by Alexa Woods
She felt horribly guilty for even stopping to peruse Laney’s stupid profile. Chelsea never would have known about any of this if she had just scrolled on past.
“I know, but in life we have to do things we don’t want to do.”
“Gee,” Morgun grumbled. “I haven’t heard that a thousand times before from every annoying person on the planet.”
“Should I go with suck it up, pupple dup?”
Morgun’s lips twitched despite herself. Morgun’s dad was famous for going with the old, terrible, suck it up, buttercup, but Chelsea had changed it in mockery and now it was their own private joke. Morgun even said it in a deep voice, just like Chelsea’s dad used when he brought out the good old buttercup lecture.
“No, that would be much worse! Thank you for not saying that for real.”
“You’re welcome. But, Morgun?”
“Yeah?”
“Suck it up, pupple dup.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 6
Laney
Jason’s wedding was in two days and Laney knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was absolutely, unequivocally fucked.
Two other women basically told her to go eff herself when she suggested going to the wedding with her as a fake date of sorts for payment. They both, oddly enough, shared the same sentiment that Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498 had. In essence, no one liked it.
So now, she was sitting on her computer, out of options. It was too late to go out to a club or a bar or anywhere else to try to find a date. It was too late to get on another site. It was too late to meet up with anyone else.
Laney wasn’t sure why she was checking her inbox on the dating site one last time. She would have made fun of herself if she was hearing this story from someone else. She would have called herself ultra-pathetic. Did her mom know that she wouldn’t be able to get a date? Was she laying down a challenge that Laney couldn’t help but pick up and fail at? Was she so clairvoyant that she knew Laney was going to have zero fight left in her by the time of the wedding and that talk of families and dating and babies would be allowed to continue because she’d lost a bet of sorts?
No. Her mom wouldn’t do that to her. Her mom wasn’t mean like that. Her mom loved her, even if she was a little misguided with that love. She just couldn’t imagine anyone having a career outside the home that they willingly chose over having love and raising children.
Her mom really was the best mom. She’d been a stay at home mom since she got pregnant with Jason and she’d loved every minute of it. That was how their family worked. Her mom ran the household. Her dad worked outside of it. They both contributed, and her mom was right. Often, she had the harder job of the two. Staying up with sick, barfy kids, changing poopy diapers, listening to the fighting between siblings, cleaning up scrapes and cuts, teaching them both how to read before they ever went off to school, helping tirelessly with homework, baking for bake sales, doing school projects, crafting on weekends, decorating the house, cleaning, cooking, making lunches, supervising on field trips…
It was all so overwhelming to Laney when she thought about it all like that. She knew that all of it was spaced out over eighteen years, but she just couldn’t imagine it. She wasn’t even good with kids. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever held one of her friends’ babies when they offered.
She knew what she was good at. Photography. She’d been interested in it since she took it in high school. Both as a photography class and in physics, when they’d made their own pin hole box cameras and developed the photos in the dark room. All her work was digital, of course, but she’d been hooked ever since she picked up a camera and was challenged to see the world in a different way.
Why wasn’t it okay to just be good at that? To want that? To be successful?
Her mom had accepted everything about her. When she’d come out to her at fourteen, her mom was her biggest source of support. She loved her unconditionally and got her through the rough years of high school. She’d accepted it without so much as a blink and with a huge hug and the kindest words. So why couldn’t she accept it when Laney told her that she didn’t want to have kids.? She knew she’d break her mom’s heart if she was completely honest with her, so she always avoided that discussion.
She’d never seen herself with a family. Then again, she’d never seen herself not with one either. She just assumed that one day, like everyone else in the world, she’d meet the right person, the one she knew was it, and if she wanted to have children, that would be fine with Laney because she might want to share that with her.
It was just that she hadn’t found the one yet, so it was impossible to even think about choosing to enter into that world. Everyone she’d ever dated, she’d either done it casually, or known it wasn’t going to work out. Her longest relationship lasted six months.
Most people couldn’t handle how dedicated she was to her work. They called her a workaholic, but Laney reasoned that it wasn’t her fault that her schedule was set at least a year in advance and a lot of it involved early mornings, late nights, tons of extra work, and traveling. In the last two years, the women she met knew that, yet somehow, they still used it as an excuse to end things when it wasn’t working out.
Laney wasn’t sure why she was logging on or why it even mattered to her so much. Maybe it was because she was never one to let a challenge go unanswered. Maybe she really did crave the peace and quiet that badly.
What does it even matter? I’m never going to get a date now anyway.
When she logged on, she wasn’t surprised to see a few new messages. They trickled in daily, fewer and fewer with each passing day, as she suspected, but she was shocked to see one from Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498.
She was tired from work. She had a pile of editing to do, and she had to be up early for a job that she’d agreed to last minute. Plus, there was the added stress of going to the family dinner that her mom had planned for the night before the wedding, not to mention the wedding itself.
