Seagulls and Champagne

Chris stepped out of the lift and onto the rooftop feeling slightly out of place.

It wasn’t that she’d never been to a party before but tonight was different. She hadn’t been out in ages, not having the energy or the motivation to socialise or dress up. A cozy evening in was what she loved more than anything else, still did, by the way. Then her friend Yussuf had called. He’d been invited to the exclusive midsummer party an annual event organised by a local but pretty high-profile business he was working at. Apparently, the CEO was obsessed with Swedish midsummer events, since he had once taken part in one while on holiday in Sweden.

‘Perfect reason to throw a short notice networking event, isn’t it?!’, her friend Yussuf, long suffering event manager, had complained about two weeks ago. Despite him being already halfway on his way to Spain with his partner, he had to organise a 250 people networking event last minute. Unfortunately, or maybe luckily, Chris still owed him a favour. Now Yussuf, had suggested that since her social life had been non-existent ever since COVID had hit and she had only just quit her job, she should be the designated photographer for the night. Lots of not so lovely people, a bit of jazz music, way too much champagne. It sounded exactly like the event Chris would have turn down in an instant. Too many false pleasantries, to little honest emotions. Still, she seemed to have no choice but to say yes. That or having to deal with Yussuf spamming her inbox with possible job positions or new office spaces and urging her to get her creative bones back into place. She was old enough to do that herself, thank you very much. So, yes to the event photoshoot it was. And she didn’t even have Yussuf at her side to get through it. No, somehow, despite being the event organiser and as such in charge of the evening, his holiday plans with his partner remained intact. Which would see him board a plane to Spain a day before the event itself, And Chris, for the hell of it, couldn’t understand how he managed to keep the days off in the first place. Not that she would need any more of them.

About two months ago Chris had handed in her notice at the company she worked for, for four years. She would now call that phase of her life her ‘creative stagnation turned meltdown’. She’d never thought she would stay there forever, certainly not eight whole years, but after almost a year of unemployment and really quite tired of freelancing, she’d decided to apply for jobs in graphic design departments. Then, she had gotten so used to her new 9 to 5 lifestyle and the security that came along with it. She had been sure that after ten years of freelancing and doing the odd job here and there, she had finally settled. Done the ‘done’ thing for once. She was happy. Well, she was supposed to be happy.  Apparently, that wasn’t the case. And Yussuf, ever the observer, had told her many times throughout the past years that she had lost her creative spark. He never meant to offend her when he had told her that her photos no longer carried meaning. ‘Are you sure this is it?’, he would ask. ‘Is this enough for you?’ And time and time again Chris had defended her job and life only for Yussuf to be proven right after all.

If she was being honest, she came to hate her job. The product shots every three months gave her nothing. Neither gave the edit process afterwards or the feeling to see her shots on big posters throughout the city, sometimes the country. Chris the ever-changing free spirit, never quite able to stay still for too long, always looking for new ideas, new places to go, new inspiration, was at a loss. She was a photographer, an artist at heart. She once had a studio and took on bookings for weddings and events similar to the midsummer one, but every now and then, she would close it temporarily to travel around. Sometimes she’d travel around the world, sometimes she would stay fairly close to home, but she was always looking for stories that people had to tell that could fit perfectly into a single frame. Then COVID had hit. She was forced to stay in the country, had to cancel all the bookings. When things failed to get better in late 2020, she had to make a choice. Gamble for her savings to get her through some more months? Or take a 9-to-5 job until the worst was over? At the time it had been going into graphic design and marketing or not being able to pay the bills anymore. At 25 she would have chosen not to pay the bills, to do a bit of house-hopping and crashing with her friends. At 38 and almost a year of lockdown and next to no income she had chosen to play it save. She’d taken the graphic design job. It had given her a steady income, but it had drained her terribly. The routine, the predictability of it all. Simply having to do the same thing over and over again exhausted her professionally. So, maybe the prospect of shooting anything else but bottles of body oils and cosmetic products wasn’t that bad after all. And when Yussuf told her where the event would take place, she had the hope that evening might spark her creativity after all.

+++

Quite frankly, Linda had no idea why she had chosen to accept a last-minute invitation to join her best friend as a plus one for a networking event. First of all, she had no idea what the networking was for. Secondly, if Mariana had wanted to network, why bring a friend? Thirdly, if said event was ‘the one chance to quick-start my career, Linda’, then why bloody cancel the moment Linda had entered the lift to the event venue. In hindsight, it had been truly idiotic to agree to meeting on the rooftop terrace, but then that was Mariana for you. Now, Linda wasn’t angry with her friend bailing, but rather–

Well, actually, she was angry. She was, to put it mildly, fucking furious. She had been looking forward to an evening out after the hell of a time that was her break up and divorce that followed. This could have been the perfect opportunity to talk about her immature orange of an ex, while getting free drinks, free food and quite possibly one or the other compliment from lovely strangers. It didn’t matter if they meant it or not. It boosted Linda’s confidence that was what mattered. Now, she could still get the free food and drink, but the compliments were a lot harder to get when you weren’t simply introduced to people by your friend who knew them already.

