both of your desires. But then, you’d need to find somewhere to live. And a job to pay it. But, more stressful was the uncertainty that your parents would even accept what you wanted to do…

“Hey… are you okay?”

You got out of your thoughts, trying to control your worries. But you still looked at Eli with desperate eyes.

“Eli…”

He frowned. You rarely used his name. When you called him that, he knew it was something serious.

“What is it?”

“What will I become?”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You’re here, studying seemingly just for fun, but you have a real job. I don’t. I don’t even have a part-time job. Living in Montreal is expensive. The college I want to go to is expensive. My parents don’t want me to become a photographer…”

“…”

“Eli, I’m scared…”

“Scared?”

“Scared. Afraid of the future. Terrified, even, I’d say… I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m already in my last year of graphic design. I need to choose now, or at least soon…”

He stayed silent for a few minutes. “I don’t know how I can help you… I can pray for you.”

“I don’t think it’ll work. My dad’s more stubborn than God himself, or whatever. I don’t really believe in this. Men invented religion to reassure themselves. That’s what I think.”

“I can still pray for you.”

“Feel free to, but I’m sure that’s all bull.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad Kevin’s not there to hear this… this guy is a desperate case. You’ve seen his Twitter, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So you know what I mean, and I’m not just saying this and seeming completely stupid.”

“Nah, I know what you mean.”

“Good.”

“It still doesn’t help me knowing what I’ll do.”

“Well, I’d say that you just go on with the flow of life for now. You’re busy enough as it is. Think about it later. Plus, you seemed happy earlier. So, keep this day for being happy, and another day for being sad. Like this, it won’t spoil the day.”

You glared at him, getting up, clenching your teeth.

“What, so I won’t ruin that beautiful day of yours?! So you won’t need to listen to me complaining?! Fine, then I’ll go be sad and stressed out and scared of the future in my room! Go yourself!”

You turned and walked away, shaking. You didn’t know why you had snapped at him so quickly. But it sure didn’t help that he totally sounded like he didn’t want you to be stressed out on this day just so he could relax happily and all…

“What a jerk,” you mumbled, rushing to the metro.

Not that he was really a jerk. But you needed to find yourself an excuse for being this mad at him. That, and he had stolen your first kiss, pretended to like you, and now he was just saying this and not being helpful at all when you clearly had problems thinking about your future…

“Hey, wait up!”

You accelerated, refusing to wait for him. He caught up, however, since he had much longer legs than you, and he grabbed your arm. You turned, snapping at him, brutally pushing his hand away.

“Don’t ing touch me!”

“I told you to wait!”

“I won’t wait for someone who just… who just… can’t do about what I’m saying… someone who…”

You looked away. “Someone who doesn’t seem to give a about my problems. Call me a narcissist if you want to, I don’t care… I just… I just-”

“You’re scared of the future. I got that. But I’m telling you to go with the flow of life, okay?”

You growled, glaring at him. “I can’t! Easy for you to say that, you already have a job, a REAL job, you make a lot of money, you’re even studying here just for the fun of doing it, for ’s sake! You’re buying cameras and lenses and things like nobody’s business, but I can’t do that! I don’t have the money you have, I don’t have the confidence you have, I don’t have the job you have, I don’t have, heck, the parents you have! You just… dropped out and left and had fun and ate ramen and learned Mandarin and kept on studying alone far from home where nobody would control your life! I can’t do this!”

He stayed silent for a moment, and you could see that you had kind of hurt him. Maybe school was a sensitive subject…

“Living alone at the other end of the world wasn’t easy, you know,” he said softly, his dark eyes filled with sadness. “America and Asia are a lot farther from each other than Montreal and Quebec.”

“I don’t give a ,” you growled. “I’m going home. I’m not a strong person. I just want things to be easy and to go my way for once… and you’re definitely not part of the ‘going my way’. If life were going my way, you wouldn’t even exist.”

You turned and left, sad and frustrated. He caught up to you again, but before you could push him away, he made you face him and pressed a kiss on your lips.

“To give you courage,” he whispered in your ear before he let you go.

You started shaking more, ending up punching him right in the face before leaving, furiously wiping your lips with your arm, disgusted. Why had you thought that this guy was okay? Why had you stopped hating him? He was a jerk. Just a jerk…

Just a sad-eyed, hot jerk with a sensitive heart you had probably just attacked straight on with cheap, hurtful words.