“ i just say what i think, ” he admits, though that probably goes without saying by this point. his lack of a filter has resulted in probably hundreds of half-serious love confessions since meeting ayla, all regarded on her end with the same blasé eye rolls and, once in a blue moon, possibly pity for what’s undoubtedly mission impossible on renan’s end. admittedly, it’s beginning to feel like he’s running in aimless circles, but sometimes there’s a hint of a smile and his one-track mind can’t help but return to impractical thoughts of living out a romantic comedy with ayla. “ — and i think you could be a model if you weren’t so SHORT, though you probably prefer to be behind the camera, no? ” he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand as he watches her open the fridge, ignoring the buzzing of his phone against the island counter. “ no, not eggs. it was something she borrowed from you. ” he shrugs, not picking up on ayla’s sarcasm ( he never does ). an eyebrow quirks up at the barren state of the refrigerator, and he offers, “ i could see if we could, ah, stop by whole foods or something after we come back. i’m out of quinoa, anyways. ”
-
that is probably the ISSUE with renan — his tendency to just say what he thinks. who knew someone who thought so little could cause this many problems ( though it was also probably the lack of thought that resulted in the problems in the first place ). ayla sighs and shuts her fridge, an i know itching on the tip of her tongue, but she also knew the moment she'd tried for sarcasm that it'd go over renan's head anyway. it was probably what she deserved. there's a huff of a laugh at his comment on her height, more amused at his ramblings than the actual content of his sentences. " i don't even SHOOT models, renan. " not in the conventional sense anyway. she turns around to face the counter again, an unimpressed look thrown at his phone buzzing so frequently its vibrating its way over the marble. " you better check that, " she says, arms meeting the cold stone as she leans on them. " it's either REALLY important or REALLY not when it starts to do that, and only one way to find out. "
nate assumes that his guess regarding the woman’s identity is correct — not because he’s especially good at remembering faces or anything like that, but because it would be just his luck. of course he would spill an entire glass of champagne on the woman who owns the lakers, and of course she would be wearing an expensive - looking dress when he did it, and of course every photographer in the building would capture every mortifying detail of the incident on camera. “i’m guessing there’s no chance i can convince you to delete that,” nate grimaced as the screen went dark and he watched ayla lower her camera. “i dunno. i get nervous,” he explained, but then immediately offered a third answer, “i’ve spent so much time learning how to play baseball that i’ve never really learned how to do anything else, i guess.” like socializing, or the proper grip for a fancy glass.
-
“ nope — ” says ayla cheerfully, “ — might come in handy later. some of us don’t make multi-millions a year. ” it’s hardly a bitter tone. ayla loves what she does, and that in her romanticized mind, trumps making multimillions ; besides it’s not like she’s falls into the typical class either, one just had to look to her convenient lodging on tercet court to confirm that. but ayla didn’t like to rely on others more than she had too — it was always good to have something of your OWN to fall back on. “ CHEER UP, nate, ” she adds after a rather depressing reply in her opinion. ayla had her many faults : not taking other people’s self-deprecation was one of them ( or wasn’t one of them ; depends how you look at it ). “ hot wife, a sexy paying job, crazy fans : it could be SO much worse. ”
paparazzi was the last thing seven was worrying about. she knew exactly what she signed up for when she gained her stardom , so the fact that they were sniffing around like rats looking for cheese didn’t phase the brooklyn native. plus , she was dressed to the nines & she was not going to turn down a photo-op. “ who has a plan when it comes to the paps unless you’re calling them on yourself ? i am the furthest thing from pathetic , so that isn’t the case. ” seven replied before making obvious poses to let it be known that she knew they were snapping pictures. “ hm , i might as well do something worth their time since they obviously aren’t here for you. ”
-
a frown crosses ayla's features, gaze steadily on her laptop screen though she can still see the girl posing out of the corner of her eye. she's not entirely sure what the other means by obviously — besides that it's likely a dig on her character. it's the truth though, ayla's never been sought out after unless it was on someone else's behalf : her brother, her father, a good friend from college. and now, no doubt, they'd followed singer, songwriter SEVEN here and not the sports photographer ignored by most even in her own field. that kind of fame was never the type she sought out anyway. she shrugs, frown flattening out into a more neutral expression. " yeah, true but isn't DOING something for them still a plan ?? " she asks, " i mean that sounds like a plan to me. "
nate doesn’t think he looks good — not unless the definition of the word has recently been changed to mean the same thing as uncomfortable, which he doubts ( although in all fairness, he hasn’t actually checked ). he doesn’t feel as out of place as he does at the awards shows and premiere parties that he often attends as devin’s date, but no matter where he is, he can never quite relax when he’s wearing a stiff suit. nate peeled off his jacket and loosened his tie the moment that most of the cameras had disappeared. “two hours, but it still feels like it was only five minutes ago,” he joked. in reality, much of the embarrassment had already faded … until he peered over ayla’s shoulder and saw the picture. “ah, shit.” it seemed to get worse the longer he looked at it, new mortifying details jumping out from every inch of the screen. “doesn’t she own the lakers?” nate asked with a grimace, referring to the woman whose dress he was pictured dousing in champagne. he tipped his head back and groaned. “welp, there go my season tickets. i’m gonna be banned from staples center for the rest of my life.”