Linda sighed. There was no use being angry about Mariana. She came here to have an evening without the baggage of her past. For one night only, she wanted to ignore the last few exhausting months. Have fun, talk to people, maybe suggest her company do the catering the next time. Simply live a little, she hadn’t been able to do that while fighting to keep the money she worked for and not lose it in some shitty divorce-deal. She had, in fact, kept her money. And with it the means to get her new lovely #9e5480 coloured dress. How she knew the exact colour of the dress? Linda had requested it, obviously. And no, it wasn’t originally for this event. Two weeks would have been a bit too short notice to get the specific colour. The dress had been hanging in her wardrobe for a while. She had had it made from the money her ex had to pay her solicitor and thusly her, since it was the money Linda got back from winning the trial. Money finally worth spent because she was finally able to wear the dress.

After the few minutes spent in the lift to the rooftop, the door finally opened, and Linda stepped outside and the still warm late summer air. There were people already mingling on the rooftop, chatting, sipping from their champagne flutes. God, they must the whole fridge full of that stuff. They probably had not just the one fridge, come to think of it. Linda took her own flute off the table next to her and tried to get a first overview of the event. There was a little stage with a jazz group currently playing. In Linda’s opinion they should replace that right trumpet. Or give him a dampener. In front of the stage was a little bit of space, possibly to leave room if some people wanted to dance. Right in front of her and on the left to what was a rather pitiful attempt at a dancefloor some cocktail tables stood lined up. Behind that was the catering. Not impressive, Linda thought.

She turned left and went towards the edge of the rooftop where some more tables were put up in front of the glass railing. Beyond that an unrestricted view of the sea opened up in front of Linda. Definitely top marks for the location. As far as Linda could remember the building had been constructed some years back and the opening must have been somewhen in the summer of 2019. It had been shortly after she’d been down at the seaside for the first time. After her mother had died and left her the house that ever since, had become her home for the summer. She hadn’t been at the opening of the building itself, to unimportant to get an invitation. And since then, she’d never made it inside the building, let alone onto the rooftop. Linda clearly had been missing out. But she wasn’t even sure the building was accessible to the public. The owners were probably scared of some child ruining the glass front. Or someone trying to skydive from a building that clearly wasn’t high enough. The insurance drama. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to be the one working on that case. And after all, she was here now, enjoying the late summer sunset, a glass of what surely was hellishly expensive champagne and mediocre jazz–

Click.

Linda turned around at the sound to stand opposite a camera lens. Behind the camera she found a woman about her own age, a bit shorter than her, wearing navy loafers matching her blazer. What really caught Linda’s attention, however, were the woman’s grey eyes speckled with blue looking at her like a deer caught in the headlights. So, either Linda had just crashed the woman’s perfect shot or the woman realised that she shouldn’t be taking pictures of people without asking for their permission first. In both cases, the photo didn’t turn out as originally planned.

+++

‘Did I ruin the photo?’

Chris hardly noticed what the woman in front of her had said. Instead, her eyes were glued to the spot on the railing, where only a moment ago a seagull had sat.

‘Fuck!’, was the only thing Chris could say, ‘I wanted the seagull’

She almost sounded like a child who’d gotten the wrong birthday present and now tried to hide her disappointment. Dramatically said, the seagull felt like freedom, whereas Chris was stuck on that rooftop with a boring as fuck job and lots and lots of even more boring people. Then, she had seen the seagull, how it had landed right in Chris’ eyeline. And the moment Chris had pulled the trigger a woman with a – Chris didn’t know what the colour was – dress and a bloody champagne flute had crashed her perfect shot. Her first spark of inspiration in months, if not years. Chris sighed and hung her head in resignation.

‘I’m really sorry’, the woman tried to get Chris’ attention, ‘Is there any chance the photo isn’t completely ruined?’

Hearing the last part of a sentence, Chris looked up to find a woman’s warm but mildly alarmed eyes. Chris was confused by her presence before she remembered. Right, she’d sworn. At the woman. Great.

‘No, shit. I’m sorry for the f–bomb. I was just somewhere else. With the photo. Sorry’

Incoherent. Very professional.

‘You were doing your job–’

‘Which doesn’t include swearing at guests. Nor taking photos of seagulls, come to think of it’

For some reason Chris couldn’t understand, her comment made the woman huff out a genuine laugh. And that made Chris smile at her in return. At least one acceptable and not so stuck-up person at the event tonight.