Then, like a big bag of poop dropped on her doorstep and lit on fire, Christmas was waiting around the corner. Even though Laney knew that it was Natasha who wanted to have a Christmas wedding, since she wanted the wedding day to fall on the date that she and Jason started dating, Laney still cursed her brother for doing this to her.
Laney only allowed herself to hesitate for a few seconds. Her curiosity made it impossible not to click. She needed a good dose of comedy. If the message was one chewing her out, she could handle that. She’d even be amused by it. Unlike some people, she wasn’t easily hurt or offended. Her dry sense of humor allowed her to appreciate the grouchier details in life. And maybe she deserved a good chewing out a little. She had felt bad after that woman left the coffee shop. She hadn’t even asked her name before she started in, like an idiot, with her list of demands. Was it any wonder she’d walked out the way she had?
Laney had admired more than the woman’s courage. Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498 was even more beautiful in person than she was in her selfies, just as Laney had anticipated. She hadn’t anticipated the slight shiver when she sat down or the way she couldn’t tear her eyes from the other woman’s face. She kept thinking about all the ways she’d like to position her for a photo. No, that wasn’t distracting at all. Not at all.
And then Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498 had given Laney a piece of her mind and stormed out. Showing spirit. Grit. A real backbone. It took a lot of courage for anyone to basically flip Laney off without ever raising the bird.
Laney wasn’t surprised to find, as she clicked the message, that she had a grudging amount of respect for Miss Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498.
After two years working in her industry, which was both fast paced, competitive, and often involved some out there, cutting edge ideas, very little shocked Laney anymore.
But she was shocked. Because that message from Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498 wasn’t one berating her or telling her to go fuck herself again, n
or explaining to her in a detailed format what a bad person she was. No. The message was blunt, to the point, and saved Laney’s bacon big time. If she was willing to play. And God, she was willing to play.
She read the message again, then again, then one more time.
I’ve thought about your offer and I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want cash. That still makes me feel cheap, and I feel like putting a price tag on yourself is vile and degrading. I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. I knew before I saw you face to face.
The thing is, I’m a photographer too. I’ve been looking to break into the industry and do more high-profile shoots and work for a long time now. I want the chance to be a true artist. I want to make a better living. I don’t need people to know my name, but I do want steady work that pays me what I’m worth. I want more challenges. I want to learn and grow. I don’t want to wake up and do the same thing over and over and over. I’ve wanted to be a photographer since I was three years old.
I’m willing to go to the wedding with you, as your date, and be however fake you need me to be, but what I want in return is a chance. I want contacts. I want you to arrange a meeting with someone who will look at my work. Or someones. Plural. I want proof of this before the wedding, not after. I’m not taking your word for it. I want names. Numbers. At least ten people.
I know you don’t understand, because why would you ever think about the people below you, but you owe me. Big time. Anyway, if you choose to accept the deal, you can message me back and we’ll hash out the details. If not, then good luck with the wedding, and I really mean that, not in a sarcastic, mean way, but in a real way because I’m a good person who cares about other people, even the bad ones.
Laney appreciated her directness. She never would have guessed that Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498 was a photographer. She felt guilty for the meanness behind the thought, but she automatically assumed that the other woman probably wasn’t very good. She probably did the studio style family photos that no one was interested in getting because they were terrible and boring and made everyone look awful.
Can I really give this lady my contacts? Can I have the people who know me and respect me, people I work with, big names in the industry, contact someone who probably isn’t very good?
Yes, she decided. She could. She’d tell them she needed a favor. A big one. That if they could just spend a few minutes looking through this chick’s portfolio, she’d put in whatever work they wanted her to do for a week, for free. A trade in kind. She’d give them her skill and her art, sans pay, in return for that small favor. Maybe some of them would just do it. She knew a couple people at her agency who weren’t bad. They were inundated with samples and requests, but if she submitted something, then they’d be interested and would take a look.
She decided she’d have to see the work first. If it was terrible, then the deal was off. She couldn’t stick her neck out that far and risk everything she’d worked her ass off to build. The one thing that mattered to her more than anything. Her name. Her reputation as an artist.
She thought for a few minutes before she responded to the message.
Send me three of your shots. I can’t arrange a meeting without having something for someone to look at. I won’t give out my contacts to just anyone either. I don’t think you would appreciate having to call a stranger for no apparent reason or having your name and number given out to just anyone. Actually, send me five of your best shots. If I think they’re good enough to pass along, I’ll do it. We can go from there.
Laney exhaled all the breath she didn’t realize she’d locked up in her lungs. She hadn’t taken a breath the whole time she’d spent typing. Since she was using her tablet, it was indeed a long time. One fingering it on the flat keyboard on the screen wasn’t like using a laptop where she could power through.
She was about to exit out of the app when her inbox lit up with a response. She went back to holding her breath and clicked on the message. There was no written response. Just an attachment, which she clicked.
