📸🗲
“Patrick is today’s subject,” Stevie whisper-shouts, like David is stupid or something. Like he’s stupider.
And yes, now that he’s getting a good look, he can see the resemblance to the grainy photographs in the binder. To be fair, Patrick is dressed much like the rest of the roadies: jeans and a bulky jacket in a pattern of the kind lumberjacks favour. A woollen hat perches just above his ears, which are currently turning a pretty shade of pink under David’s scrutiny. There’s still a hint of smirk about his smile, though, and David isn’t too sure what to make of that.
“Um. Right. Of course you are. I’m the—David. The photographer. I’m photographing this shoot.” It’s among the least impressive introductions David has ever made, but partway through Patrick takes off his jacket, revealing a hoodie with a couple of holes near the neckline and drawing David’s attention to the yellow leather gloves tucked into the pocket of some … some very snug jeans. He’s honestly not sure whether he’s horrified or aroused.