‘Well, what about your seagull photo?’, the woman asked.

‘I– really don’t think there is anything I can salvage there’, Chris resigned.

Despite her doubts of the photo being any good, Chris held her camera in front of her eyes to look through the projectile and at her photos. She flicked through some she’d already taken during the course of the evening. Not bad, she thought about most of them. Yussuf and his friends at PR would be pleased. One crisis averted. And even though Chris wouldn’t consider the job tonight the most thrilling one – it certainly was routine more than anything else – she was fucking good at photography. It also felt pretty good to know that she was still able to catch some magic with people instead of random cosmetic products, which were hardly capable of showing emotions. One of the photos was a couple dancing to the screaming trumpet. Another one saw some of Yussuf’s crew that Chris had captured mid laugh and mid bite. Chris had to press her lips together in order to hide the grin she felt would have been creeping on her face. She quickly glanced toward the woman who she found looking at her already as if trying to read her mind. Nobody had tried to do that in quite a while. And surely not with an intense stare that pierced right through her. Chris shook her head almost unnoticeably, trying to get her focus back to the camera and her photos. She pressed the button some more times before she finally reached the latest picture she had taken. She drew in a breath the moment she first saw the photo. Chris had never meant to take a photo like that today. An honest one. The woman in the picture was a bit blurry – motion blur, clearly – already halfway out of the frame again, slightly off centre. There was no seagull to be seen. Instead, a glass of champagne had found the centre, sparkling right with the first stars that had started to appear in the slowly darkening sky. A sky, which still saw the clearest blue dancing with orange and rosé tones. Chris slowly lowered her camera to look at the woman with wide, glassy eyes.

+++

‘So?’, Linda asked, ‘Can you still make some money with it?’

An already familiar ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look had returned to the woman’s face,334 but it wasn’t quite the same as before. Were there. . . tears in her eyes? Suddenly, the woman’s eyes seemed much clearer, less shocked, but the tears remained.

‘I think I can, yeah’, the woman replied, ‘Thank you’

Linda shot the woman a somewhat irritated look but hoped she still communicated the silent ‘you’re welcome’ gesture. Linda had meant it as a joke, actually. The thing with the money. She knew that there were professional photographers present at the event and the way it appeared to her, the woman must be one of them. The woman wouldn’t get paid per picture but for her taking lots of pictures over the course of the whole night. Or maybe she was really just another person here for the networking of it all. Or she had managed to sneak in? Get in to enjoy the view. Time to find out!

‘So, you here to find shots for your next exhibition or the secure paycheck?’

The woman blinked. Linda kicked herself internally. What was it with her and money tonight?! Bit blunt, even for her. Linda was about to counter her own words with a quick remark but before she had the chance the woman had burst out laughing. Linda released a breath. No offense taken then. Good for her. Although she doubted, she could be thrown out of an event for offending the photographer. Yet, stranger things have happened.

‘The paycheck’, the woman answered after she had stopped laughing, ‘Obviously’

The woman walked past her and toward a table close to the railing, where Linda was headed before the ‘click’ had interrupted her. Linda followed and no two seconds later they stood at the table together. From a spot that close to the railing they could overlook the city and the sea ahead. After quickly admiring the scenery, she turned her attention back to the woman, whose entire attitude had changed. Her shoulders hung a little lower, so did her head. It didn’t look like shrinking though. It seemed the woman had just gotten rid of stress which had kept her on her toes and upright. Still, Linda could make out her eyes. They looked overshadowed by something.

‘You don’t take a job like this because of its artistic value. You take it to pay the bills’, the woman stopped there for a moment, ‘Well, you learn to take jobs like these to pay the bills.

Now it was Linda to stand there speechless and with her eyes open. She hoped she didn’t quite have the same deer-caught-in-the-headlights-look the woman had before. Linda, again, hadn’t expected an answer. Let alone one that was as honest as what the woman had just shared.

‘That sounds very. . . realistic. Much more disappointing than my original theory of you being here’

‘Which would be?’

‘I actually thought you might have managed to sneak in. Enrich your portfolio with some stunning sunset shots’, Linda said teasingly.

The photographers face went a little pink as if caught. Wonderfully done! Linda had made her even more uncomfortable. And the situation was already awkward enough from where Linda was standing. Why were they even still talking? That’s not how these things worked, was it? Accidental photo. Followed by a quick ‘sorry’. Everyone goes their separate ways again. Linda to the bar. The woman would disappear among the other guests again, taking more stills of the event. Yet here they were. A woman trying to pay the bills and Linda looking for a fun night out after an exhausting divorce. Oh, right and after Mariana having ditched her. At least she wasn’t the only one ditched. The woman seemed to have it worse with having been ditched by imagination. They certainly made for an interesting combination. They could both do with some cheering up. So, Linda took a chance.

