Page 55 of Dark Room Junkie

How much did he notice?

I stroked his temple, his cheek, down to his neck. He was so beautiful, almost flawless. My gaze wandered over his shoulder, where in the dim light I studied his tattoos. A huge octopus adorned his right upper arm. And from the elbow to the wrist, the long octopus arms mingled with demons and occasional texts. His hand rested on the pillow, and I noticed his battered knuckles, which appeared to have collided with a wall. Gradually, I recognized what lay beneath the black drawings that covered his entire arms and concealed a multitude of scars. So many scars. Large and small. Long and round.

Cigarette butts?

Knives?

Damn!

The longer I studied his body, the more baffled I became, wondering how I could have missed this before. But the last time he was here, he wore a long-sleeved shirt to sleep. And during our first encounter, I probably just didn’t pay attention. Why should I? The guy exuded so much charm and sex appeal that it could make someone lose their sight and hearing just from his smile. And when I heard him sing and saw him move, as lascivious and graceful as a cat ...

Is it all just a facade?

I couldn’t and didn’t want to believe it. Noé radiated too much strength. It would have taken too much energy if all of this had been just a facade. But then I remembered the brief moments that were more real than any others. The moments when I could see behind his mask and discovered so much more than I ever thought possible.

And suddenly it was clear to me.I have to photograph him.

16

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Noé

I had long gotten used to the fact that nights weren’t particularly relaxing. My sleep was restless and full of unpleasant dreams. So it surprised me even more that I woke up for the third time in Alex’s bed, and this time, I actually felt quite refreshed. Not even Tom’s couch could achieve that. Even the nightmare faded into the background, and my mother’s abuse didn’t haunt me into reality.

The blinds were half open, and it was already bright outside. I lay there for a while, watching the passing clouds in the hazy sky. I listened for traffic noises, but the only thing I heard was my own breathing. Not even a sound in the apartment.

Alex is probably already at work—wherever that is.

Tired, I woke myself up by rubbing my face and shuffled to the bathroom. I treated myself to a thorough shower with all the extras. When I finished, I found my clothes neatly folded on the chair.

I left the room to get my phone since I had no idea what time it was. But in the hallway, I hesitated when I noticed the light next to the darkroom door. The lamp wasn’t glowing red like it did back when Alex first showed me the darkroom. This time, the light was white.

Does that mean he’s here but not working in the red light?

I wasn’t sure. Despite the black curtain serving as an additional barrier, I didn’t dare to enter, so I knocked and cautiously opened the door.

“Alex?”

“Come in!”

I closed the door behind me and pushed aside the curtain. The room wasn’t particularly brightly lit. It smelled of chemical substances, probably developer or whatever it was called. The walls were wallpapered with black and white photographs showing various men and women. Numerous negatives lay on the light table, and the lines were full of fresh photos.

Of me.

Sleeping.

Close-up.

My jaw dropped. My breath caught.

What the ...?

In the midst of it all, Alex sat, glancing up from his laptop. “Hello, sleepyhead,” he said enthusiastically.

“What is this?” I managed to get out.

Alex rose from his chair and trudged toward me. “As you know, I’m planning an exhibition, and there’s also this book. Please! Just take a deep breath and listen to me before you freak out.”

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