Gutter ***s
The Hunt
-October-
I sit on the floor of the guys’ apartment with a new paper spread out in front of me. I circle another job that I could apply for. Its been four months since I got my college degree for photography and I’m still working at the goddamn restaurant.
The door swings open, frightening me for a second, but my nerves calm when I see its Tre. The grin on his face is enough to make me laugh.
“Lisea!” he exclaims happily, “You wouldn’t believe the drum set they have at the recording studio! There were cowbells and like I got to choose from three floor toms and oh man you should’ve seen how many cymbals there were.”
“Awesome.” I say standing up and hugging him happily, “Did you guys record anything?”
“Erm, no.” Tre says sheepishly, “Well you know, me and the oodles of cymbals, the ten guitars Billie and Mike were exposed to, not to mention the sound pedal, no.” we laugh lightly as I carefully pull myself away from him, “What did you do all day?” I look down at the news paper on the floor.
“Job searching.”
“Oh.” He says with a guilty look on his face, “Anything good?”
“No.” I sigh as he heads into the kitchen, “I honestly feel like sending my portfolio to every goddamn magazine and news paper in a hundred miles!”
“Then do it.” He says grabbing a soda out of the fridge.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I mutter as he chugs half the can.
“Fine, don’t send it to Mechanics Monthly, that just doesn’t seem like your scene.” He says as he downs the rest of his soda.
I stare at the man in front of me for a second and realize he’s right. The more I send out the more publicity I get.
“I think you may actually be right.”
“I’m always right.” He says crossing his arms, “One of those big shot editor people are bound to call you to take pictures of lame stuff.” I laugh, “Oh! You should take a picture of my ass.”
“No, that’s disturbing.”
“I have a very sexy ass!”
“Yeah sexy, not presentable.” I mock, “I wanna get a real job, not a porn photographer.”
“OH! You should so do that, I’ll be your model!” he exclaims happily.
“You’re mine! All mine!” Screech as I hop onto his back.
“Oh yeah, ride me a like a . . .a . . . I don’t know.” He rambles.
“Go tiger go!” I laugh as he tosses his can into the sink and starts going round the kitchen. He stops suddenly, and I see why, as Mike and Anastasia stare at us for a moment.
“Hey Ana, why don’t we go to your place.” Mike says after clearing his throat.
“Yeah, I think that’s best.” Ana agrees.
I sit on the floor of the guys’ apartment with a new paper spread out in front of me. I circle another job that I could apply for. Its been four months since I got my college degree for photography and I’m still working at the goddamn restaurant.
The door swings open, frightening me for a second, but my nerves calm when I see its Tre. The grin on his face is enough to make me laugh.
“Lisea!” he exclaims happily, “You wouldn’t believe the drum set they have at the recording studio! There were cowbells and like I got to choose from three floor toms and oh man you should’ve seen how many cymbals there were.”
“Awesome.” I say standing up and hugging him happily, “Did you guys record anything?”
“Erm, no.” Tre says sheepishly, “Well you know, me and the oodles of cymbals, the ten guitars Billie and Mike were exposed to, not to mention the sound pedal, no.” we laugh lightly as I carefully pull myself away from him, “What did you do all day?” I look down at the news paper on the floor.
“Job searching.”
“Oh.” He says with a guilty look on his face, “Anything good?”
“No.” I sigh as he heads into the kitchen, “I honestly feel like sending my portfolio to every goddamn magazine and news paper in a hundred miles!”
“Then do it.” He says grabbing a soda out of the fridge.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I mutter as he chugs half the can.
“Fine, don’t send it to Mechanics Monthly, that just doesn’t seem like your scene.” He says as he downs the rest of his soda.
I stare at the man in front of me for a second and realize he’s right. The more I send out the more publicity I get.
“I think you may actually be right.”
“I’m always right.” He says crossing his arms, “One of those big shot editor people are bound to call you to take pictures of lame stuff.” I laugh, “Oh! You should take a picture of my ass.”
“No, that’s disturbing.”
“I have a very sexy ass!”
“Yeah sexy, not presentable.” I mock, “I wanna get a real job, not a porn photographer.”
“OH! You should so do that, I’ll be your model!” he exclaims happily.
“You’re mine! All mine!” Screech as I hop onto his back.
“Oh yeah, ride me a like a . . .a . . . I don’t know.” He rambles.
“Go tiger go!” I laugh as he tosses his can into the sink and starts going round the kitchen. He stops suddenly, and I see why, as Mike and Anastasia stare at us for a moment.
“Hey Ana, why don’t we go to your place.” Mike says after clearing his throat.
“Yeah, I think that’s best.” Ana agrees.