‘Would you like a glass of champagne?’

+++

Sorry, would she what?!

Chris had been prepared for anything, even to be reported and replaced for snapping at a guest, but not for the woman offering her a drink. And if Chris was honest with herself, she had been quite rude. And if it had been anyone other than the woman crashing her shot, that someone else might have really gone all the way to file a complaint. Not that that would have cost her the job. Well, the payment anyway. It was Yussuf in charge after all. Her best friend. And while his team would follow the wishes of the guest and remove her from the event, Yussuf would hand her the cheque even if she were to punch someone in the face. God, now she really made herself sound like a person without any self-control. Yussuf knew that she wouldn’t go that far, Chris would stop at pouring champagne over someone and he was fine with that. He just wanted some decent photos for PR, is what he had told her. However, Chris had suspected that his main motive in giving her the job was to get Chris out of her creative and personal hermitage. In the beginning, she hadn’t been convinced that a corporate networking event could get her to socialise but, apparently, a photo-bomb of a stranger was all that was needed to get her to talk to someone new. A seagull replaced by a glass of champagne.

‘I don’t drink anymore’, Chris blurted out.

Maybe Chris would slap someone tonight after all. She certainly wanted to slap herself right now. Helpful. Efficient. That’s how you make new friends. Chris had to roll her eyes at herself.

‘Let’s forget that’, Chris tried again, ‘I’ll have a glass of water. God knows I need it!’

At a lack of response from the woman, Chris looked at her again. Was the woman. . . laughing at her?! What on earth had she done now to cause a reaction like that?

‘Sorry, why the hell are you laughing?’

‘It’s just–’, the woman didn’t even try to hide her smile anymore, ‘It’s all on your face!’

‘What–’, Chris was confused, it seemed visibly so.

‘Well, what you’re thinking. . . It’s rather sweet’, the woman added a little later.

The woman was definitely flustered now. It made Chris relax a bit. It even got her to smile. Nobody had ever called her sweet. Except for Yussuf when he had found her arguing with her edit software again. And that bloody thing really tried to get a raise out of her every single time. Point being, somebody had called her sweet, which was new. And maybe even a bit. . . bland? Like something you would call a child. Gosh, was she really so starved of connections that she was fishing for compliments that could be hardly considered compliments at all. Pathetic. Yussuf would have a field day with this. Maybe he had ‘Big Brothered’ the space to have a laugh afterwards. She was glad to have him.

‘My friend Yussuf is probably the only person who would call me that. Sweet’, Chris said shaking her head with a smile.

‘Maybe he set you up to charm me’, Chris continued teasingly, ‘Cause most people would call me moody. That or perpetually angry’

The woman laughed, ‘So, is moody your name then?’

‘Chris will do just fine’

Chris offered her hand for the woman to shake. The woman took her hand the moment she told Chris her name.

‘I’m Linda’

When Linda retracted her hand, she didn’t break the eye contact with Chris. God, she really had an intense gaze, Chris thought. Not uncomfortable though. No, Chris knew what uncomfortable felt like. And more often than not it equalled expectation. An expectation to deliver, to be good. At her job, in her personal life, with herself. Expectation for Chris was so inherently connected to knowledge of her as a person. Linda didn’t have that. They had only just met. Chris figured that Linda was more likely to wonder why her own camera lens was more interested in birds than the very important people making connections tonight. The connections would be strictly professional, of course. Hence why the first photo of the evening had been two people snogging right next to the lift. She wouldn’t give that to Yussuf, but at least it showed her that the event wasn’t just attended by stuck-up, selfish businesspeople. To whom Linda likely belonged, a little voice chimed in. Or so it seemed. Together they walked over to another table which had glasses filled with various drinks standing on it. Most of the drinks were alcoholic, obviously and unfortunately. Chris couldn’t find any water and instead, took the predictable champagne alternative that was orange juice. She would have a word with Yussuf about non-alcoholic beverages afterwards. Chris took a glass and saw Linda reach for her own next to her. But to her surprise it was orange juice as well.

‘No champagne?’, Chris asked confused.

‘Ha! No,’ Linda answered, ‘I would like to be able to form coherent sentences while talking with people’

However, that statement did nothing to ease Chris’ confusion. So, would Linda have continued drinking if she had been with someone else? A possible business partner perhaps? Or had she taken the juice out of solidarity with Chris? Solidarity she absolutely did not need. Thank you.

‘Wanna stay sober for your business partners?’, Chris simply asked.

‘Those would be my best friend’s business partners’, Linda started giggling a little, ‘She needs the contacts. So, she dragged me here as her plus 1’

‘Could be worse’

Rich, coming from Chris. Still, Chris clinked her glass to Linda’s and they both took a sip while looking out at the sea.

