Chapter 4

When we landed in Mexico, we went to a small but nice hotel where we got settled. I unpacked some things from my suitcase and went to speak with Michele, who reminded me that the boys had a private TV interview in the evening, and that I had to be present to take photos.

"Meet us in front of the hotel at six," he instructed me, and then dismissed me. I hurried back to my room and excitedly grabbed my camera and left the hotel. I jogged past the three boys in the lobby and then out the door, running to immerse myself in Guadalajara.

I roamed about the Mexican wonderland, scrambling into strange places and heights to get good pictures. I ignored the heat as I moved quickly and feverishly throughout the land, laughing in exhilaration with my heavy camera slung around my neck.

I planned to be back at the hotel before four to take a shower and get ready to go out. But when four arrived, I pushed the thought of going back out of my head as I scrambled into a tree and positioned the camera.

I decided not to go back until four-thirty, and decided that no matter where I was, I would pry myself away from the landscape and return to the hotel.

But at four-thirty I refused to go back, and at five I looked at my watch and gasped in surprise as I began my long sprint back to the hotel room. By the time I got to the hotel, it was fifteen minutes to six, and I ducked through the lobby where Michele was already waiting as I dashed to my room.

I startled Gianluca as I sprinted by him in the hallway, and he turned and called, "Tamzin, are you okay!?"

I turned breathlessly and gave him a quick nod before turning and scurrying into my hotel room.

I ran to the mirror and raised my eyebrows at my appearance as I panted to regain my breath. I looked frightful, with my face red, my blonde hair darkened with sweat, and my shirt and shorts dirty and wrinkled.

I was a pretty punctual person, and I was usually early for things. It was strange that I was in such a rush, but surprisingly, I felt rather remorseless. So what if the boys had to wait a few extra minutes? It was a small price for them to pay for cutting my time capturing Guadalajara short.

I turned and hurried to the sink, where I grabbed a cloth and ran it under the cold water, wiping at my flushed face and then flinging it aside as I leaned forward to gulp the water straight from the faucet.

Then I stepped back and looked around, wondering where to start to make myself look presentable in only a few minutes. There was no time for a shower, and I peeled off my clothes and settled for wiping the sweat off of myself with the cloth. I relatively doused myself in body spray, reapplied deodorant, and grabbed a new shirt and dress pants from my suitcase. I dressed hurriedly, hopping to the mirror as I yanked on the pants, where I pulled my dirty hair back into a quick ponytail. I grabbed my camera and hurried to the lobby, where the boys, Barbara, and Michele were waiting for me, the boys all looking dashing in tuxedos.

I paused for a moment and took a deep breath before I strolled coolly over to them.

"Hey," I said, hanging the camera around my neck as I approached.

"Tamzin, finally!" Michele said, "We've got to get going. Come on, guys."

The boys all smiled at me, and I shied away when Ignazio moved to hug me. He smiled gently and allowed me to avoid the hugging, and the six of us walked outside to the cars Michele had rented.

"You look a little flustered," Ignazio said. "Where did you go?"

"Out," I said as I passed him to claim shotgun, and refused to tell him when he asked again.

I took a few pictures of the boys before the interview started, without adding any special artistic flair to them. I didn't even tell them how to pose, as was custom in portrait photography. I found that it didn't really matter to me how they looked, just so I made sure I got some photos. I made sure to get a few during the interview, but I didn't even move around to get different angles, allowing all of the pictures to look somewhat homogeneous. For the most part I just sat boredly next to Michele, looking longingly out the window. The interview was uninteresting, especially since it was in Spanish, which I did not understand.

I didn't review the pictures until Michele asked to see them when we returned to the hotel. Everyone gathered around me as I showed them the shots.

As I flicked through them, Barbara nodded in approval and Michele patted me on the cheek.

"Nice work, Tamzin. They're good."

"Yeah," I said glumly, "They're good."

Michele gave me the responsibility of putting up some of the shots on Facebook, and then I headed back to my hotel room.

I felt a disappointed ache within my chest, and I tried in vain to dismiss it. As I reviewed the photos and put them online, I felt anxious to be putting these simple images out for public viewing.

There was nothing wrong with them, and they were good photos. The problem was that they weren't great. To me, they felt plain and mediocre. Whenever I took landscapes, I poured my whole heart and all my energy into getting the shots, but with these…well…I couldn't remember the last time I had put so little effort into photography.

I set the camera aside and went to the bathroom for an overdue bath. As I washed, I tried to remind myself that the problem was only that I was a landscape photographer, and the reason the photos were just good was because I wasn't meant to be a portrait photographer. I didn't have to spend myself on the photos like I did on my landscapes as long as Michele, Barbara and the boys were happy, which they were.

Still, I avoided my sheepish blue eyes in the mirror as I climbed out from the tub and dressed in an oversized T-shirt and shorts to sleep in. All the TV channels were in Spanish, and I settled for a Spanish animated movie, hoping to take my mind off of Il Volo for the night as I reviewed my landscapes from earlier. Just as my mind had relaxed and I was feeling sleepy, there was a loud knock on the door.

I groaned softly and didn't move.

"What!?" I called.

"Tamzin, open the door."

"Why?"

"I have something for you."

I suspiciously looked over at the door and then forced myself off the couch and went over to it. I opened the door and leaned agitatedly against the doorframe, raising my eyebrows expectantly. Ignazio smiled brightly at me, wearing a soft-looking T-shirt and jeans and holding his hands behind his back.

"What? It's late."

"I know, I'm sorry. But I wanted to give you these."

He held out his hand, holding a stack of CDs with the words Il Volo printed on all of them.

My eyes flicked up to his face in surprise, and then back down at the CDs as I stood up straight and stopped leaning against the doorframe.

"You actually brought them," I said, and he smiled.

"Of course! You should have them."

"I…I might not listen to them."

He gave me a sly half-smile, as if he knew something I didn't, and I looked at the CDs and reached out gingerly to take them.

I looked quietly at the different covers, and then up at Ignazio, who was waiting for me to speak.

"Um…thanks," I said, and he nodded and then stepped toward me to hug me. I didn't move and let him hug me and kiss my cheek.

"No problem, Tamzin. Goodnight."

He stepped back and smiled at me, and I reached out and quietly shut the door. I stood in front of it, looking down at the CDs in my hand. Then I shook my head and returned to the couch, tossing them onto a chair as I passed.