Wherever You Are

My high school journalism teacher used to say, "if someone tells you that they love your work, they are lying. There is always something to prove." That was the start of my photographic career: being told that I was never going to be good enough, but that I was still going to do just fine. It makes sense because no matter how you try to spin it, photography is the strangest business to be in. The first big project I'd had was shooting actor Anthony Thompson for a small magazine. I set up a studio in a hotel conference room and his schedule only allowed me twenty minutes with him. It was a terrible time crunch and in the end, I felt like I had failed everyone. Mr. Thompson looked over the photos, and he surprised me. He stared straight into my eyes and said "kid, you have no idea where this is gonna take you." He was right. In just three years, I've accomplished a lot for a photographer. This tour, however, was going to be my biggest project ever. It wasn't just about capturing the performances, it was about capturing the behind the scenes stuff as well. If everything looked good, Dani was hoping to print photobooks that would help expand the brand. I was happy to help in any way that I could, especially for how much she was paying me. I'd worked with her previously, albeit rather briefly. It was for an article in Cosmopolitan and I'd been passed the assignment when the other photographer quit. Dani said that she fell in love with me that day because I was fun and gave good direction. In fact, she offered me the assignment of being tour photographer before anyone else. I was proud, and I was definitely excited. But I have a secret to tell you, and it's a big one. I didn't agree to be on tour because Dani Weston is a huge star. I didn't even agree because I wanted the travel.

It wasn't too long ago, but it felt like a lifetime before. I was in Los Angeles shooting 5 Seconds of Summer for their broadcast debut. It required two twelve hour days, but they made my job easy. Two days was all it took to make new friends, and I don't blame them. In what is perhaps the largest industry in the world, it is so hard to meet people your age. I'm only nineteen, and it seems that everyone successful is well over forty and married with children. It was something that Calum pointed out to me the first time I'd been invited to the house they were renting. It was the first time that anyone really thought I was worth hanging out with. I'm not annoying, or creepy, or awkward. I'm merely so busy that by the time my schedule is free, everyone already has plans. It was easier when I first moved to LA because nobody really requested my work, and I shared rent with an upcoming actress named Tilde who eventually moved back to Samolia. Anyway, my point is just that Calum was my first real friend since I'd left Colorado in pursuit of happiness. It was easy to be around him, to be around the boys in general. They treated me the same way they would treat anyone else. I was really sick once, and despite having a full schedule the boys brought me soup and redbox movies. These were the kind of people that they were for their friends.

I can't remember the first time that he looked at me like anything but a friend. I can remember the way that he told me that he was happy around me. "You let me be myself" replayed in my mind everyday for about a month or more. I can remember how easy it was for him to win me over and spend the night at my apartment. Embarrassingly enough, I can remember everything about the first time that we had sex. There was some strange way that he had power over me. I think it's because I grew attached to how nice he was. It makes me look weak, but I never had a lot of attention in general. Having someone be so kind, and tell me that they wanted me gave me a high. I know it sounds stupid. That I sound stupid. I know that there are probably a handful of girls with the exact same story and that breaks my heart. I know that there are at least a handful of girls who he has liked considerably more than me but I can't let go of it: the yo-yo of Calum Hood and Riley Harmer. On Monday, he's whispering in my ear about how soft my skin is; On Tuesday, he's telling me about how he got a date with "the hottest girl at Avalon". Were we actually friends? If we were, was the only thing he wanted from me? I've had my own fair share of boys before, but never like this. Other boys who kiss me tell me exactly what they want. Calum kisses me, and then tells me about how he wants to marry a fan named Bethany who looks just like Katy Perry. Admittedly, I let it control me. I spent a lot of time trying to crack the case and cracked myself in doing so. I'm not going to waste my time talking about just how low I let myself get, but I wound up seeing a therapist and telling the boys that my work was going to be taking me traveling. I didn't lie, but it was easier to say that than to say that I couldn't trust myself around Calum anymore. I didn't want to keep sleeping with him if it meant that I still would not know just where we stood. Fast forward to four months ago, sitting in a meeting and talking about the plans for this tour and the accompanying photobook. Dani got an emergency phone call and had to leave the room. Her older sister Molly was still helping sort details at the time and didn't want me to think Dani rude. "She's trying to find a companion act." She explained, so simply. She added on a little more, explaining that Dani was having trouble finding someone with a slightly different demographic. "She's thinking of maybe a band."