‘Oh, it can be worse’, Linda added, ‘Mariana ditched me last minute. Nerves, I think’

‘And you still came?!’

‘I was already in the lift!’

‘I’d be bloody mad!’

‘I was’, Linda took another sip, ‘Then I crashed your photo. Made my day!’

Linda nudged her shoulder against Chris’ with a teasing smile. But it didn’t fully reach her eyes. Chris could see a sadness behind that sparkle. No one’s eyes were sorrow free. Well, except for baby’s eyes but they have them closed most of the time and you can’t see them. Look into them properly. But Chris saw Linda’s eyes now. She would look into her own every day in the mirror. And she realised that their eyes looked the same. Troubled. Clouded. It softened something in Chris. To see someone with possibly struggles as her own. Logically, Chris knew she wasn’t the only person in the world struggling with life. Or Work. Or love, even. Her last girlfriend had broken up with her four weeks into lockdown. What a lovely time that had been. Nothing much had changed since then. Chris sighed.

‘Still angry about that photo?’, Linda got her attention again, ‘I thought we were over that?’

Chris turned back to Linda to see a last glimpse of Linda’s fading smile. Her face had turned apologetic again. Well, shit, that hadn’t been the plan. There wasn’t even a plan. Chris just wanted Linda’s smile back. She rather liked it.

‘Sorry, just thinking about my ex-girlfriend’, Chris confessed.

And immediately realised that a comment like that would most certainly not get Linda’s smile back. Chris internally kicked herself again. Her filter was well and truly gone. She thought she had at least recovered some degree of it. But as it seemed to much work with bottles and oils combined made her somewhat unsociable. Then she heard Linda huff. Or laugh?

‘Charming. Though, I can’t say I’m much better with my ex-wife’, Linda shared seemingly amused.

Stress on seemingly. And suddenly, the stress behind Linda’s eyes made sense. However, unlike Chris it wasn’t job related for Linda. It was the end of a long relationship.

‘Tough divorce?’, Chris asked carefully.

‘Let’s just say we didn’t part as best friends’, Linda said.

‘You still miss her?’

Linda didn’t talk for a moment. She simply stood there with her flute, looking ahead. Watching as the oranges and reds and rosés were reflected on the surface of the silent sea.

‘You know’, Linda started, ‘I was asking myself that question for a long time after I had broken up with my ex. And at first, I really thought it was her I missed. I was convinced of it actually’

Linda huffed out a laugh that turned into a sigh. It seemed like she changed her opinion about it all mid thought.

‘But I’ve thought about it more since the divorce was finalised and actually, as cold as it may sound, I simply had to get used to the empty space she left behind’

Relatable, Chris thought. How many times did she have to stop herself from diving headfirst into a new relationship after she had just come out of another one. At times she had simply confused romantical feelings with the need for a person to fill a space somebody else had left behind. Not only that. Chris had also pressured herself to finally settle in her 30s after being career-oriented for most of her adult live. And the relationships she had in the past had often failed precisely because of that one issue. Her job. Apparently, she used to be a ‘workaholic’. At least that was the breakup reason her last partner had given her after Chris had flat out refused to give up freelancing immediately after lockdown had started. If only she could have seen Chris not more than a few months later. Marketing employee at a company producing organic cosmetic products. Chris had loved Kiera. Kiera had loved her. Their lives just hadn’t been compatible. They had wanted different things. So, Kiera had left. And Chris had been left with a whole.

‘Makes sense’, Chris agreed.

‘I hope it does’, Linda said after drinking the last of her orange juice.

Linda put her glass back on the table and turned to Chris.

‘Now, what about your ex? Recent break up?’

‘God no!’, Chris clarified immediately, ‘Not at all. It’s been about five years’

Linda only frowned, ‘And you were thinking about her now because?’

Fair question. Embarrassing answer, really.

‘Actually, I was trying to get you to smile again’

And that was exactly why Chris preferred freelancing over fixed marketing jobs. If she had a slip up, she would just never work with a client again. Chris was direct at best and brusque at worst. She would often start talking without having thought first. Sometimes it was a funny thought turned into a bad joke. However, her sharing her rather negative opinion about a product campaign with the designers had happened before. And COVID had made it worse. Online sessions where Chris had been muted led to her muttering along and commenting in the safety of her own home. Something would find hard to stop as it had turned out later. Suddenly, Linda burst out laughing next to her. No offense taken, it seemed.

‘You really have no filter, do you?’

‘Unfortunately not. I’ve lost it sometime during the pandemic’

‘Good for you’

‘I’m not sure both my clients and my bank account would agree with you’

And with that, Chis drained the last of her orange juice and took Linda’s already empty glass.

‘Do you want another?’, Chris asked.

‘Only if I’m really not keeping you from work’

‘Nope’, Chris assured.

