CHAPTER ONE - BELLA
I’ve seen the world through a camera lens from as early as I could remember.
I couldn’t help but be drawn toward the beauty around me. For whatever reason, I felt the need to document it in a timeless photograph that could speak to others, and maybe even spark a moment of serenity in their hearts.
Yes, it all sounds very artsy-fartsy, even hippie-ish . But I couldn’t help myself. I was who I was.
My mother saw it in me before I did. Even with pressure from well-meaning teachers, attempting to dissuade me from what they saw as a simple hobby, Mom always told me to screw what they thought and go after what was in my heart.
“Bella, you have a fire in you,” she’d told me at a young age. “You don’t realize it now, but you will change the lives of others with your talents. Promise me and, more importantly, promise yourself that you’ll always go after your dreams, no matter how hard the journey.”
Yep, she was pretty much the best mom on earth.
And now the best mom in heaven.
She’d done a damn good job raising me all on her own, and I hoped and prayed that someday when I had my own children, I could be half the mom she was.
May her precious heart rest in peace.
Fast forward to present day, and I’m nowhere near where I’d imagined I’d be at my age. On paper one would think I was nuts for even complaining about my situation.
Engaged to a good, beautiful wealthy man.
A big princess wedding only months away.
And an even bigger rock on my left hand.
I’m not one to lack appreciation for the lavish life I was living, but I felt my confidence dwindling day by day in my fiancé Gavin’s presence. Gavin’s constant berating and trivialization of my interests had all but destroyed the passion I had left for my art.
He would never admit to it, but he essentially saw me as his trophy wife. In his eyes, my job was to sit quietly and look pretty. He didn’t mind me having a side hobby or two, but he didn’t like the idea of me pursing my dream of becoming a widely influential artist. He knew how much it would take, and that simply didn’t align well with his plan for life.
He did everything he could to diminish the flames that sparked inside of me. Now, as I look at myself in the mirror, I can barely recognize the girl I once knew. It was the thought of losing that last bit of fire that scared the fuck out of me.
“This place is a dump, Bella.” Gavin had curled his lip at my friend’s place for the second time that evening. The first time was when we drove up and parked outside, and now I’d hoped he’d keep his voice low enough that the other artists present wouldn’t hear. There were writers, painters, and other photographers within earshot.
A friend of mine from my photography class owned the coffee shop, so I hoped he wouldn’t throw his countless insults this direction, but that was a proving to be a major fail at this point. The truth was the coffee shop was one of the best and busiest shops in the city, and the patrons had all built such a camaraderie that they were like a small family. It would take a complete asshole not to appreciate the charm it had to offer. Today Gavin was that asshole.
Kayla finally showed, and I breathed a sigh of relief as she crossed the room. My best friend would be just the lift I needed.
“This is awesome! I’m sure you’ve already sold a ton of copies of the journal, right?” she asked enthusiastically.
“She’s signed five and two of those were for the same woman. She has only sold one print.” Gavin smirked.
Why am I with this dickhead anyway? I asked myself.
“She bought the books for her daughters,” I said, in attempt to sway the direction of the conversation back to something positive.
I smiled remembering the older woman who had seemed way out of her element. She had come across town to buy copies of my photography collection for her daughters, who were avid readers. Both had enjoyed my collections in the past and owned a few prints, so she’d wanted to surprise them.
My book was a passion project. I wanted to do something different and had one of my earlier collections made into a journal that told stories from my childhood with my mother. I had thought about it since her death and finally made the dream into a reality. It meant a lot to me that others would now get to see it.
“I still think giving away too many of your images in one sale is a bad idea. Even if it is one collection.” Gavin had failed to see many of my ideas as practical, and he measured success solely on money.
“I think the journals were a really cool way to showcase those older pieces. It’s a gorgeous book, and it’s not like it’s your entire collection,” Kayla said, rolling her eyes at Gavin. She was always the positive influence in my life. I thanked my lucky stars for her, because her positivity was all I had left to hold on to after my mom’s passing. Kayla, much like my mom, had the ability to see things in me that I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see in myself.
“Frankly, it wouldn’t matter what you were trying to showcase here. It’d be lost on the tacky setting. I’d ask the owners to turn the lights up, but no telling what kind of crap the bad lighting is hiding in this place,” Gavin said.
About that time, I turned to see the owner and my friend turning to duck out in the other direction. From the looks on their faces and their body language, they’d heard every cheap shot Gavin had taken.