—
" does she ?? " ayla tilts the camera back toward her so she can see it better, a few more clicks of a button zooms in on the woman's face ( expression still HILARIOUS, if you ask ayla ). she tries to remember her half-hearted reconnaissance on the lakers back when ryan had asked her to shoot some games but there is a big fat blank square where LAKERS' OWNER ought to be. deeming remembering a lost cause, her shoulders rise in a shrug, gaze back on nate ( she is enjoying this, just a little ). " couldn't tell you. maybe. could tell you that i bet that dress costs a pretty penny, though. " another click and the screen goes dark once again, camera lowered and settled back along her hip. lips purse as she surveys him, tone bemused as she finally speaks again, " i don't get it. you're an athlete, how can you possibly be that uncoordinated ALL the time. or is it like a thing that only works on the diamond or something — a curse ?? have you been cursed by an enemy ?? a rival ?? "
renan’s texting when he hears ayla’s approaching footsteps, and he immediately discards his phone in the island to turn around and look at her ( his brother’s complaining can wait, renan has a pretty girl to unsuccessfully woo ). he’s smiling, but a bit sheepishly — he kind of feels like an intruder now, temporarily abandoned by his fake girlfriend who also happens to be his chauffeur most of the time. “ sorry, ” renan apologizes, a hand reaching to run through the back of his hair, “ she said she had to get something for you at her place, so i’m just, you know, waiting around. ” it’s a vague explanation, but he didn’t exactly retain what thea had said before she rushed to leave. with two languages bouncing around in a very small brain, sometimes things cancel each other out. “ you look pretty, ” he abruptly says, an earnest statement that’s his best attempt at trying to diffuse the awkwardness creeping up. with ayla, he’s pretty sure it won’t work, but he keeps BLABBING anyways. “ you’re always so pretty, it makes me so — ” he gestures randomly near his head to substitute for words, trying to symbolize his brain short-circuiting.
-
brows raise slightly as he calls her pretty ( almost heartbreakingly sincere, despite the fact there are times she looks a lot better than minutes after stepping out of the shower ) — not exactly a NEW occurrence from him ever since they first met, but something she is privately mildly surprised he hasn't given up on so far. then again, it's leagues better than some of the locker room talk she has had the great misfortune to overhear, even if they both elicit similar outward responses from her. a roll of brown eyes and it's like play has been pushed again. she strides into the kitchen, her towel hung temporarily on the back of one of the chairs at the island before she looks at renan, smile almost RUEFUL. " you don't give up do you. " it's not really a question, more like a stated fact : she shoots with a nikon d500, renan definitely puts product in his hair, he thinks she's pretty. one of her fingers taps against the counter for a moment before she's moving away again, circling around the counter and pulling open the fridge. it's almost depressingly bare because like, fuck grocery shopping. " don't suppose she went to get me EGGS, " she jokes, though as soon as she says it she's pretty sure the jovial portion of the sentence is going to go over renan's head.