‘Then I’d like to’, Linda smiled.

+++

Not a few moments later, Linda had another glass of orange juice in her hand and was following Chris across the rooftop terrace. Well, ‘followed’. They were strolling around next to each other, shoulders brushing at times. Linda took Chris’ glass a few times for the photographer to take some more photos. ‘For Yussuf to get his money’s worth’, Chris had justified her taking more pictures. And doing her job. Even Linda pointed out some suggestions for stills. Two almost empty glasses. A younger woman taking over the stage and the trumpet to show the musician how to actually work with the dampener. Both her and Chris had a good laugh over that and gave the woman a thumps-up. Chris had explained that the woman had joined accounting at the company organising the event only some months ago but certainly was on her way up the career ladder. Not only that, she also had become an integral part of Chris’ best friend Yussuf’s friendship circle. Despite claiming that she was a solitary person, Chris was definitely close with Yussuf and some people he was working with. They must be close friends. Like her and Mariana. If she wasn’t ditching her! Linda turned to Chris, who was taking another photo.

‘Can I take a look?’, Linda asked.

‘Absolutely!’

Chris handed her the camera and Linda took it carefully. She looked through the lens to see light blue turning into navy blue. Then she could make out a crescent moon hanging in the centre of colour. When she had fully squeezed her left eye shut, Linda also saw the lower half of the photo. Under the clear sky, Chris had caught the party in motion. Not just a fraction of the people but almost all of the guests. People were talking, laughing, drinking – certainly gossiping – maybe fighting. It was a networking event, and Linda was aware that most of the guests were there for work but seemed to be enjoying themselves. The glow of lamps and fairy lights all around the rooftop only helped Chris in capturing the magic of the night. Linda returned the camera and both her and Chris lingered just a little bit as their hands touched. Eventually, she let go of the camera. However, she didn’t let go of Chris’ eyes. And neither did Chris of hers. They were both doing this then. Flirting. Both definitely attracted to the other and not even remotely subtle about it.

‘Time for a break’, Chris suggested shyly.

‘Not tired of my company yet?’, Linda teased.

‘Turns out I like having a fan club around’

‘Rude!’, Linda laughed and playfully swatted Chris’ arm before gesturing toward an empty table close to the railing again.

‘Over there?’

Chris followed her hand with her eyes and nodded affirmatively.

‘You like the view of the sea?’, Chris wanted to know.

‘I love it’, Linda said, ‘But I don’t see it often enough. So, I have to cherish it while I can’

‘You’re not local then’, Chris realised, and Linda thought she saw something dim in her eyes. Reality hitting. Barging through the door.

‘No, I’m not’, Linda affirmed.

Chance meeting, great chemistry and that was it. In the morning Linda would take the train back home and quite likely, would never see Chris again. If she were 27 and not 37, if she were not straight out of a divorce and completely and utterly tired of communicating via social media, Linda would take a chance to get to know Chris. But her own life was rooted, too settled for anything sounded only remotely like long distance. And from Chris’ face alone, it looked like it was the same for her.

‘Shame’, was the only thing Chris said.

They went right past the table, only stopping for Chris to put her camera there, and opted for the railing instead. Linda stood looking ahead, while Chris had her back against the glass panels and the railing, body turned toward the party.

‘Shame’, Linda echoed.

Linda felt the silence growing uncomfortable and weighing them down. She wouldn’t let that happen. She’s had the best hours in months and simply wouldn’t have them ruined by both of them drowning in disappointment and what-if scenarios. Maybe Chris could and would use those as inspiration afterwards. Not now though. Not yet. They enjoyed each other’s company, so they might as well use the remaining time they had.

‘Are you planning on staying local then. Professionally speaking’, Linda made a weak attempt at saving the mood.

Chris turned her head toward her, narrowing her eyes as if trying to figure out if there was some sort of hidden question in Linda’s words. She didn’t find any. Chris looked at Linda a little longer before smiling sadly.

‘Rather weak attempt at saving the conversation’

Linda fell silent, turned away a little and Chris sighed.

‘Thank you, though’, Chris added.

Linda’s head shot around to meet Chris’ eyes. What was Chris thanking her for? And why on earth had she lost her ability to speak? Maybe a lack of champagne and the overdose of orange juice had to do with it. Linda made a mental note to add ‘The Impact of Orange Juice on the Ability to Understand People’ to her list of research questions. Obviously, she wouldn’t add it. However, she was genuinely confused, and Chris must have found evidence for that on her usually guarded face.

‘Thank you for photo bombing’, Chris clarified smiling, ‘Made my day too’

She could see Chris’ face light up ever so slightly at the mention of their first interaction and couldn’t help but reach out for Chris’ hand. Chris must have the noticed the motion since her eyes lowered to Linda’s hand moving towards her own on the railing. Linda watched carefully as Chris’ eyes find hers again and she felt Chris’ fingers entwining with her own. Chris squeezed her hand reassuringly, never breaking eye contact once.

