Crowds drew Onyx’s attention particularly during moments when he didn’t know why there was a crowd in the first place. Really, looking back on it, it should have been more obvious and partway through he regretted seeking out an answer. It was too late now, he decided, he was already committed and he couldn’t just stop and turn away now.
So Onyx slipped between gathering bodies with little word like a snake weaving through unkept grass and stopped at the fringes, looking exactly where everyone else’s attention seemed to be directed. Fans, he guessed, approached her for photos and after a certain point of watching them struggle and embarrass themselves, Onyx offered to photograph them — people handing over their devices to him never stopped being surprising. The amount of hidden fun he could have without them knowing until after was like capturing small moments of something special and temporary.
One of the things he did was snap a photo of their legs then — as he claimed — get their phone accidentally locked for forty-five minutes. “Yikes,” He ran a hand through his hair, grimaced and glimpsed at the spotted celebrity pointing others towards Lin Manuel Miranda’s direction. “Sorry. I don’t know how that happened... Yeah, yeah, I got the pic- Yeah, totally.” The fan looked more confused than upset but he knew that would change later. Maybe.
Another person side-eyed him as if they saw or knew what he did. Maybe. He stepped away from them but looked back at the person of the hour, “So, uh, how often does this kind of thing happen?” He motioned around, referring to the fans and the picture taking.