although sonia wouldn’t dare let the words fall out of her glossy lips , she actually lived for the paparazzi , her mind permanently fixated on the days of the early 2000s when celebrities would actually pose — so shit , what was wrong with giving them a little show ? though ayla’s words were most likely to warn the girl , sonia practically jumps at the opportunity to get even more attention . it was perfect for her upcoming single , after all . “ fuck , i don’t even have enough time to run in and get chanel for a cute little photo op . quick , how do i look ? “
-
the tip tap of typing pauses as ayla blinks one, mildly surprised, but then chides herself for the reaction. sonia's paparazzi photos rarely looked UNCOMFORTABLE, one of the rare people who looked candid even when she wasn't. gaze takes quick stock of her outfit displaying a fashion sense ayla had neither the desire nor ability to replicate, " uh — fine, " she says. a pause. then a hasty, " i mean, great. really. nothing you should be worried about, like, at all. you're looking way better than anyone who's come in here so far. "
the girl couldn’t be more right; decades with flashing cameras constantly following your every step will quickly turn it into the norm and make you desensitized to creeps hiding behind bushes. he only spares the pap a quick glance, raising a hand in a mocking wave before he settles his sight back at the real photographer. ❛ i did go a little crazy with my coffee order, ❜ he quips. ❛ i hope it makes the front page. ❜ he absolutely does not. the days of making headlines for ridiculous behavior were behind him, or so he hoped. ❛ what’s getting your lens attention these days? ❜
“ hmmmm — ” the noise is mockingly thoughtful, chin tipping upward as she gives him his full attention, hands clasp under her chin momentarily. “ did you change your milk ?? because that’s definitely grounds for some hot gossip, i think. five hundred words ?? a thousand even ?? ” she flashes him a smile, reaching for her own drink, the ice rattling against the glass as she stirs it with her straw. “ dodgers this time of year mostly. little too much dust for my liking, honestly. but — ” she shrugs, “ — i go where i am bid for now. ”
“ dunno ‘bout that — ” the dubious note in fitz’s voice can’t be missed, gaze slated to the side as he peers down at her. the counter by the window he’s leaned up against as he waits for his coffee digs into his back slightly. “ you sure they even know who i am ?? pretty sure you’re the only one here that DOES. slice of a SLICE, right ?? ” that’s not exactly true. fitz saw the boy in the kings cap at the back of the cafe when he paid for his drink, still steeling looks at him like he wants to ask for a photo. if he were a little nicer he might go over and make the kid’s day. but he’s not. so he doesn’t.
-
“ awww — ” the typing stops as she looks up at him, hands reaching for her glass of iced white mocha. “ — are you being humble, mr. darcy ?? ” the edges of her grin are probably trending toward the shit-eating category. a brow quirks, a warning perhaps before she continues. “ i don’t know ; i think that meme of your headshot get pretty good airwaves. you NEVER know. ” it’s a little tragic actually. she took that photo, possibly unintentionally one of her better successes and her name isn’t even attached to it in any capacity.
*! afternoon jogs had become an escape for lex. they allowed her to get away from her parents without any work obligations. ( not to mention it was good cardio. ) she didn’t notice her untied shoelace until she stepped on it mid-jog, causing gravity to take its course. she makes contact with the pavement and she sits there for a moment, trying to compose herself. “let’s pretend you didn’t see that.” she speaks to the person closest to her, wiping herself off as she gets up. lex glances around momentarily, trying to spot anyone with a camera. the paparazzi probably wouldn’t be in plain sight but it didn’t hurt to check. “god, i hope this doesn’t make the news tomorrow. ‘alexandra takes a tumble’ or some ridiculous bullshit. out of all the things to talk about…” she cuts herself off. if she had continued talking, a rant would have ensued and lex was certain they weren’t in the mood to hear it. // @linksopens
she doesn't have to look far for someone with a camera. there's one in ayla's bag because she doesn't go anywhere without one. it's one of her older ones though, not her baby of a nikon with its heavy zoom lens. for once, her plans for the day don't involve shooting any athletes of the sort — at least on purpose. ayla doesn't quite recognize the pretty girl on the sidewalk, though she does look a bit familiar — she supposes that's just the story of her life ; the downside of being embroiled in a life full of sweaty athletes. her light is light in the summer air, " don't worry about it ; don't think they really hang out over here. they're probably all busy with the drama happening other side of the city or WHATEVER. "
“ i know you probably like, expect the paps to be around every moment of your life at this point — ” ayla sounds pretty unconcerned by the whole thing, nails with chipping navy polish tapping over the keys of her laptop. photo editing was easily the most tedious but also somehow also relaxing moment of the day. gaze floats up to the other, shoulders rising in a shrug, “ — but just a heads up that there’s one behind that bush over there. with a zoom lens even better than mine — so you know, don’t do anything too crazy. unless that was your plan all along. ”
“ looking good, mr. carpenter — “ ayla greets, though her tone is hardly sincere, more TEASING than polite. her camera is idle, sat snugly against her hip as it hangs on its strap ( a dark navy, constellations embroidered into it with a metallic gold thread ) from her shoulder. she is meeting dress code, if only just — her ever-present timberland boots notably absent in favor of some black flats, her dress a familiar floral number of flowy fabric that ends a few inches above her knee. “ TWO HOURS without spilling something on someone is pretty impressive — it’s a good thing they don’t allow paps in here though. just me, and my fellow pro-sports sanctioned comrades. ” she does reach for her camera at that, the screen lighting up as she hits a few buttons, clicking back a few photos with a giggle. she angles it so nate can see the shoot she’s gotten, smile wide and AMUSED, “ that being said, how MUCH do you think i could get for this one ?? ” she likes this one : the look on the woman’s face, the liquid still partially suspended in air as it leaps from the glass in nate’s hand — just absolutely DYNAMIC.
