Dinner is over and we are sitting at the table with the rest of his friends from the photography industry. The real power people. This is an awards night and Alastar is up for an award for one of his pictures. Everyone looks amazing in their black ties and beautiful dresses. I have to admit; this is the most fun I have ever had at a snazzy event. We are all drinking expensive champagne and Twinkle is introducing me to everyone as his girlfriend. If this is what it feels like to be his girlfriend, sign me up. I am totally addicted. I have a really nice girl seated next to me and we are getting on famously. She is the girlfriend of a fellow photographer and is a similar age to me. Alastar’s arm is slung over the back of my chair as he talks to the man next to him, but every now and then I feel his fingertips run over my shoulder blade as if he has to touch me. It’s a comforting feeling, one I never want to end.
The awards are on the stage, which is lit by several spotlights, and everyone is clapping and cheering. Some of the victory speeches have been hilarious. Artistic people are freaking weird sometimes.
The room is full with laughter. Finally, they get to the category that Alastar has been nominated in.
“The most thought provoking image,” the handsome man in a black suit reads. “The nominees are: Bishelle McGuire. Star. Mario Grenalda.”
Everyone claps and I kiss my Twinkle on the cheek in congratulations. His smile is beaming.
The handsome man opens the sealed envelope and the room holds their collective breath.
“The winner of the most thought provoking image is…” He hesitates for effect. “Star!”
The room erupts into cheers and clapping. Seemingly embarrassed, he kisses me gently on the cheek and stands and takes his place in the centre of the stage.
His winning photograph is shown on the large screen behind the stage with the quote underneath it:
Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow. ~ Aesop
It’s a tree. The tree itself looks beautiful, green and healthy.
However, the shadow it cast looks evil, scary, even.
I sit back and stare at it. Wow! That is thought provoking. Depending on what kind of person you were would definitely determine how you saw this image. A positive person would only see the beautiful tree and all of its glorious shades of green. A pessimist would probably see the black shadow, the twisted tortured limbs. I smile broadly as I clap. I get it, I get what he means by this photo and it really does mean a lot to me that I do.
He waves and everyone claps as he takes his place behind the microphone.
“Thank you.” He holds the Oscar looking gold statue in front of him. “This award means a lot to me.” He hesitates as he turns and looks at the image behind him then turns back to the audience. “The quote came to me from a very old source in a book.
Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow, by Aesop.
It resonated with me.” He pauses. “Up until very recently I had done just that. I had lost the substance because I had grasped the shadow. I was always overthinking the end.”
I frown, what’s he talking about? The end? Is that… death? Is he talking about depression?
I’m confused.
He smiles broadly. “Recently I have found my substance.”
The crowd continues to clap and I smile back at him.
“She’s wears a white dress.” He smiles down at me sitting at the table and I stop breathing. Holy shit, he’s talking about me. What the hell?
The applause gets louder and I feel myself turning red as I smile unable to stop my eyes from tearing up.
He holds his gold statue up in the air. “Thank you, Emmaline. You are the substance and it is your light that has completely eclipsed the shadow.”
Chapter 15
I clap and drop my head to hide my emotion. The crowd continue to applaud Alastar as he makes his way back to the table. I have no idea what he really means by what he said, but damn, it sounded so good. I’m the light that has blocked the shadow.
A fleeting sinking feeling fills me. What is his shadow?
The reminder that he wants to spend his last week with me swirls through my head.
Is he dying?
Does he have depression?
Is he suffering from a mental illness?
How can I help him?
He falls into the seat next to me and I smile over at him. He knows I’m getting emotional, choosing to kiss me gently. Taking my hand in his, he holds it on his thigh and rubs his thumb over the back of it tenderly, as if trying to calm my nerves.
The next award is read out, but my mind is elsewhere as I stare blankly at the stage.
What did his speech just reveal? What was all that code for? He does feel what is between us. I’m not in this alone, I know I’m not.
He’s going away for a reason. He’s pushing me away for a reason.
But what is it?