Page 1 of Until The Stars Don't Shine

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He pored over the grainy photographs that covered the length of one wall.

Rubbed his eyes that were stinging from hours of staring, hours of working in the airless, dark, and dank room.

Stuck in a haphazard fashion, the photographs overlapped one another, blocking out much of the shot though that was of no importance.

Whether it was the row of snooty shops on Rodeo Drive that he wasn’t brave enough to go into, or the grounds of the luxury estate that she called home, he didn’t care what was in the background.

Only the person who had been carefully framed in the center of each photograph mattered.

He waited in the near blackness, breath held as he slid the exposed sheet into the tray of developer solution. Picking up the end of the tray, he agitated it, letting the chemical wash over every inch of the sheet.

The acrid smell of the solution stung his nose and often gave him a headache, but there was no other choice: he couldn’t have these photographs developed at a store — not if he didn’t want to raise alarm bells.

It was a small price to pay for the miracle at hand.

He waited, calmly watching the liquid squish back and forth, knowing that patience was a virtue. It had been a hard lesson to learn as a young boy, but he could see now that he had benefited from it, and while he didn’t cherish the memories, he had begrudgingly learned from them.

A picture of himself came into his mind, of a skinny, starving, small-even-for-his-age four-year-old, sucking his thumb and sobbing into his mother’s chest.

He hadn’t eaten since the night before. When would food be coming?Patience child,had always been the answer. We’re all hungry. As soon as we have some money, we’ll get food.

He needed to study, but the lights wouldn’t work, why weren’t they turning on?Patience child, we just need the electricity to switch back on… once we’ve paid the bill.

After walking hours to get home from school in the pouring rain with shoes whose soles had eroded away, he’d pleaded for a new pair only to be told:patience child, one day we’ll have enough money that you won’t ever have to worry about holes in your shoes.

How well that patience was serving him now.

He stared at the print, his mind playing over those desperately unhappy periods of his childhood as again, he wondered how life could be so unfair to some yet overload others with so many blessings that they couldn’t even count them.

He ruminated over his lot, until, after some time had passed, the magic began.

The outline of her hair appeared first.

Thin gray lines that would go on to form the darkest part of the image. Then the skimpy brown bikini she had worn on the day that only just covered her parts. Line by line, section by section, she appeared on the print.

He recalled the moment he had captured her in his lens as if it were yesterday.

It had been a stifling Californian summer’s day. Throughout the city, its citizens had taken refuge from the sun’s relentless heat however they could. She, of course, utilized her family’s spectacular infinity pool that overlooked the ocean.

As usual, she had been on her own.

In all the time he had watched her, outside of her family and two failed short-lived relationships, she never seemed to have many friends. Then again, it wasn’tthatsurprising: you only had to dig a little under the surface to uncover what lay beneath.

Despite how often he stared at her, the sight of her beautiful face with that wanton body still caused an unwelcome reaction in him. Feeling the heat surging through, he had to close his eyes and force himself to remember the truth.

Beneath that angelic face lay a monster.

He had studied her for hours as she’d first swam, then sunbathed while reading a screenplay beneath a wide-brimmed straw hat. He’d zoomed in with his camera, hoping to see what had captured her attention so fully. It would have been fortuitous if it was something he could use to expose just how two-faced she was, but the lens on his camera hadn’t been up to the job.

The one he’d wanted to use was far too expensive for him to afford.

His stomach clenched at the thought, at how unfair it was that she had everything handed to her on a silver platter — not even silver… gold — while he’d had to struggle quite so much.

Shehad never starved or worried about what she could and couldn’t afford. He doubted she’d ever even considered the price of a purchase, not with the kind of wealth her parents commanded. He didn’t know the exact number that they were worth, but Entertainment Tonight had listed it as at least nine figures.

And theirhome?

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