The courtyard of Arvoredo Academy was soaked in a lazy, golden light. Late afternoon. Perfect for photos. Perfect for mistakes.
“Light, camera, focus.”
Luna crouched near a cracked flower pot, trying to find an interesting angle. The camera in her hands felt like a wild animal — it didn’t trust her, and the feeling was mutual.
“Getting low doesn’t make the photo better. Unless you’re shooting ants,” said Niko, stopping beside her with a mirrorless camera as black as his sense of humor.
“Maybe I like ants,” Luna replied, not taking her eye off the viewfinder.
He chuckled, surprised. “Alright. ISO 100, aperture f/4.5, shutter speed 1/60. Light’s good. But you’re shaking.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because you’re breathing like you just ran a marathon. Relax. Photography isn’t a ticking bomb.”
Meanwhile, Davi was lying practically flat on the ground, trying to photograph a spider between some leaves using macro mode. “She’s posing for me, I swear!”
The shy new girl — the one Vicente had handed the old camera to — was doing her best to catch a dragonfly mid-flight. But soon her attention was captured by a large, stunning blue butterfly.
Júlia, on the other hand, had already done a full portrait shoot, with Zoe as her unwilling model.
“Just one more with this side light! It’s got indie album cover energy,” Júlia said, clicking non-stop.
Zoe, stiff as a gothic statue, muttered, “If you want a career, you’re gonna have to pay me in coffee.”
Vicente watched from a distance, coffee in hand, wearing the kind of smile that only people who pretend not to know what they’re doing can pull off.
At the end of the 15 minutes, the students returned with their photos saved and ready for judgment.
In the makeshift darkroom, Vicente projected the images onto the wall, one by one.
Davi’s photo was good—but blurry.
“Shutter speed too slow. Trying to do expressionist macro now?”
Júlia’s was aesthetically perfect, but something was missing.
“Nice light, but… where’s the moment? It’s too staged.”
Niko’s was absurdly technical. Window reflection, double exposure.
Vicente just muttered, “Show-off.”
The shy girl’s photo was of the blue butterfly flying between branches. The light passed through the insect’s wings, casting delicate shadows that danced and flowed like liquid over the bark of the tree.
“Effortlessly enchanting,” Vicente said.
And then came Luna’s.
It was a torn leaf caught on a branch. Light filtered through the holes, casting shadowy patterns on the wall behind it. Simple. But there was something in it — a careful eye.
Hush.
Silence.
Vicente took a sip of his coffee. Then said:
“Someone here just started to see.”
Luna blushed. Niko wrinkled his nose, hiding a smile.
Vicente turned off the projector. “Tomorrow, we’ll talk about composition. Rule of thirds, lines, rhythm. Today you started learning to control light. And light…”
He raised one finger, dramatically.
“…is the mother of photography. The father is failure. And you’re all going to get to know both of them very well.”
The class left the room laughing.
In the hallway, Niko approached Luna. “That was luck, wasn’t it?”
“It was looking,” she said. “You should try it.”
He grinned. “Touché.”
Professor Vicente watched from a safe distance.
“Well, well…”
There, among dusty lenses, self-doubt, and bad jokes, a triangle was beginning to form.
Not the exposure one.
The other one.
***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***
Download
Like this story? Download the app to keep your reading history.
Comments