I'm not proud of myself. I don't know what it says about me that in the first opportunity I get I am right back to thinking about Calum. Sure, Dani will say that Molly really pressed the band on her as a companion act but the truth is that it was me who planted that seed at all. I left that meeting feeling ashamed, but also feeling like this could be something wonderful. Even if Calum only wanted to be friends, there was a possibility of something more: gaining the closure that Dr. Grohsbard always said that I needed. It was a feeling that stayed with me through every project I finished up in the states as the days faded into a path to tour. I clutched onto it as I sneaked it through airport security in New York. I slept the entire flight to London, dreaming about what might happen if I could just be strong enough to confront him openly. Paul picked me up from the airport at five in the afternoon and explained that everyone was already at the hotel. Dani had been on the radio earlier in the day but she had a clear schedule through the weekend in order to visit her shops in the city. It seemed logical that she make the most of her travel plans. At the front desk of The May Fair Hotel, I picked up the keycard they were holding for me. I'd been to London before as assistant photographer for Spin Magazine, but this was the first time that I was staying at such a nice hotel. I carried my own luggage up to the room and made quick work of opening the door and wheeling everything in. For such a swanky place, the room was incredibly brown. The wallpaper was merely a pattern of lines in different shades of potatoes. I felt my comfort level sink and left all my bags in the entryway.

I took off my sneakers and my jacket and left them at the foot of the bed as I plopped down into a fluffy chair. I turned on the television and high pitched voices of gossip columnists entered the room. Their voices were strange, but I didn't feel so alone. I sat and watched them discuss the latest celebrity gossip. Two people I'd never heard of were getting divorced. No one knew what might happen with their two children. She might lose her variety program. After a minute of kidding myself, I took my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through until I found the conversation thread with Calum. The last text he had ever sent to me was four months ago. It was an eggplant emoji in response to me congratulating the band for their sudden wave of success. I didn't want to scroll up and view the horror of the mess that he made me. I could already remember the distraught way I cried over him the last time I had seen him so I didn't want to read back on all those times that I pretended that we were fine. I didn't want to, but I did it anyway.

Calum: "Did you make it home alright?"
Me: "Yeah. It was fine."
Calum: "I had fun."

There was a winky face emoji and there was suddenly a sharp pain in my chest.

Me: "I'm glad I could entertain you."
Calum: "You always entertain me. You're my best friend."

Another pain. I scrolled up farther.

Me: "How was your date?"
Calum: "You don't really want to know, do you?"
Me: "Answer the question, Hood."
Calum: "It was alright. She was cute."
Me: "But?"
Calum: "She thought I was being too forward when I asked if she wanted to see the house."

The sharp pain was only getting worse. I exited the thread and threw my phone onto the bed, climbing up off my ass and shuffling to the phone on the desk. I picked up the receiver, but then hesitated for a long time. I put the receiver down, stepped back a little and glanced at the television. They were onto something else and I didn't know what they were talking about. I stared back at the phone for what felt like several minutes. It was me versus the phone, but damn if it wasn't a good player. I took a deep breath, stepped back to the phone, picked up the receiver, and dialed the front desk.

"Hello, front desk." I swallowed hard, hunched over the phone. "Yes, I seem to have forgotten my friend's room number." The man on the other end of the line sat unphased. "I can absolutely help, what name would it be under, Miss?" I hesitated for a moment. Fuck, I thought. How am I supposed to remember what they book it under? I had an idea. I picked up the phone off of the desk and carried it halfway across the room. It wouldn't stretch any farther, so I tossed the phone onto the bed and stretched the receiver's cord to my luggage. I raced to find my own check in paperwork. It was Dani's assistant Sarah who made the bookings, right? She probably put them all under the same name. "Miss? Are you still there?" I stumbled over my words. "Yes, yes of course. I'm so sorry. I have it written down here." My eyes darted across the page before settling on the name. "Dona Twines is the name, the same name as my own room. There should be several rooms, actually-" He cleared his throat and it shut me up. "Yes, Miss. I do see three rooms here under that name." I ran back to the desk and wrote them down. My room was three-fourteen. The other two rooms were three-fifty-two and five-twenty-one. It was too easy. Calum liked staying in the highest room. Looking from the balcony of anything made him feel like a king. I thought about going to the room, but I was too busy arguing with myself. This is a bad idea and you know it. It's true, I did. I thought about what I might say if I went. I glanced at the clock. After his own flight, he was probably sleeping. How can you be nonchalant about everything when the other person was sleeping? I buried my face in my hands and let out a deep sigh. There was no way that I was going to his room, that was crazy. I turned off the television and pulled on my shoes. I needed to sleep, but I also needed something to eat. I grabbed my wallet and put my hotel keycard inside before leaving. The guy at the front desk had been really nice, so maybe he knew a simple place to eat. I quietly walked to the elevator, following the signs that shouted "LIFT: THIS WAY". I felt embarrassed about my episode of weakness just then. I was going to see Calum eventually, right? It didn't have to be right away. I pushed the arrow pointing down and waited. When Calum saw me, I wanted it to seem natural. If I went to his room, it would be forced and I would look incredibly desperate. Nobody wants to be around someone desperate, right? I just needed to hold myself together until we started working. I could do that. It was only a couple of days until the shows started, after all. The bell for the elevator chimed and I glanced up as the doors opened, ready to step in. I hesitated stepping in once the doors were open, however.

It would appear that the elevator was already occupied by a certain Calum Hood.