Smile For The Picture

(1) My Camera & Me

Yepers, This is my first time writing so forgive the grammar mistakes. Forgive them all!

Chase's P.O.V

What a wonderful world~ for anyone else but me. Hi I should introduce myself, I'm Chase and standing at an out-seemingly 5'7 (ok so maybe I'm rounding up a little, who can blame me at this height?) and glasses making me look like a high schooler but not just any high schooler the one you would shove into a locker or lock in the girls bathrooms.

I slip my feet into my fuzzy bunny slippers, I'm not rich people I can't afford Gucci Slippers. Rubbing my eyes awake, my arms stretch out wide inviting a yawn to appear on my face as I bring myself to stand up. Shuffling in my slippers I throw my closet open picking out some blue washed up jeans with my favorite pair of black vans. I decided to go with a clean fitting batman logo shirt, tightly wrapping around my flat torso which doesn't mean I have abs (you don't know how long I asked Santa that). Enough with the small details, combing my hair back and brushing my teeth. Taking my phone not even bothering to check the time, I grab a piece of bread chewing the end off like a cow to then shove it in my pocket as I grab my camera bag.

My watch rings loudly making me wonder if I set it up wrong or it's broken because whenever my watch rings I swear I can hear my brother saying "You're late dumbass" and that's all I hear. I take out my phone quicker than a flash of a camera checking the time just to see that it's 8:20. I rush down the stairs, throwing my hair to the side brushing it out of my eyes so I don't fall down and break a leg. Running outside I'm hit with reality, well more like Rude New Yorkers shoving me to the side of my building. A pain shoots up my spine as it makes contact with the brick wall, I'm just a rag doll in the concrete jungle .

And now I'm going to be late, how does this even happen? I'll tell you how, I'm such a lazy ass, it would be a prayer if my brother will cut me some slack.  Which I can give you guys some inside facts, he never does. My hands moisten as I whistle down a cab, which is almost the hardest thing ever. I finally get a cab to stop, relief fills my throbbing mind as I et ready to go inside when a man shoves my ass out of the way as he lets himself gladly in and they speed off.

"ASSHOLE!" I scream as I extended my arm so fast I was sure it was going to fall off as I gave that man the middle finger. It took me about her 20 minutes before I was able to call down another cab.

I open the door looking right to left to see if there's anyone around before I step in and spit out the golden thrifty beads in my face. Let me just clarify, cabs are the most awkwardest way of transportation. No not awkward, more like uncomfortable. Your in a car with someone and you just sit there, in silence. Ok, off topic. I lay back in relief as the ab driver coughs out an awkward loud, mucus filled cough hinting at the fact I didn't give an address.

While I attempted to scramble out the alphabet into what seemed to be a understandable sentence, I have him a stuttered "213 Roadway, east side."

I currently work at a photography studio with my older brother, it used to be small but it became big. He's more of the manager type where as I am the actual photographer. We run this photography business, it's kind of big (highlight the kind of part). We aren't the paparazzi, most models come to us for a photo shoot for people's magazine or just pictures to hang up in their lavishing mansions or maybe just for new head shots they need to audition for a movie. Some models have there own personal photographers, the models get to pick who because God forbid the photographers have a say other than telling them how to pose. We mostly get female models and tons of models have asked me to be there official all around photographer but that's like a relationship. I don't do relationships, at least not with the female species. But not everyone has to know!