Home Is Him

Ethan’s POV

The studio was quiet except for the soft clicking of the camera.

I lowered it slowly and looked at the photo again. The lighting was good. The angle was good. Everything was exactly the way it should be, but something still felt missing. It always felt like that. No matter how many pictures I took, I never felt completely satisfied.

I sighed and dropped the camera gently on the table beside me.

The room smelled faintly of paint and old paper. Photographs were everywhere—on the wall, on the table, even on the floor. Some were portraits, some were street photos, and some were just random moments I had captured because they felt important at the time. To anyone else, the room would probably look messy. To me, it felt like the only place where I could breathe properly.

Photography was the only thing that made me feel calm.

Outside the window, the street was quiet. A few cars passed slowly, their headlights sliding across the walls like moving shadows. It was already late, but I didn’t feel tired. Nights were easier for me. Fewer people. Less noise. Less pressure to pretend to be someone I wasn’t.

I walked toward the wall and picked up one of my favorite photos. It was a picture of a man standing under a streetlight, his face half hidden in shadow. I didn’t even know who the man was. I had just seen him one night and taken the picture quickly before the moment disappeared.

Sometimes I wondered if my life was starting to feel exactly like that photo—half light, half shadow.

I smiled slightly at the thought and shook my head. Maybe I was thinking too much again.

A soft vibration suddenly broke the silence.

I turned around and looked at my phone lying on the table. I frowned a little when I saw an unknown number. People rarely called me. Most of the time, my phone stayed silent for days.

I hesitated for a moment before picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Ethan Vale?” a calm voice asked.

“Yes… this is Ethan.”

There was a short pause on the other side, and for some reason, I felt my heart beat a little faster.

“My name is Daniel. I work with Cruz Entertainment. We got your number from a photographer you worked with last year. Are you available for a private photoshoot tomorrow night?”

I froze.

For a second, I thought I had heard the name wrong.

“Cruz… Entertainment?” I repeated slowly.

“Yes. The shoot is for Adrian Cruz. It’s nothing too complicated. Just a quiet studio session. We need someone who works well in low light, and your name came up.”

I didn’t speak immediately. I just stood there, staring at the wall in front of me, trying to understand what was happening.

Adrian Cruz.

Even someone who lived quietly like me knew that name. Adrian was everywhere—on billboards, on music videos, on social media. Famous. Untouchable. The kind of person I only saw through a camera screen.

And now someone was asking me to photograph him.

“I… I’m available,” I said quickly, afraid the chance would disappear if I waited too long.

“Good,” the voice replied. “I’ll send you the address and the time. Tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

The call ended almost immediately after that.

I lowered the phone slowly, my fingers still wrapped tightly around it. The studio suddenly felt different, like the air had changed. Like something important had just stepped into my life without asking permission.

I looked around the room again—the photos on the wall, the camera on the table, the quiet space that had always felt safe.

Tomorrow night, I would be somewhere else. Somewhere brighter. Louder. More dangerous than I was used to.

I exhaled slowly and ran a hand through my hair.

“This is just a photoshoot,” I muttered to myself.

But deep inside, I knew it wasn’t just that.

Somewhere far away, someone like Adrian Cruz probably didn’t even know my name yet. To him, I was just another photographer. Just another stranger holding a camera.

Still, the thought made something strange and nervous grow in my chest.

I picked up my camera again and looked at it carefully, as if it suddenly meant more than it had a few minutes ago.

The studio was much bigger than I expected.

I stood at the entrance for a few seconds, holding my camera bag tightly as I looked around. The room was filled with soft white lights, large cameras, and people moving quickly from one place to another. It felt nothing like my small quiet studio. Everything here looked expensive, professional, and a little intimidating.

I took a slow breath and tried to calm myself.

“You must be Ethan.”

I turned quickly when I heard the voice. A man in a black shirt walked toward me with a friendly smile.

“I’m Daniel,” he said, offering his hand. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

I shook his hand carefully. “It’s fine. I mean… thank you for calling me.”

Daniel nodded and pointed toward the center of the room. “We’re almost ready. Adrian will be here in a minute. Just relax and set up your camera the way you like.”

I nodded again, but relaxing was the last thing I felt like doing.

I walked slowly toward the main lights and placed my camera bag on a table. My hands moved automatically as I started setting up my camera. Adjust the lens. Check the light. Check the angle. It was the only way I knew how to stop my heart from beating too fast.

Then suddenly, the room became quieter.

Not completely silent, but quieter in a way that made me look up without thinking.

Someone had entered.

I didn’t see his face immediately. I only noticed the way people turned slightly, the way the assistants stopped talking for a moment. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was just… noticeable.

Then the man stepped into the light.

Adrian Cruz looked exactly like the photos people saw online, but at the same time, he looked completely different. The lights reflected softly against his dark hair, and his expression was calm, almost distant. He didn’t look like someone who needed attention. He looked like someone who was tired of it.

I forgot to breathe for a second.

This was the person I was supposed to photograph.

Adrian walked slowly toward the center of the studio, speaking quietly to Daniel for a moment before turning his head slightly. His eyes moved across the room until they stopped on me.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

I quickly looked down at my camera, pretending to adjust something that didn’t need adjusting. My hands felt a little cold suddenly.

“That’s the photographer?” Adrian asked softly.

“Yes,” Daniel replied. “His name is Ethan. He’s very good with low light.”

There was a short pause.

Then I heard footsteps coming closer.

I looked up slowly.

Adrian was standing right in front of me now.

“You’re Ethan?” he asked.

His voice was calm, but there was something gentle in the way he spoke that I didn’t expect.

“Yes,” I replied quietly.

Another short silence passed between us.

Adrian looked at the camera in my hands, then back at my face again.

“You look more nervous than the person being photographed,” he said.

I blinked, surprised. Then, without meaning to, I smiled a little.

“Maybe I am,” I admitted.

For the first time, Adrian smiled too.

It wasn’t a big smile. Just a small one. But something about it made my chest feel strangely tight, like something important had just happened without warning.

“Good,” Adrian said softly. “That means you care about the photos.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just nodded and lifted the camera slowly.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

Adrian stepped back into the light and looked directly at the lens.

“I am,” he replied.

I looked through the camera, my finger resting lightly on the button.

For some reason, this didn’t feel like a normal photoshoot anymore.

It felt like the beginning of something I didn’t fully understand yet.

And when I finally pressed the button, the quiet sound of the camera clicking felt louder than it ever had before.