Chapter Text
At the end of Jack’s shift, Davey was there, waiting for him outside the bakery.
“Aye, Davey,” Jack greets. Davey smiles in response. Jack asks, “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Davey starts, “it’s at your place, right?” Jack nods.
“Yup! C’mon follow me,” Jack says. He and Davey approach a small four-story apartment building across the bakery. “After you,” Jack jokes, holding the door open for a chuckling Davey.
“My, what a gentleman,” he quips.
The pair go enter an elevator, riding it up to the third floor. Jack walks out of the elevator first, Davey following closely behind. Jack stops at a door, the number 32 marked on in. He fishes out his keys from his pocket and uses them to open the door.
“Make yourself at home,” Jack tells Davey as the two enter the apartment. Davey looks around the apartment, noting its cozy, homelike feel.
“That’s alright,” Davey starts. “I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re a guest. I am literally inviting you into my home. You’re not imposing at all,” Jack responds. “C’mon! Let’s go to my room,” he suggests.
“Um, okay.”
Davey follows Jack down a hallway. He stops to open a white wooden door.
“This is my room. It’s not the neatest, but it’s pretty cozy,” Jack informs Davey.
Davey grins. “I gotcha. My room is like that too, don’t worry.” The two enter Jack’s room.
“You might want to get comfy. I’m not a hundred percent sure where I stored your hoodie, so we might be here a while.” The two laugh.
Jack makes a beeline for his dresser on one side of the room, and Davey heads for a desk near a window. As Jack frantically looks for the hoodie, Davey looks around Jack’s room. Displayed on the wall near Jack’s bed are posters and drawings of anything and everything. Some were sketches of the skyline or movie characters, or at least Davey thought they were.
“Wow,” Davey mumbled under his breath. He got up from the chair, meandering towards the wall, trying to get a closer look. He noticed other items, like mementos and pictures. Davey smiled, noticing the picture he gave to Jack in the airport taped to the wall.
Jack approaches Davey, clutching an extra large Ziploc. “I found it!” he exclaims. “It was hiding in my closet.” Davey faces Jack and smiles.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to keep it in a Ziploc bag, though.”
Jack shrugs. “I wanted to, so I wouldn’t ruin it.” He holds the Ziploc out for Davey, who quickly takes it. Davey gestures back to the wall.
“Your wall, these pictures, they’re pretty,” he says. Jack grins.
“Thank you. I try to hang up the things that inspire me, that way, when I’m in an art block, I can look at this wall for some inspiration. Sometimes, I’ll redraw posters or my friends in the pictures, or just let my pencil flow on the page and see what happens.” Davey nods, taking pride in his photo plastered onto Jack’s wall.
“Well, your inspiration wall serves you well. You’re a very talented artist.”
Jack smiles. “Thank you. How about you? How do you get inspiration for your photography?” Davey thinks, unsure how to answer it.
“I, uh, I like to experiment a lot with my photography. Sometimes, I’ll take pictures of one thing or person from different angles to really capture how the light and shadows work,” Davey pauses, turning to Jack. “If it wasn’t very obvious, I’m still trying to find my style of photography. Some photographers specialize in portraits, others carve their niche in landscape photography or architecture. Me? Well, I’m still trying to figure it out.” Davey finishes with a sigh.
“I know how you feel,” Jack starts. “It took me years to develop my own art style. I tried so many art styles, but if something felt wrong, I stopped doing it. Look, I know photography and drawing are two different things, but they’re both still art. The only way to make art is to do it. Who cares if someone’s photographed something a million times before, you’ll still have a unique perspective and interpretation of it every time. Just make art, push your limits, and do what feels right.”
Davey stares at Jack in awe, holding onto his words. “That’s beautiful,” he says.
“Well, that’s my philosophy,” Jack replies. “As artists, it’s something we should think about.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Hey,” Jack starts, “if you don’t mind me asking, how would you describe your photography style?”
“I said already, I don’t have one,” Davey responds.
“Describe what most of your photos look like.”
“A disaster,” Davey jokes, Jack chuckling in response.
“No, seriously. How would you describe it.” Davey sighs.
“Well,” he says, “it’s like if a kid found their parents’ favorite magazines, cut out a bunch of pictures, and messily glued it to a piece of construction paper. That’s what it feels like most of my pictures are, just a hodgepodge of things I think look nice.”
“From what I’ve seen, it’s a very nice hodgepodge,” Jack says. Davey smiles in response.
“Thanks, but there’s always room for improvement.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Davey answers. “I suck at taking pictures of objects. You’d think that because they don’t move, it should be easier to photograph. No, they’re actually harder.” As the two laugh, an idea formulates in Jack’s head.
“Say, Davey, what are you doing the rest of this summer?” he asks.
“I don’t really have a lot planned. I am trying to get a job, but I haven’t applied to that many places.” Jack’s face lights up, an idea formulating in his head.
“Hey, could I have your number or Instagram? Or just anywhere I can contact you? I think I know someone that might be able to hook you up with a job.”
“Sure, I’ll give you both,” Davey responds with a smile. The two exchange phones, making contacts for each other.
“Here you go,” Jack says as he hands Davey back his phone.
“Yours too. Let’s make sure we both gave the right numbers, so I can just text you if I forget something this time,” Davey jokes. He quickly sends a simple text to Jack. “Did you get it?”
Jack nods his head. “Yep!”
“Cool, I’ll send you my Insta.”
“Oh, and I’ll send mine!”
“I actually have two,” Davey says. “One is my personal account and the other is my photography account. You can follow both if you want.”
“M’kay,” Jack responds as he looks at Davey’s photography account. “You only have 70 followers?” Davey nods.
“Yeah, I know it’s not too much, but that’s fine.”
“You’re an amazing photographer and deserve more followers. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna share your photography account with some of my friends. A few of them are really into it.”
“You don’t have to, but okay,” Davey pauses. “Look, thanks for the hoodie. I’m gonna head out, though, it’s getting a bit late.” Jack nods.
“Okay, get home safely.”
“Thanks, you too!” Davey responds, mentally facepalming himself, since Jack is already at home. Before he can correct himself, he speed walks out of the apartment.
After checking if Davey really left, Jack quickly dials Medda’s number.
“Hey, sweetie, what’s up?” Medda asks from the other line.
“Mamma, are you still looking for a promotional photographer for the bakery?” he asks.
“Yeah!,” Medda responds. “Did you have anyone in mind?” Jack laughs softly.
“I think I know the perfect photographer for the job.”