Arcadia Bay is filled with sluts and punks. It doesn't get better, and my opinion about them doesn't change. It's a crime some of these people aren't dead.
Then I have these glimpses of light, the reminders why I still prefer to be here, amongst the filth of others. There are pearls in the mud. Arcadia Bay continues to be able to sprout these perfect subjects, models with so much potential that the true crime would be not to capture them. Here, they stand out in positive over negative, in a way they wouldn't anywhere else.
Rachel's shine was strong enough to blind me for a while. I look at her photos often. A masterpiece in every single shot. The perfect capture of corruption of the innocence that really was inside her. I miss her. I really do. But such is the fleeting nature of purity. Here on moment, corrupted and gone in the next. On the subjects, at least. Here in this file, she's forever innocent, forever broken and forever lost.
There's so long you can live without another light, albeit smaller it may be in comparision.
My new students.
Maxine Caulfield. The way she smiles, the politeness and delicate awkwardness that shows how much she admires me, but doesn't want it to be clear. A beautiful new student that stands out by living slightly on the outskirts of everyone else. She caught my eye on the very first class she attended. A hipster. She has a talent in her with her photos, but her real talent lies elsewhere. That attitude of hers, her clothes, remind me a bit too much like those bitches from back in my day, but the look in her face is a glimpse through all that, into all that hidden potenial beneath and just waiting, longing, to be explored. To meet my lense. That's where her true talent will show.
She's not the only one - Kate Marsh also shines, a more conventional type of purity, much easier to harvest. How beautiful it'll be to see it all shattered, lost, destroyed and captured.
I smile at them encouragingly, hearing their pleas and cries in my mind. Gain a bit more of their trust, see the destruction in their faith when it'll be broken. It's a funny thing, like a juxtaposition afterimage of reality. If only they could see what I see.
Well. They will.
Kate is willing. Max a bit more resisting. Two models with different types of innocence, different types of breaking. Different types of thrill.
I can't wait to make a file with each of their names.
.
the end
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Author's Note: I wanted to write a little something I would find disturbing. It's short because I managed to do it.
Title comes after my other 2 LiS fics.