‘I hope it’ll make your portfolio’, Linda joked lightly.

‘I’m sure it will’, Chris joined in, ‘Seagulls and champagne’

‘Is that your highlight? The bird and the flute? Lovely’

‘No filter, remember?’

No, Chris really had no filter. She spoke her thoughts, but Linda had noticed her open face before. A face that seemed unable to hide anything. The embarrassment as Chris had blurted out her aversion to alcohol. The way her eyes had gone wide in shock as Linda had crashed her photo. The way they had softened as she had looked at the photo. They way they flickered down to Linda’s lips right now.

Linda had her own eyes fixed on Chris’ as she said, ‘And thank god for that’

Slowly, Linda moved closer to Chris, not letting go of her hand but giving her every chance to step back. She didn’t. Instead, Chris looked down at their hands before finding Linda’s eyes again. Chris’ eyes were only a fraction wider, yet Linda could read the question in them. The same question her darting eyes had asked moments before already.

‘Linda–’

‘You could just kiss me now’

Chris smiled at that, her free hand reaching out towards Linda’s face. Linda didn’t shy away as cold fingers stroked along the side of her face, then cupping her cheek.

‘And here I thought I was the blunt one’, Chris chuckled.

‘Touché’

With that Linda closed the remaining gap between them and their lips met. Linda’s free hand found Chris’ waist, while Chris’ hand was no longer on Linda’s cheek but tangled in her hair. Slowly, their entwined hands on the railing let go of each other and moved to pull them closer together. And even as their kiss broke, they didn’t move away from each other. They still stood in front of the railing, foreheads touching. Linda could feel Chris’ hand in her hair, softly pulling at some strands at the nape of her neck. Meanwhile, Linda’s hand remained on Chris’ waist, her thump drawing circles there.

‘Shame nobody took a photo of that’, Chris whispered.

Linda smiled, ‘I’m sure one of your seagulls saw it’

Just like that Linda noticed a flicker of movement behind Chris. She pulled away a little to look over Chris’ shoulder. And right there, on the part of the railing behind them a seagull had settled, watching them.

‘Your friend is back’, Linda tilted her head towards the bird, ‘Look’

Carefully, as to not shy away the seagull, Chris turned around in Linda’s arms. For a moment they stood there watching the seagull as it ruffled it’s feathers and picked at some of them. Linda fully expected Chris to reach over to the table and pick up her camera, but she didn’t. Instead, Chris leaned back against Linda, her hair tickling her cheek. Almost instinctively, Linda put her arms around Chris’ waist and pulled her closer. Chris relaxed further into their embrace and put her own hands on top of Linda’s. Apparently, Chris wasn’t going anywhere.

‘What about the magic bird?’, Linda asked.

‘Let it have its peace for tonight. It’s late’

They stayed like this until the seagull flew off into the now dark sky. The sun had vanished completely, and the warm sunset colours had made place for the clear, dark night sky full of stars. And amidst the sky, now slightly more in the west, was the crescent moon shining down on them.

Then Linda got them another set of drinks, while Chris checked her camera and changed the batteries and the time. It was close to midnight already. However, neither wanted to leave yet. So, they went around the rooftop a few more times, simply talking and Chris taking the occasional photo, before they found a quiet corner of the rooftop. It was a simple table with stools to sit. They put their glasses on the table, linked their hands on top of it and continued their conversation. They hardly noticed people leaving the event, the music growing more sombre. Or was it supposed to be romantic. Linda couldn’t tell the difference, but that had probably more to do with the lack of talent on the stage than Linda’s lack of music knowledge. Chris could only agree with her and if she was honest, she was glad when she saw the musician putting their instruments away. It took Linda a little bit until she realised that they were packing up. She looked at her watch. Almost 5am. Huh. She looked around the rooftop and found it close to empty. Only a handful of people were now left. Two people were talking around one table, another group of four were at the other side, close to where the buffet had been. Linda watched as one of the group, a woman her own age, maybe a bit younger, stepped away from the table and made her way towards them. Chris seemed to have noticed the woman to, since she sat up straight, while staying close to Linda.

‘Hello’, the woman said, ‘So, sorry to disturb’

‘No worries’, Linda hear herself say.

The woman smiled, ‘Chris, would you mind taking one last team photo, before we close up? You’re done after’

Chris hesitated for a moment, ‘No, just give me a moment. I’ll be right there’

‘Sure, thank you’

Linda watched the woman walk over to the band and shake hands with some of them, even gave one a hug. That must explain why there were playing then. Good friends. Maybe more. Like her and Chris could have been. Chris. Linda slightly turned on her seat to face Chris properly. She had hold of her camera already, ready to finish the job.

