Thought I'd brave a new story after the great response to "No Turning Back". This one is completely different though, slightly more whimsical and hopefully more fun. Don't worry too much about Larry's presence, he's there more as a prop than anything else. Hope you enjoy...
(I still don't own any of the characters...)
CHAPTER I
Larry entered the office full of excitement. Heading straight for his editor's office he was bursting to relay his idea for a new column. Alex Vause was not an easy person to convince, but he was sure that he would be able to win her over to publish his new work. Gingerly he knocked on the door, not allowing his inner bravado to overshadow the inherent fear he still held for his boss.
"Enter." The word as always in a strict tone.
Larry opened the door and walked into the immaculate office that always gave him a slight shiver. Alex was powerful. Not merely because of the position she held, but in the very way she carried herself. Her voice, her manner, everything she exuded screamed control. Yet, she was one of the most creative people that Larry had ever had the honour of meeting.
"Alex? Can I speak to you for a moment? It's just that I have a new idea for my column that I would like to run by you."
Larry was respectfully careful in his approach. Alex was not an editor to be taken lightly. Anyone in an editorial position at the New York Times was not to be taken lightly, but Alex was definitely one of the most revered ones.
"What do you have? I'm busy." Her tone was to the point and strict as always.
"Well, you know this new 'Humans of New York' on Facebook? I had a thought to write columns in the same line. Tell a singular story at a time. Sometimes based on the photos, sometimes just interviews, maybe even sometimes just perceptions. I thought it could make for great stories as well as an interesting insight into the daily lives of locals. The Facebook images and stories seem to have drawn quite an interest but I want to take it deeper, get more involved, and maybe do a follow up piece or two."
Larry felt his palms sweating following his rushed monologue. He could feel the green eyes of his editor bore holes in him from behind her desk.
"I never thought I'd say these words to you, but that's actually a good idea. Obviously we'll have to change the name of the column to avoid copyright infringement, but it seems solid. I've been wanting to talk to you about bringing the columns more up to date, more current. I'm surprised you came to me first."
This, as veiled as it was, was the first compliment that Larry had ever received from Alex.
"I would prefer to assign you a photographer as well though, someone who has an eye for interesting characters."
"That would be great, I'd love to interview as many people as I can. There are so many stories out there that deserve to be told. Thank you so much for this opportunity. I won't let you down." Larry rushed his words as always in front of Alex.
"Stop sucking up and bring me something I can work with." Alex, to the point as always.
"I will. Thank you Alex."
Larry reversed out of the office, ever fearful of turning his back on Alex Vause.
Mere hours later the photographer assigned showed up at Larry's desk. The project was moving forward much more swiftly than he had anticipated. On their way out the building he explained his idea to the photographer, Sam he learned her name was. Sam had plenty of her own ideas, and the two seemed to have the same passion for storytelling, even though through completely different mediums.
They headed out into the bustling streets of New York.
"How about we stick together for an hour or so and then head our separate ways and see what we come up with?" Larry was desperately trying to take charge of the situation, but Sam was quite a strong personality to contend with.
"Sure thing. It's your story isn't it?"
"Well, that's just the point. It should be the subject's story. We're just here to tell it."
"Don't get too deep on me buddy. I've got a good eye for faces. I'm not really the emotional type. So pull your balls out of your vagina and tell me what you need."
Sam was not at all what Larry expected, but then again, she had been assigned by Alex and he shouldn't have been expecting anything less.
They worked well for the first few hours, Sam taking beautiful candid photos as Larry interviewed the local crowd. He was surprised at the honesty of the stories people told him, as if telling a complete stranger your life story was a run of the mill occurrence. When the time came for the two to part ways Larry was sure that Sam seemed relieved, maybe he was crowding her style, although he couldn't for the life of him see why.
Larry carried on with interviews, in a few hours collecting enough material for at least seven columns. He was extremely keen to see what Sam would come back with, eager to start with the more fictional side of his columns as well. There was something about looking at a face and trying to make up a story that always intrigued him, guessing where the person had been, what their hopes and ambitions were. Maybe it was just him living vicariously through his imaginings of other people's lives, but as lonely as he was, at least it was something.
Sam and Larry spent the next few hours at the office filtering through photos and connecting them to the stories that Larry had recorded and written down. He was excited to show some of the work to Alex immediately, but knew that an unpolished work would not be received kindly.
"How about the photos you took later in the afternoon, after the interviews we did together?"
Sam shoved Larry out of the way and took charge of the laptop in front of them.
"There are some gems in here. If you're going to use these to make up stories though, I suggest that you don't use the photos with the column. You know how people can be about their own reality."
The words struck Larry unexpectedly. He had never given it a second thought, being too wrapped up in his own imagination to pay a moment's notice to how a hypothetical story could impact an individual's life.
"Sure, I was thinking of keeping it slightly abstract anyway," he lied. "It would still be good inspiration though." Larry was desperately trying to save himself, as always.
"Well then, have at it. Let me know what strikes your interest, maybe I can give you some background."
