You Are Most Beautiful Through the Lens Chapter 2

When I met Ethan in person, I realized he was taller than he looked in his photos—at least 6'1".

Standing in the sunlight, wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans with a professional camera bag on his back, he smiled to reveal slightly crooked canine teeth.

He looked clean and radiant.

"Hey, Skylar?" He greeted me first, his voice pleasant. "Thanks for letting me have the ticket."

"No problem."

We walked into the exhibition hall together.

Ethan clearly knew a lot about Annie Leibovitz’s work.

Before every piece, he would stop and whisper the story behind it to me.

"Look at this one," he pointed to a black-and-white portrait. "This is the last photo Annie took of John Lennon. Five hours after this was taken, Lennon was shot."

"So this photo..."

"Became eternal." He turned to look at me, his eyes intense. "That’s the meaning of photography. To turn the most precious moments into forever."

I suddenly thought of Tyler.

He had said similar things.

But when Tyler said it, I always felt like he was just listening to himself talk. When Ethan said it, he was genuinely sharing.

"Skylar?" Ethan noticed I had zoned out.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

"It’s okay." He didn’t pry. Instead, he continued walking. "Come on, let me show you my favorite series."

We stopped in front of a series of female portraits. Different ages, different races, but every single one was full of power.

"Annie never shoots women to look weak or just 'pretty'," Ethan said softly. "She captures power. She captures the real soul."

Looking at those photos, a warm current surged through my heart.

"Can I take a picture of you?" Ethan suddenly asked.

"What?"

"The lighting here," he pointed to the natural light spilling down from the skylight. "It suits you perfectly. And..."

He paused.

"You look beautiful standing in front of these works."

My face suddenly felt hot.

Tyler always said I wasn’t photogenic, that he couldn’t take photos of me that were "Instagram-worthy."

"I’m probably not very photogenic—"

"Who said that?" Ethan interrupted me, a trace of displeasure in his tone. "Trust me, the problem isn’t you."

He raised his camera and looked at me through the viewfinder.

In that moment, I felt a sense of being valued that I had never felt before.

Click, click, click.

He took a dozen shots, then handed the camera to me. "Look."

I stared at the screen. I almost couldn’t recognize myself.

The girl in the photo had determined eyes and a genuine smile. She was glowing.

"This is... me?"

"That is you," Ethan said earnestly. "It’s just that the person photographing you before didn’t see it."

That sentence was like a needle, gently pricking a soft spot in my heart.

As we left the exhibition, Ethan suddenly asked, "Can I post those photos on Instagram?"

"Of course."

"Then..." He smiled, looking a bit shy. "Can I buy you dinner next time? As a thank you for the ticket."

I looked at him standing in the sun, looking a bit nervous, and felt my heartbeat skip a beat.

"Okay."