‘I’ll only be a second’

Linda fully expected Chris to walk over to the group, who must be the organisers, but she stayed. She stayed right where she was, looking at Linda, almost pleading with her to say or do somet–

Oh.

Oh.

The team photo. Then they were closing up. Only now did Linda realise what the woman had actually said. The event was almost over. So, was her time with Chris. In a few hours, possibly less she’d be on her way home. Chris was trying to get her to say goodbye. Or just say goodbye herself. Or more likely, she was giving her the chance to slip away quietly. No grand gestures needed.

‘I’m sure you will’, Linda reached out for Chris’ hand again.

‘I had the best of times tonight’

Chris took her hand and squeezed it, ‘Me too. I’d even call it. . . inspirational’

They both laughed.

‘Chris?’, the woman called out, ‘We’re ready’

‘On my way’

Chris gave Linda another smile, which Linda returned. Then they both got up from their chairs, Chris letting go of their hands to get a better hold of her camera. They looked at each other again, before Chris gave a quick nod and walked away. Linda watched her go, waited a little bit longer until she could see Chris talking to the team. She was waving her hand around a little, clearly trying to get the people into a position she must have already had in her head. Chris raised the camera to her eye level and Linda turned around towards the lift.

+++

Across the rooftop Chris had finally managed to get Yussuf’s colleagues to stop giggling and fooling around. She did take some photos of that as well, for her own personal collection. However, Yussuf needed the team photo for the website or an article, so she needed it to look professional. No point in people seeing that three out of the four organisers were more than just a little tipsy. Chris was sure they would have a loud, banging headache whenever they would wake up from their sobering sleep. At least she had got them to cooperate for about a minute. She quickly took the photo and checked it on her camera. Not blurry, nobody making faces or drooling. Fantastic. That was it. Job done. She could go home. She could. She didn’t quite want to. She wasn’t tired yet and from looking at the horizon she could tell that sunrise was well on its way.

So, was Linda. At least Chris hoped she was on her way. That she had understood the opt out to spare them both a protracted goodbye. Or one of them holding on for too long, making it awkward, ruining the illusion of their perfect time together on the rooftop. Chris turned her head around to find Linda go towards the lift. She’d gotten the hint then.

‘Chris?’, she heard Tay behind her.

‘Hm?’, Chris gave Tay her full attention and found her looking expectantly at the camera.

‘Oh, right, sorry’

Chris stole a last glance at the closing lift doors before she handed her camera over to Tay, hoping she’d be happy with the pictures she’d taken.

+++

After flagging down a cab and the following ten-minute car ride, Linda had finally made it to the platform. Surprisingly enough, the station had two of them, the second only to be reached via a bridge crossing over the rails. Not exactly step free, Linda noted. Looking to her right she could see the first orange and yellow colours on the sky. The sun was about to rise.

She had another five minutes until the train would arrive and take her back home. Back to her job and her friends, her new life after the divorce. It had been months, yes. However, tonight had been the first time she had truly enjoyed herself again in a long time. She didn’t have to think about any appointments with her solicitor or worry who would get the cat – it had been her, of course. It was the real new beginning after the exhausting time that the last months had been. And Chris would forever be a part of that. Maybe they would see each other again. Maybe Linda would run into her when she was in town visiting Mariana. Or, they would forever be a one-night story, in the most ridiculous sense. No matter what would happen, Linda was glad she had met Chris at the very beginning of a new chapter of her life.

+++

A few miles away, Chris was walking down a cobblestone road, towards the promenade and the beach. It was still early, the sun about to rise. She was alone again, no other people around. But for the first time in years, she didn’t feel lonely. She felt more at peace. And even though she didn’t yet have a clear vision of where she wanted her life to go, she had a new appreciation for the people already in her life.

Chris had reached the end of the cobblestone road and went into the promenade road. She quickly crossed the street and made her way over to where some stone steps led her on top of a dune. She took off her shoes and picked them up. The sand was still cold under her feet, making the tiny grains dig into her soles. She took a deep breath and walked down the dune on the other side, careful not to slip on her way down. After walking down the coastline a little bit, she suddenly stopped. Just stood there, feet in the sand, camera at her side, looking out at the sea. With a soft thud her shoes fell to the ground, shaping the sand beneath them. Chris sat down next to them and carefully put camera on top of her shoes, so the sand wouldn’t damage it.

She put her arms around her legs and sat there with her eyes closed for a moment. Suddenly, she felt just a bit warmer. She opened her eyes to find the sun slowly making its way up from below the sea, bathing the beach in a soft, yet bright gold. It didn’t have much from the comforting, almost soothing orange and rosy colours the sky held last night, it didn’t make it any less beautiful.