ayla returns to her kitchen, unwinding a fluffy white towel from her hair as she goes. her hair falls down across her shoulders in tangled stringy waves. she’s humming to herself —some top 40 hit she heard on the radio that won’t leave her mind— melodic enough, though she’s certainly no artist. her humming and steps pause as she takes in the sunlit warmth of her kitchen and the boy perched on a bar stool at the island counter. a frown creases her face, one foot idly shuffling against the cool titles. “ you’re STILL here ?? ” eyes dart toward the clock on the microwave, then back to the impressively styled tendrils of renan’s hair. she sounds a bit incredulous. “ weren’t you supposed to leave like twenty minutes ago ?? a date ?? mini golf or something ?? thea left like ages ago. ”
☆ . · . simay barlas, twenty-two, female, she / her . · . ☆ AYLA CLEARWATER lives in that huge mansion over there! no, not that one. look for THE LARGE NATURAL STONE FOUNTAIN and that’ll be it. the SPORTS PHOTOGRAPHER has offered occasional glimpses of LIGHT GREEN walls and an impressive collection of EMPTY PICTURE FRAMES in the background of social media posts, but all of that is nothing compared to seeing the opulence in person. they’ve remained CLEVER as ever since moving to tercet court one year ago, but it seems like they might’ve gotten a little more of NARCISSISTIC too. maybe that’s why they’re rumored to have such a FRIENDLY relationship with everyone else who lives on this street. ☆ . · . ooc info: ollie, they/them, 21, est . · . ☆
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘
— she was adopted when she was just under two years old from turkey, so the clearwaters have always felt like her family to her. she knew the greater part of growing up that she was adopted, it just never was an issue for her. it was a fact, but it really wasn’t an important fact. she has no desire to try to find her birth parents or family, though she has visited turkey.
— the clearwaters are a triple threat in sports : her grandfather retired mlb player and coach, her father a retired prominent defenseman in the nhl and current dartmouth men’s hockey coach, and her older brother ( 26 ) is making a splash in his third year in the nfl as a wide receiver. however, her parents made sure she and her brother had a ( fairly ) average “middle class” bringing up, though they had their fair share of money in the bank. didn’t have to struggle, really, but didn’t get everything she wanted either. had a summer job scooping ice cream for two years in high school.
— grew up in norwich, vt, real big on nature and hiking and all that jazz and lowkey misses it in the heart of la.
— when she was ten she got one of those kid’s polaroid cameras ( u know the ones where the film is only a little bigger than a postage stamp ) and she was obsessed. she worked her way up through cameras over the years, having a natural eye for it.
— one of the first games she ever shot was one of her brother’s high school football games which sounds sweet but it was actually because she was so bored out of her mind and wanted something to do. needless to say, though, that was the start of it. some might say it was kind of inevitable she gravitated toward sports somehow — she was a clearwater at heart. since then she has gained a lot of knowledge and respect for all different kinds of sports.
— for college she was torn between dartmouth and nyu. she ultimately chose nyu because it was somewhere new.
— she went to nyu for advertising and photography, shooting various nyu sports teams while she was there and throughout her years, managed to shoot a few rangers, knicks, and yankees games as well. she held two summer internships with the yankees ( on her own merits or because of her family name, she may never truly know ) and ultimately graduated from nyu a year early.
— she then spent the better part of a year after graduation road tripping as you do and ended up in california. it’s all about who you know, and in picking up a favor for a friend in cali she stumbled into the perfect opportunity. from there she landed a role on the company that handles the photography for staples center and other notable teams, most notably the kings, lakers, and dodgers ( photography company based on this irl one ).
— she moved into tercet court not long after she knew she would be in la for much of the time being. it’s definitely not her house, considering she makes just enough to live on. it’s a family home, purchased initially by her father who’d wanted to sink some money into tangible assets instead of the stock market and to have a west-coast home available for the family. hey, worked out pretty well for her.