Five photos. Three black and white, two in color. One still of a tumbledown barn and an ancient tractor, almost impossible to find anywhere close to the city, one of a decrepit brick building in some city, and three photos of people. Not models. Regular people.
All five of them stole what little breath she still had left.
Holy. Freaking. Rainbows. And. Unicorns.
The shots weren’t just good. They were incredible. Far beyond what Laney had expected. Some of them were even better than anything she could do. Well, maybe not better, but different. A unique perspective amongst the professionals she worked with. Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498 definitely had a way of seeing things that wasn’t like anyone else.
Laney thought about what the woman would be like to photograph, or more on point, how she wanted to photograph her, but now she thought that she wouldn’t mind being the one photographed. And Laney hated being the subject. She loved being the one behind the lens but was typically shy about being in front of it.
Laney didn’t have to even think about her response. It came to her automatically.
These are surprisingly good. You have a deal. I’ll arrange for someone to call you first thing tomorrow and I’ll send you a few other contacts within the hour. If you’re serious about this, I need to pick you up at one on Saturday. I’ll be wearing black, because I don’t care that it’s a wedding, not a funeral, but you can wear whatever you want. We don’t need to match.
Almost as an afterthought, Laney decided to try and end the message on a less demanding, happier, more considerate note. Thank you for doing this.
She clicked send.
A minute later, a response came in with nothing but an address typed out.
Chapter 7
Morgun
Now that things were rolling, Morgun was more than a little intimidated by the thought of having to follow through and uphold her end of the deal. She’d received a call from someone who worked at the very agency she’d applied with two years ago, promising to look at her portfolio if she brought it in. They’d set up a date for next Wednesday. She received a list of other contacts, which, Laney claimed, was the best she could do on short notice. Since she had an interview of sorts, Morgun considered it close enough to fulfilling her terms.
She’d been unable to sleep the night before and had finally crawled out of bed at just after five in the morning. She’d spent the time editing photos from a family photoshoot she’d had the day before, making herself a huge breakfast that she didn’t even eat, and eventually getting ready.
She was slightly ashamed to admit that she’d literally typed best forms of revenge into an internet search bar. The lists were less than helpful, but she did come across one tip she really liked. The best form of vengeance was to show the other person how well you were doing. That was usually for an ex, but whatever.
Morgun took the advice to heart and spent hours curling her hair into immaculate ringlets, applying a full face of makeup that was done so tactfully a real makeup artist could have done it, and picking out a dress that showed off her body. She might not be as tall or model looking as Laney Sterling, but she did run three times a week for an hour every morning, and she did yoga in her apartment every single day for over an hour as a way to de-stress and help out her muscles, which were often cramped from sitting and editing photos for hours at a time.
She’d picked a long black maxi dress. It totally wasn’t something she’d wear to anyone else’s wedding. The dress was both flowy and somehow clung to her curves. It was just a plain cotton/poly mix that, when paired with a sparkly clutch, dangly earrings, and her hair and makeup, looked almost nice enough to wear to a much more formal function. She’d done something wicked and decided not to wear panties, since even her thong strap could be seen from the outside of the dress. The thing was floor length so she figured there could be no wardrobe malfunction, so why not go commando?
Laney said she was wearing black. Sh
e said they didn’t have to match, so of course Morgun took it upon herself to also wear black. Just because she thought it would annoy Laney.
As she stood in front of the cheap full-length mirror that she’d taped to the back of her tiny walk in closet, Morgun had to admit she looked good. Really good. She’d knock her own socks off, if she was wearing socks. Which she wasn’t. She decided to give herself a small break and had gone with a set of black flip flops with sparkly straps. They could hardly be seen from beneath the pool of fabric anyway.
When her buzzer went off, Morgun jumped, then stared at herself in the mirror and giggled. She hadn’t given Laney her number to text her. Just the buzzer number. She knew that would probably piss her off too. Having to touch the grimy buzzer. Just having to pick her up from a neighborhood that wasn’t trendy or up and coming probably made Laney’s hair stand on end.
Good. All the things that Morgun could do to stick little pins into Laney, she was going to do. She might have forgiven her for getting the job she wanted if she had turned out to be a nice person when they’d met at the coffee shop, but nope. She wasn’t nice. She was the exact opposite of nice. Raging biotch came to mind, but even that seemed too good to describe her.
Morgun took her time getting to the buzzer. She didn’t press the door open, but just spoke into the speaker, promising to be right down. After which she spent a good five minutes gathering up the clutch she’d already packed with her phone, ID, her credit card, a small amount of cash, and her apartment key.
When she finally made it downstairs and out the front door, Morgun took an even greater amount of satisfaction in Laney’s red cheeks and tense posture. Laney turned at hearing the door, and Morgun watched her annoyance fade and something else flash across her face. Morgun did know what it was to be checked out. Laney did it, blatantly and appreciatively. She made no secret of looking her up and down, from her feet back up to her face. Now the flush coloring her cheeks was something different entirely.
