Chapter 5

Our second day in Guadalajara was dedicated to publicity, and the boys had a talk show interview, a magazine interview, and a CD signing at a local store. I was expected to go with them the whole day to take pictures, which I was not too excited to do. I was eager to go out and get pictures of the Guadalajara sunrise, though, so I set my alarm for five to have enough time to go out and get the shots I wanted.

When I woke and remembered the long day ahead, I felt grouchy and tired, but I cheered up when I remembered I was getting up to take pictures. The hotel was silent, and I jumped out of the bed and hurried to get dressed.

I ran out into the darkness of the early morning, with my red high-tops pounding against the cement and my camera bouncing against me, my breath loud and quick as I navigated through the darkness to the good photo spots I had found. I was the only one outside, and the land was all mine for a while.

I watched as the dark gray sky slowly changed to a dark blue that faded to a lighter and lighter blue, until the sun peeked into the horizon and swirled it with brilliant pinks and oranges. The silhouettes of the trees and buildings were dark outlines that gradually received their color from the brightening morning light.

I moved from one spot to another, getting different angles and scenes for the pictures. I would stop at one place and take a few pictures, then race excitedly against the light to the next location in order to fit in as many photos as I could before the sun was completely risen.

At last I decided I was finished taking my pictures, and I sat breathlessly on the side of a downtown fountain and watched the activity around me slowly start up, thinking about what a great thing it was to travel. And this was only the first stop on the Il Volo tour! Thinking of all the places we were going to visit made me dizzy with happiness, and I jumped up from the fountain and began to stroll in the direction of the hotel.

When I got close and I was sure of my path, I picked up the camera and began to review my photos, excited approval bubbling inside me. Each one marked not only the beauty of Guadalajara, but reminded me of the beauty of my early morning endeavor, the frenzied, joyful rush to capture the world around me on film.

I was giddy with excitement and beaming with delight as I flicked through the pictures, and I laughed joyously at the success of the mission evident in the images. The sound of my laughter broke through the sleepiness of the early morning and made me laugh again as I hurried happily toward the hotel, alight with familiar passion and cheer.

Our hotel rooms were on the first floor of the hotel, and each had a back door and a nice little porch. I went through the hotel's fence and approached the porch, still intent on my photos. I laughed again, and beamed at my beloved camera.

"Hi, Tamzin!" came a voice, and I froze in my tracks and looked up.

Ignazio was sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee in his hand, wearing the same T-shirt from the night before when he had brought me the CDs, with tousled hair and bright eyes. He was looking at me with cheerful amusement, and I suddenly felt silly, laughing joyously and thinking that no one was listening. I felt small under his gaze, and I wondered if he thought I seemed foolish for being so giddy.

I felt obliged to answer him in my flustered state, so I let go of my camera and let it hang around my neck, pulling myself away from the photos and asking as casually as I could, "Uh…what's up?"

He smiled and set the coffee cup down beside him, clasping his hands over his knees and smiling at me.

"Unfortunately, I am."

I smiled slightly and then straightened, regaining my composure.

"It's not so early."

He checked his watch.

"Seven's pretty early. When did you get up?"

"Five."

"Five!? Why?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but then stopped and decided to keep my photography endeavors a secret. My landscape pictures were mine, and I didn't intend to share them with the person who had made me his personal photographer.

I looked condescendingly down at him and shook my head.

"I hadn't heard you laugh yet," he said thoughtfully, and then smiled, "Tell me, what are you so happy about? Where'd you go?"

I clutched my camera so tightly to my chest that it hurt, holding onto it as if he might try to take my pictures from me.

"I went out. It's none of your business."

His smile dimmed.

"Oh. I don't mean to pry, Tamzin. I'm just curious. Go wherever you want."

I studied his face, and he seemed sincere.

He took a sip of his coffee and I stood frozen, watching him silently with the lingering surprise of his first greeting within me, unsure of what I wanted to do next.

He set down the cup and patted the place on the porch beside him, motioning for me to sit with him. I immediately made up my mind to go inside, and I moved toward the steps.

"Are you excited about today?" he asked, and immediately my excitement from my Guadalajara romp vanished. Today was a day that I would have to spend taking pictures of the boys wherever they went, instead of outside absorbed in landscape photography. I looked down at my camera and was filled with a jealous anguish, internally crying, I should be with National Geographic now, not on tour with three pop singers!