— she has predominately been tasked with shooting the kings the past year or so, though she started with shooting dodgers games last summer and is doing so this summer as well. she’s also shot a handful of lakers’ games when a friend needs someone to cover. three of her photos so far have been used in large ads and banners in the city ( including most recently her current MONEY SHOT of the game winning goal in a come back win ) --- very cool moment for her. several others have been used by local publications and websites.
— she does a little freelance work as well ; mostly for friends or friends of friends, though she’s been considering lately trying to make her skills and business available in a more professional manner. she does do a lot of photographing for herself --- a lot of candids ; she thinks they capture the true spirit of a person moreso than when they’re posing or prepared for a photo. but not in a creepy way --- she’s been the victim of the paps enough times by association with her family to know the correct boundaries and limits.
𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂
— lowkey loves playing games with the paps, though she’s probably the only one that finds it funny. as a photographer herself she has a good eye for where they’re hiding and will also snap photos of them in turn just for her own amusement.
— she hopes someday to be the team photographer for a team, hopefully in one of the “big four” ( nfl, nhl, nba, mlb )
— she played field hockey and lacrosse through high school.
— ayla thinks she’s better at shooting people. part of what she loves about being a sports photographer is how active and unpredictable it is to shoot a game. she’s had to learn a lot to try to predict what she can.
— very much a morning person. has never had a problem waking up in the morning. who’s jealous bc i am. goes for a run at sunrise, and has showered, gotten ready for the day, and is at a local cafe shop editing photos / making graphics and drinking an iced mocha by 8. truly couldn’t be me...
— so desperately wants to be that girl with tons of cute aesthetic plants in her apartment but tragically plants always die in her care no matter what she does. probably has gotten one of those tiny tabletop sand zen gardens to make herself feel better tho she still keeps trying with plants. so far the only ones that have lived any length of time are the air plants.
— she really wants a greyhound but is afraid to make the commitment to actually adopting one.
— her personal insta ( the non-sports one ) has a modest following. a few thousand, probs.
— she has struggled a bit with people who think her opportunities have only arisen because of her family pedigree ( which some have gone so far to tell her they’re “not her family” --- which, don’t even go there, lads... ), and that has made ayla work all that much harder to prove that she’d gotten where she has on her own merits.
— she has a rule ( and in the case of the nhl there is a rule enforced by a signed contract ) about not getting involved with anyone she shoots ; it’s considered a conflict of interest. i imagine she has a really good relationship with the players though --- probably doesn’t hurt that she is pretty. at least one of them have hired her to shoot their wedding this summer even though she is wildly under qualified.
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘
alya is a chill and laidback person at heart. her approach to the fame attached to her due to her father and brother has been to laugh it off good-naturedly. she’s generally well liked, with a hint of sass and humor. she comes across as a bit of an air-head at times, but that’s part due to a persona she put on from a young age. she has an observant eye that drew to her photography in the first place and will often allow her to draw certain conclusions about people. she’s well versed in all the sports she shoots, something that tends to surprise a lot of people, but how is she supposed to be good at her job if she isn’t ? if she gets bothered during games she typically shuts people down with wide eyes and some obscure bit of knowledge in her cute, raspy lil voice. dareisay... elle woods, what like it’s hard ? energy ??
a few of her downfalls include her narcissism and need to be liked. she looks to look and feel pretty, by her own standards, and is a queen of the self-timer and remote self photography : has two instas because of it -- one for her sports photography and one that’s a “personal” and mostly just pictures of herself. her need to be liked is something she doesn’t even realize. she likes to be seen in a positive light.
𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
alya stands at 5′4″ with a slim but athletic build. her hair is naturally brown, but is dyed to have blonde highlights. she does not need glasses or contacts and has no tattoos.
she’s almost always wearing the same pair of beat up timberland’s she’s owned since freshman year of college. she likes to be able to move easily ( bc homegirl absolutely cannot walk in heels at all ). despite what the tabloids like to call her unfortunate choice in footwear, she likes to look cute, often pairing them with short, flowy sundresses or skirts + crop tops. when she shoots games, however, she’s dressed rather practically in skinny jeans, a crop top, and a cardigan. her hair is often kept down and loose, or in a messy bun.
𝐎𝐎𝐂
it me. ollie again. i also play fitz ( miguel bernardeau fc ). yes the overlap between fitz and ayla is not great but i truly only know one thing that that one thing is hockey asldfalsdjf sO. if y’all seeing me rping with myself on the dash bc i think it’d be fun to bounce fitz and ayla off each other mind ur own business...
