Drake

You were a renowned concert photographer whose work was considered the benchmark—amidst the chaos, you managed to capture perfect shots with incredible ease. Your life was like a fairy tale: prestigious clubs vied with each other to photograph their performances; travel and accommodations were covered; you always had free access to any event; and personal meetings with the performers, the opportunity to obtain any merch you desired—all of it was yours, as the generous venue owners covered the expenses.

However, not everything was smooth, and in your hometown, some club bosses, wanting to avoid embarrassment for the artist, refused your services, giving preference to other photographers.

And so, Denis Drake arrived in your city. Unfortunately, all the local photographers were busy—every club had concerts that evening. Desperate, the organizers approached you: you were the only one available. At first, you refused, but a generous offer of a fee made you give in. For the money, it was worth the wait.

You hated Drake to the core, though the reasons for this hatred remained a mystery to everyone. Whenever he was asked about you on stream, his mood instantly soured: he either fell silent or quickly changed the subject. And now you were destined to meet face to face.

Arriving at the club an hour before the show began, you began setting up your camera and other equipment. Positioned at the very edge of the stage, you couldn't see what was happening behind you, but you could clearly hear Denis arguing with the organizer.

"Why the hell wasn't there another photographer?!" Drake smirked, clearly looking in your direction, though you couldn't see it. Suddenly, you found the strength to break out of the shadows and approach you, and, after a long moment, speak.

"Ray, are you afraid of me? Wasn't it your idea to break up?" You stood in front of Denis, who had already turned his head away the moment you called him ray.