Photogenic

I wiped the sweat from my palms before checking my watch for the millionth time. The thirty minutes I'd been waiting had felt like a millennium and the waiting was not helping my nerves much. I had just barely graduated high school and yeah, photography had been my life for as long as I could remember, but the Daily Bugle? Why in the world would I think that my photos were good enough for the biggest newspaper in New York?

I straightened up as a sharply dressed woman hurried past me, filing through a stack of papers she had bunched up in her arms. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and frilly white blouse with a pair of shiny heels to match the ensemble. I, on the other hand looked nothing of the sort and became immediately self-conscious of my maroon capris, grey striped sweater, and worn vans. Maybe that was it, maybe I'd worn the wrong thing? Maybe I wasn't professionally dressed enough for this interview and they simply refused to see me?

I stood up gripping the strap to my satchel. This was a mistake, I should have started with something smaller like the local college newspaper.

"Madeline Rains?" I stopped, turning around too quickly at the sound of my name and tripping over my own feet. Thankfully, I was used to accidental self-harm and regained my balance rather quickly.

"Yes! Hi." J. Jonah Jameson was taller than I'd originally thought with graying dark hair and a toothbrush mustache. He looked mean, and highly unimpressed by my balancing act. I stopped just at the door, giving the best awkwardly cheerful smile I could muster. "Sorry." I hesitantly mumbled.

"Alright." He moved aside, ushering me into his highly disorganized office. I took a seat at the chair in front of his desk as he took his, popping a cigar into his mouth. "What do ya got kid?" He asked leaning comfortably back in his chair.

"Right." I fumbled for my satchel, desperately trying to obtain my photographs as smoothly as possible. "These are a few I'd taken back in high school." I explained laying the photos on his desk. He frowned, moving the photos aside. "These," I'd tried to save the best for last though I was beginning to feel like I'd have a difficult time impressing Jameson with my work, "are from that big fire over on 32nd a few weeks ago." I placed the photos where my others had previously lay. I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. This time, he actually looked at the photos, picking each individual one up. I felt sick.

"Wasn't Spider Man at that fire?" His voice was harsh, bossy in a scary way and I wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question or if he really wanted me to answer. After an awkward pause he looked up at me from behind one of my photographs.

"Yes, I believe so. I didn't arrive until afterwards, but I do have some photos of the arsonists after uh, Spider Man..." he was giving me a bored stare and I felt my stomach drop into my feet, "stopped them." I nervously coughed avoiding eye contact.

"Listen, sweetheart; no one cares about who committed the crime anymore." That was it. I bombed it, I just bombed my only chance to join the Daily Bugle. I reached for my photographs. "Hey, I like your work kid." I froze.

"Really?" I choked. By his reaction those definitely hadn't been the words I'd expected to come out of his mouth.

"You want a job? Bring me photos of Spider Man." He took a puff from his cigar, giving a motion towards the door. Was this... was this really happening right now? Was this my chance? I stood up, speechless. All I had to do was snap a photo of Spider Man and my future was secure.

"Right! Yes!" I stood up, accidentally bumping his desk and knocking over a paperweight. "Sorry," I motioned for the figure as he caught it, placing it back on his desk. "I will not let you down Mr. Jameson." He gave a frown as I fumbled for my bag, tripping over the chair as I backed up towards the door. "Thank you, so much." I added, letting the door swing shut behind me.

I couldn't believe this, the editor and chief of the Daily Bugle liked my work! I stepped into the elevator, smiling like an idiot at the man beside me. I didn't care; I was in, my big break. The Daily Bugle today, National Geographic tomorrow. There was just... one thing.

"How the hell am I suppose to find Spider Man?" I breathed as the elevator door dinged closed. Spider Man? The guy was a freaking shadow, how in the world was I going to find him?

"Sorry?"

"I'm screwed, royally screwed! This was my shot." I answered, looking over to the guy. I blushed, looking back down at my feet. He was cute, tall, fit, messy brown hair. "Of course you're gorgeous." I literally said that out loud. "Please kill me." I added, tapping the stop button on the elevator. I needed to disappear.

The guy laughed, but I couldn't tell what he was doing as I couldn't muster the courage to look at him.

"Peter Parker." Was he actually communicating with me after my word vomit? "I tend to take pictures of Spider Man, so... it isn't impossible." The elevator dinged and I looked up as Peter stepped out, giving me a smile and a short wave. He took photos of Spider Man? Right, because obviously someone does. Maybe I wasn't completely screwed. I never told him my name.

"Oh, I'm Madeli-!" I noticed him still smiling as the silver doors closed together.

That was my floor.