He Said I Was Unphotogenic Yet My Photos Shocked The Entire School Chapter 02

He Said I Was Unphotogenic Yet My Photos Shocked The Entire School Chapter 02

Jason’s expression shifted. He shot back, cold and flat, “Without me, you won’t have a single decent photo.”

I didn’t bother answering.

That afternoon, I showed up at the library west entrance on time.

Back when Jason shot, I was always his assistant. I carried his lenses, held the reflector, passed him water, watched his bag.

If Claire’s skirt wrinkled, I’d go over and smooth it out. After the shoot, he’d have me import the files. But when it was my turn? He couldn’t be bothered to adjust a single setting.

Today, for the first time, I wasn’t standing outside someone else’s frame.

The photographer didn’t rush. He just pointed to the steps. “Relax your shoulders. Ignore the camera. Pretend it’s not there. Look at the wind, the trees, whatever you want.”

I lifted my head stiffly.

He studied me for a second. “Emma, the lens isn’t Jason. It won’t yell at you.”

My eyes stung. I looked up and blinked hard.

He didn’t push. He just waited.

The first session lasted half an hour. He didn’t say much, but every instruction was clear.

“Don’t grip your skirt.”

“Look at that tree on the left.”

“Turn back now.”

“Yes, that look. Exactly.”

I didn’t know shooting could feel this effortless.

The next morning, Jason tagged me in the club group chat: [Come help me with the reflector this afternoon. Claire’s shooting her ambassador materials.]

Before, I’d have said yes immediately. But this time, I typed: [I have my own shoot this afternoon.]

The chat went quiet for a few seconds. Then Jason messaged me privately: [You’re actually taking that twenty-dollar guy seriously? Claire’s set is the club’s priority. Don’t mess this up.]

I stared at the word “priority.” Something in me almost laughed.

His priority was Claire’s portfolio. My own graduation photos, my application, my courage to even try, none of it counted.

That afternoon, I headed to the science building for video shots. Passing the field, I saw Jason shooting Claire.

She stood in the middle of the grass, the sunlight hitting her just right. He crouched low, adjusting angles over and over.

“Take your time. Turn when the wind comes.”

She hesitated.

“Can’t smile?” he added. “Just look at me.”

A click. “Great. One more.”

Claire laughed. “Am I being difficult?”

Jason’s voice was soft. “Not at all. You have great presence.”

I stood at the edge of the track, my fingers clenched at my sides. So he did know how to make someone relax in front of a lens. He just never bothered with me.

The photographer saw my face but didn’t ask. He just handed me the camera. “Today we’re shooting motion. Walk, look at the lens, say one thing about why you like this school.”

I dropped my gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then pretend you’re talking to me.”

I thought for a long time before I spoke into the lens. “Because people here are always moving forward. It makes me believe that even ordinary people, like me, can grow stronger, one step at a time, if they just don’t quit.”

He didn’t interrupt. When he played it back, I saw myself on the screen. Not as sweet as Claire, not as polished. But real.

That evening, people in the application group started sharing previews. The photographer chose a shot of me by the library side entrance.

Right after he posted it, someone replied: [Is that Emma Calloway? This shot tells such a story.]

My heart warmed.

Then Jason chimed in: [It’s just atmospheric, propped up by good lighting and composition. But ambassador selection isn’t a portrait contest. You need range, not just one decent frame.]

Claire added: [Video is way harder, though. Movement catches things photos can hide, angles, expressions, all of it. You have to be camera-ready from every side.]

Something sank in my chest, but this time I didn’t rush to defend myself. I just answered: [I’ll practice on my own.]

That night, the photographer sent a new plan: [Tomorrow, the alumni wall. Don’t be scared. Just be yourself.]