I narrowed my eyes at him and then stomped up the steps and into my hotel room, slamming the door in frustration as I went.

I took a shower as I reflected, or rather, fumed, on how I came to arrive in Guadalajara. I thought of all my years waiting for the day National Geographic would show up and select me from the Academy. I thought sadly about the fateful day I had to accept this job, and I thought of all the days ahead that I'd have to spend working for someone other than National Geographic. I gloomily tried to brace myself for the long day of portrait photography ahead as I grudgingly got ready to go.

I traveled somberly along with the boys and Michele to the interviews, where I stayed quiet and out of everyone's way. I mostly just sat silently and brooded over my new job and the inconvenience of having to come along to interviews. I took a few pictures here and there, but didn't exert myself much as I listened boredly to the rapid-fire Spanish of the interviewer. I picked at the laces on my red high-tops and refused to pay attention out of gloomy defiance.

After the interview, we went to a nice restaurant where Michele asked me to show him the pictures I had taken while we waited for our food. The last thing I wanted to do was show him the photos, but I did anyway, my heart sinking in my chest as I reviewed them. Michele liked them, and then Ignazio, who was sitting on the other side of me, asked to see them also.

I resisted the urge to glare at him as I turned and held the camera toward him, scrolling through the photos yet again and praying that Gianluca and Piero wouldn't ask to see them.

As I looked sullenly at the good-but-not-great photos I had taken, I reassured myself that as long as Michele and the boys were happy, the photos didn't need any more work.

Sure enough, Ignazio seemed pleased as I flicked through the images, but after a minute I felt him watching me instead of the camera screen,

I looked up into his eyes and lowered the camera.

"What?" I asked sharply, but softly enough that I wouldn't draw the attention of the others.

"You just…look a little sad. Is everything okay?"

I looked bewilderedly at him for a moment, and then pulled my camera away and snapped, "I'm fine!"

"Okay," he said gently, "I'm just making sure."

"What does it matter, anyway?" I asked crossly. "I'm just the photographer. You're the pop-singer."

He smiled.

"You're part of the team, Tamzin. And I guess you didn't listen to the CDs, since you're still calling me a pop-singer."

"I will listen to the CDs when I feel like it!" I snapped, and he held up his hands in a playful surrender, unfazed by my harshness.

"I know, I know, whenever you want."

Piero reached out and got his attention then, and Ignazio turned away from me. I scrutinized him as he talked with Piero, watching his sincere dark eyes and playful candor. I looked to Piero, who was looking very cute as he laughed with Ignazio, and then I looked across the table at Gianluca, who was talking with Barbara. He looked over at me and gave me a handsome half-smile, and I quickly averted my eyes and looked down at the camera in my hands, then back at Ignazio.

The boys' CD signing took place in a local book store, where we entered secretly through the back and went to the table set up for them. The boys talked with the store owner while I slipped away to survey the crowd outside. There were dozens of ecstatic teenage girls jumping around and straining against the ropes that held them back. I watched for a moment, and then stepped outside to get a picture of the crowd. Their excited screams pierced my ears, and I winced and held up the camera to snap a quick picture so I could go back inside.

The boys took their place at the table set up for them, and the crowd was let in. I was already feeling irritable and gloomy, and being jostled by a wild crowd of screaming Spanish-speaking teenagers didn't help my mood. I fought against the crowd to get pictures of the boys, and grew increasingly more frustrated as girls got in my way.

I fought my way out of the group and stood outside the busy flow of the fans. I crossed my arms and waited for the signing to be over, wishing to be back at the hotel room, or better yet, outside taking landscape photos.

"Hey!" a girl said in English, looking eagerly at her friend and pointing at me. "She was on the Il Volo Facebook page! She's Il Volo's new photographer."

Il Volo's new photographer. Was that my new identity!? Tamzin, the photographer of Il Volo? Not Tamzin, landscape photographer for National Geographic.

I gripped my camera in frustration as someone called my name. I looked toward the signing table, where Ignazio was leaning back in his chair and motioning for me to go to him. "If you're done with the pictures, you can come take refuge behind the table!"

Piero and Gianluca glanced away from the overzealous crowd and laughed, and Ignazio held out a hand for me to go to them.

I glared at him in exasperation and turned away, disappearing into the rows of bookshelves to escape both the crowd and the boys.