Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > It's Not a Symptom, It's a Side Effect
The Film Did Not Go 'Round
5 reviews"The goddamn things I do for a picture," he said, louder this time. As if he was talking to someone.
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"Damn," he mumbled, tripping over a tree root or something. It was hard to tell in the near-darkness. "The goddamn things I do for a picture," he said, louder this time. As if he was talking to someone.
The small woods were eerily quiet in the pre-dawn hours; you could walk in and find a doe and fawn walking peacefully, confidently. And Brendon was there to capture those moments.
He clicked the button, trying to gage how much film he had left. He worked more with his 'old style' film camera, rather than the shiny new digital he'd received as a birthday present. It was annoying, yes, to have to reload and reload, but there was a certain quality that the film camera had that digital couldn't give.
Brendon stepped closer, trying to get a better view, but the pair of deer leaped away before he could focus properly. He sighed, giving up for the morning and heading towards his regular route home through some kid's backyard. He sighed, hoping no one was up yet - his mother did not appreciate his going off in the mornings and disappearing.
A boy was laying in the grass near the house; he must've been Brendon's age, maybe a little younger. He was skinny as a stick, and his floppy hair was all in his eyes. He sat up, rubbed his eyes sleepily. His face was tearstained, and he looked like he hadn't slept at all. Not that Brendon imagined he could've slept well outside. Any other time, Brendon would've passed him up; let neighbors be weird and don't pry, and they won't pry into your life either. But it was the look on the boy's face that stopped him.
It was such a profound mixture of grief, anger, hate, sorrow... Brendon couldn't put words to the emotion. The boy's face was hardened, like he'd been to hell and back, but it showed signs of sadness, a deep sadness that made even Brendon as a watcher want to look away.
Instead, he raised the camera to his eyes. It was a moment begging to be captured, the kind of beauty so strange and sad that you couldn't stop looking. Besides, when did someone win the Pulitzer with a smile?
The boy looked straight at him, just has he was pushing the button. The shutter clicked, but the picture didn't take. The two just stayed staring at each other for a moment. Then, in a rush, it hit Brendon that he shouldn't have been there, not then, and that taking that picture was overstepping things.
And he ran.
The small woods were eerily quiet in the pre-dawn hours; you could walk in and find a doe and fawn walking peacefully, confidently. And Brendon was there to capture those moments.
He clicked the button, trying to gage how much film he had left. He worked more with his 'old style' film camera, rather than the shiny new digital he'd received as a birthday present. It was annoying, yes, to have to reload and reload, but there was a certain quality that the film camera had that digital couldn't give.
Brendon stepped closer, trying to get a better view, but the pair of deer leaped away before he could focus properly. He sighed, giving up for the morning and heading towards his regular route home through some kid's backyard. He sighed, hoping no one was up yet - his mother did not appreciate his going off in the mornings and disappearing.
A boy was laying in the grass near the house; he must've been Brendon's age, maybe a little younger. He was skinny as a stick, and his floppy hair was all in his eyes. He sat up, rubbed his eyes sleepily. His face was tearstained, and he looked like he hadn't slept at all. Not that Brendon imagined he could've slept well outside. Any other time, Brendon would've passed him up; let neighbors be weird and don't pry, and they won't pry into your life either. But it was the look on the boy's face that stopped him.
It was such a profound mixture of grief, anger, hate, sorrow... Brendon couldn't put words to the emotion. The boy's face was hardened, like he'd been to hell and back, but it showed signs of sadness, a deep sadness that made even Brendon as a watcher want to look away.
Instead, he raised the camera to his eyes. It was a moment begging to be captured, the kind of beauty so strange and sad that you couldn't stop looking. Besides, when did someone win the Pulitzer with a smile?
The boy looked straight at him, just has he was pushing the button. The shutter clicked, but the picture didn't take. The two just stayed staring at each other for a moment. Then, in a rush, it hit Brendon that he shouldn't have been there, not then, and that taking that picture was overstepping things.
And he ran.
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