Larry started to scan through the photos. The images were incredible. Sam really did have an eye for the interesting, her technique only enhancing the powerful images on the screen. The images followed one after the other, a homeless man with the most beautiful crooked smile, a mother and her daughter trying to seem happy in the middle of an argument, a veteran pretending that his loss of limb was nothing more than a mere scrape. Picture after picture made an impression, and Larry could only imagine the story that went with them. Yet, it was after about twenty images that Larry really paused for the first time.
On the screen in front of him was a stolen moment in time. The scene; a solitary park bench, backed by curling branches bearing the first signs of spring, their blossoms just coming out of hiding. A smile that betrayed the deep laugh behind it. Eyes that spoke of a covered history. Blonde hair carelessly thrown back in the last of the autumn winds.
Larry couldn't stop his eyes from wandering over and over again. This was it. This would be his fictional column. The picture was so emotive he was sure he could tell a story to match it. Sure he could do that smile justice.
The next morning at eight Larry once again approached Alex's office. He had worked through the night to produce at least one column showing each approach that he planned. There was the interviewed piece, the piece he wrote based on snippets of conversation, and what he thought would be the winner, the piece based on the image of the blonde woman on the park bench. His confidence was tenfold what it had been the previous morning. His knuckles rapped surely on the wooden door, although it did nothing to alter the response.
"Enter." As always.
"I came to drop by the first drafts of the columns. Thought you'd want it as soon as possible." Larry's eagerness was barely disguised.
"And you've never heard of email?"
Six words and Larry's bubble was burst. But what was he expecting? You don't get a pat on the back from Alex for doing your job.
"Put them on that pile. I'll look over them when I can. I'll let you know what I think."
"Thank you Alex, I put the photos with them for your consideration as well."
How could this woman steal away all his bravery and confidence with a few small sentences?
Larry left the papers and walked back to his desk, wondering how long he would have to wait for feedback.
Alex finally finished her work and leaned her head back for a few seconds. A few seconds of rest she rarely afforded herself. As she leant forward again her eyes were drawn to black and white photos on top of typed papers, Larry's work. She groaned inwardly, she couldn't stand the guy, but her boss insisted on having him around, and she was left to clean up his lazy writing and grammatical errors.
She begrudgingly picked up the pile of papers, annoyed even at herself for encouraging Larry's ideas, but she needed new material and she couldn't do all the work herself. She scanned through the first column. Factual, merely telling a story, but interesting nonetheless. The second had a few quotes but contained a lot of speculation as to what the actual story might be. Maybe it was Larry's attempt at being philosophical, but half of it was quite unbelievable. She was starting to feel sorry for the guy.
She read the third column with little interest. The piece was clearly fictional, apparently attempting to portray a day in the life of a New York woman, although all Alex could really draw from the description was that she was blonde and sitting in a park. Until, that is, she saw the photo.
The words that Larry had put on paper did not come close to doing the image justice. If a picture paints a thousand words… As corny as her thought was, Alex knew that it would take a million words to bring this picture to life. The woman took up one third of the frame, classic photographer's structure, yet it seemed to Alex that she occupied so much more than that. She re-read Larry's words and cursed under her breath. Not only for the extra work that has been set out for her, but for Larry's lack of insight into such an exquisitely inspiring photography. If ever there was a muse handed to Alex Vause, the blonde woman in the picture was it.
Alex swiftly typed an email to Larry.
"First two columns fine, requires some editing, but good work. Works well with photos. Last piece I'll take care of. Come see me. – AV"
Larry was out of his seat the moment he read the email. He rushed into Alex's office, barely giving his knock time to register.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Eager as always I see? Look, the first two pieces I can deal with, but you need to work on them. Stop thinking of them as subjects and start dealing with them as people. You need to go deeper if you want to draw attention. Sweet and sappy isn't going to do it for your audience. What the last piece is concerned, it's clear I'm going to have to give you some special guidance on this one. Larry, and I say this with as much sensitivity as I could possibly muster, you need to open your fucking eyes. You're supposed to be a writer, and what you wrote about this picture was unimaginative and trite. It read like you have a high school crush on this woman, which is simply not attractive. I'm taking charge of this piece until further notice, but don't worry, it will still be under your name, as much as that might shame me."
"Thank you Alex. I'm always grateful for your advice, and I'd love to work on the last piece with you."
"Did I ever mention the word 'collaboration'? No, I fucking didn't. So get out while I fix your messy writing and wait for my email regarding your next assignment."
Again Larry found himself walking backwards out of the office, terrified of feeling those piercing green eyes in his back.
As Larry exited her office Alex found herself drawn back to the image on her desk. Photographs had always struck a chord with Alex, more so than any other form of art. It was the sudden depiction of reality, the split second of life that grabbed her attention. Candid photography never hid the facts, never tried to be anything it wasn't. Yet, with these thoughts churning through her mind, she couldn't put her finger on what exactly the image in front of her represented. A woman on a park bench, possibly the simplest thing to describe, but what she saw went so much deeper than that, seemed to mean so much more. The image seemed to have imprinted itself in her mind, seemed to be all she saw as she closed her eyes. An anonymous blonde woman on a park bench somehow managed to hold all her thoughts hostage.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it enough to review, or just to let me know whether you want it to continue or not. Looking forward to hearing from you..
