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Not mad, just working

Bryce was sitting in his apartment, sifting through yesterday’s finds. There was a dirty pile, a detail pile and a ready-to-sell pile. He opened up his lightbox and set the first item in it.

He was setting up his tripod when he heard his phone buzz. Without even looking, he clicked ignore and stuck it in his pocket. If it was anyone who mattered, they could wait until he got back to them. He screwed the base of the tripod into the socket on the bottom of his camera and started to line up the shot. His pocket vibrated. He found the right angle and adjusted the focus until the printing on the telephoto lens was crisp and legible.

Bryce tiptoed away from the tripod and went to the lightbox. He picked up the lens and turned it over until he found the brand label. He held it sideways, vertically, and at a few different angles until he settled on what he felt was ideal positioning. As he put it back down, his pocket vibrated again.

He walked around his tripod very carefully and checked on the focus again. He dialed the image back in and snapped the shot three times. Between the second and third frames, his pocket vibrated again.

“Jeez!” He looked up from the camera and whipped out his phone. Somehow, he knew who it was before he even unlocked it.

Are you free for lunch?
I’m in town.
Can you let me know?
Are you mad at me?

“Am I mad at you? You’re the one who went storming off in a cab, you wacko!” He wanted to throw the phone through the wall. He texted back.

Working rn
Rain check?

Bryce figured that would keep him from looking desperate. It was also true.

Dinner?

Well, he established that he didn’t look desperate. Did this mean that she was? He was on his own here and he had no idea how to handle this. He set the lens on the create-a-listing pile. He pulled his phone back out.

Can u get to 449 W 34th?

He put the phone back in his pocket and grabbed a camera case from the ready-to-sell pile. “Hmm, open or closed?” He fiddled with the thing to see what might be most appealing when his pocket vibrated again.

What is it?

“What is it? Look it up!”

Pizza/Deli
It’s pretty good

He jammed the phone back into his pocket and returned to his camera case. The thing had some little compartments that might be appealing to shoppers, but the outside was glossy and still pretty intact.

15 min?

“Oh, my God! I’m working. I said that!”

Working rn
Dinner?

He took a shot of the outside of the case and then repositioned it so he could get an interior shot of the little compartments.

Are you mad at me?

“No, but I’m soon going to be.”

Not mad, just working
Come @ 1?

He adjusted the focus and got some interior shots. The case went on the make-a-listing pile.

c u @ 1

“Good, maybe you’ll stop texting until then!” He started rummaging through the ready-to-sell pile. He knew he would get wrapped up in his work, so he set an alarm for ten minutes to one.

Bryce ripped through his ready-to-sell pile and grabbed a box of lens cloths from his detail pile. The detail items were basically ready to sell but needed some small bit of attention before he would take a product shot. In this case, the box had a price sticker from the thrift shop where he’d picked it up. With a little patience, the sticker could be removed without a trace. The 99¢ box could be listed for $9.99 and he got to keep the difference.

Bells began chiming in his pocket. 12:50 already? He knew he’d get lost in his work if he didn’t set his alarm. He snoozed it for five minutes and went back to work on the price tag.

12:55 and the bells began to chime again. He reset the alarm to 12:58. He was so close to having that sticker off.

Where r u?

“I’ll see you in four minutes.” He worked on the sticker a moment longer. Just as he got the last corner lifted from the box, his pocket began chiming again. “Okay, okay. I’m done.” He threw on his coat and walked out to the elevator. It didn’t seem to be moving so he pulled out his phone.

Elevator problems
B R T

He bolted down the stairs and out into the cold. She was standing in front of the restaurant. “Oh, there you are.”

“Sorry, I had to take the stairs.”

“That’s your place?”

“Yes, but my apartment is on the other side of the building. Shall we go in? You look chilly.” He opened the door for her.

“I got you something.” She reached into the pocket of her bright red ski jacket and pulled out an envelope.

“If I knew you were ever going to talk to me again, I’d have gotten you something too. Are you auditioning today?” He began pulling the envelope open.

“No, strictly a social call.”

He pulled a collection of newspaper clippings from the envelope. “What’s this?”

“I found some articles about this Krampus character.”

“Huh.” He scanned the headlines. “I was kind of hoping to forget about him.”

“Are you mad at me, Bryce?”

“Am I mad at you? I’d think you were mad at me. You went off like a nuclear bomb and then jumped in a cab and disappeared. I honestly never expected you to see me again.”

“Well, yeah. That stunt you pulled ticked me off.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“I had some time to think about it and I realized you were just trying to be nice.”

“That’s all.”

“I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to see you again.”