The next morning, Hart suddenly speaks to me first.

"You're a photographer, right?"

I nod in surprise and wait eagerly for him to continue.

"It's my sister's birthday this weekend. And she wanted some kind of photoshoot. I thought if you're free... I'll pay."

"Okay," I agree without hesitation. For some reason, I am pleased that he asked me about something.

I'm always like that. If there is no secret, I will invent it. I can't go numb completely. So I throw a thin veil over something, and then I try to unravel the mystery. And maybe there is nothing under the cover... But knowing this is not very interesting.

I wake up early on Saturday and start rummaging through my unpacked boxes. I haven't worked as a photographer at a party for a long time. I take my things and put everything in the case. I dress as usual, but I feel different.

Hart sleeps until eleven. On Friday he came home late, I heard him through a dream. Probably he went on a spree.

I noticed that Hart is tight with alcohol. It's not that it bothers me, it just seems strange.

I think that maybe I should also bring something for the occasion, but I'm a photographer, not a guest... I go digging in the boxes again. When will I unpack them?..

After photoshoots, I often have samples of clothes or other things. I wonder what I hope to find here for... how old is Hart's sister, by the way? He didn't tell me.

I leave the room. Hart looks sleepy and rumpled. The lip is broken, and there is a bruise on the left cheekbone. Apparently, the evening was not very pleasant. But I hold back and say nothing.

Hart drinks coffee, staring at the wall in front of him. Perhaps he is still asleep. I'm breaking his privacy.

"You didn't tell me how old was your sister."

"Huh?" Hart turns to me, his gaze gradually clearing up. "Ten. She turns ten."

"And I just need to take pictures or..."

"She wanted to play models or something. You know, with a runway... lamps..."

"Maybe it was easier to bring her to my studio? I can't install everything at your place..."

"I don't know," Hart shrugs. "Maybe..."

He stands up and straightens his shoulders.

"Are you ready?"

"Well, yes," I lift my bag.

"Let's go then."

"Are you going like that?"

At first, I did not understand how my phrase sounded. Hart's eyes turned unkind. But I decide not to back down.

"Do you have another t-shirt? I've seen you wearing this t-shirt all week... Maybe..."

I pause.

"Wait here," I say and hide behind the door to my room. In a torn-up box, I find something for both him and his sister.

"Here," I hand him the polo packed in a plastic bag. By the look on his face, I can conclude Hart doesn't like this idea. "This is... I often get samples of things... It's new. And not my size. Just..."

Hart scowls, I step back and silently stuff the polo into my bag with the rest of my stuff.

We leave the apartment.

We go to Hart's house on his motorcycle. The house is in a suburb. It's quite small, and when I go inside, it is not richly furnished. But the first thing that catches my eye is that no one is happy to see Hart. Well, except for the girl with big bows running towards him with hugs.

"Andy! You came!" she hangs around his neck. For the first time in my life, I see a smile on Hart's face. It's restrained but still a smile.

Oh shit...

I take out my camera and hastily take a couple of pictures.

A woman comes up to us. She is thin and tall. Her arms are entwined with ropes of veins swollen from hard work. She looks at Hart angrily, as if he is the biggest disappointment in her life. And only the joy of the birthday girl stops her from throwing Hart out the door with a couple of curses at his back.

When she stops in front of Hart, I can see how similar they are. There is no doubt that this is his mother. I take a couple of shots again and immediately put the camera away because the woman turns to me.

"I am a photographer," I try to speak politely and affably, but it is unlikely that something can soften her. Apparently, this runs in their family... "Gray Sommer. Hart asked me to come, and I..."

"All the girls are in the yard," she interrupts me, poorly hiding her irritation, and leaves. Hart doesn't look at me but walks into the yard. And I'm going after him.

Girls in colorful dresses are running around in a small yard. They jump on a trampoline, squeal, and blow bubbles. This contrast seems to me so striking that I do not immediately know what to do.

The house behind me seems to be a stronghold of cold, but here summer reigns, and little fairies, like butterflies, circle over the green grass.

I am not very experienced at working with children, but I want to try. I arrange a small scene, invite the girls to imagine themselves as super models, and tirelessly click the camera, capturing smiles, grimaces, and funny faces.

Hart's sister, Natalie, looks like a little princess, but her eyes are the same as Hart's. She looks into the camera with a grown-up seriousness, but after a second she smiles as if she is the most carefree girl in the world.

Hart hands her a present. Through the lens, I watch her tear open the not very neat packaging, and... she disappointedly turns to her brother, who at this moment seems lost.

"It's not her, Andy," Natalie is clearly upset.

"Why? I..." utters Hart.

"No," Natalie purses her lips, not like a capricious girl, but like a child whose dream almost came true, but at the last moment the butterfly turned out to be a dry autumn leaf. "I told you - Fairy Emerald, and her hair is green. You said you remembered..."

It does ring a bell... I glance at my bag and take out what I chose for Natalie's gift. This is a green-haired doll. I remember taking pictures for advertising and thinking that hair color was awesome... but it was a pain when I edited it. I chuckle at the thought.

"I'm sorry," Hart says. He looks genuinely sad.

"Hart," I come closer. "You completely forgot about another present! It stayed in the bag. Have you forgotten?"

Hart frowns and looks at me clueless. I hand him the box, Natalie notices the green-haired doll, and I take a dozen pictures of the happy little girl in Hart's arms.

"Why 'Andy'?.." I ask, packing my things back into my bag when the guests finally leave. Hart grins wryly.

"This is the middle name, she likes it. But only she can call me that," he says quite seriously.

Okay, fair warning.

My middle name is Benjamin. But I really like Gray more.

We are returning home, it's getting dark quickly. I still need to review the pictures I have taken and edit them...

"Thanks," Hart says as I'm about to close the door to my room. "How much do I owe you? And for the doll too."

"I told you, I have ad samples. So... You don't owe me anything. Consider it a gift. And the pictures too."

Hart doesn't like it again. It seems like I can never please him with anything. But I leave him to frown alone and close the door.