Chapter One

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Rain pelts against my face as I run feeling like I'm running for my life.

The salty air laced with the scent of the earth enters my lungs as I take ragged breaths through my nose. Wet sand makes its way between my toes as my feet pound against the shore.

The harsh wind sends my curly, wet, brown strands bellowing behind me as I push my legs to move faster. My heart pounds erratically in my chest with adrenaline. My drenched clothes are weighing me down, slowing my speed.

Lightning flashes through the sky, brightening the dark, low hanging clouds. A loud crack of thunder follows moments later, drowning out the sound of the waves crashing violently against the shore.

"Alec!" I scream at the boy ahead of me. "Wait for me!"

"That ain't how a race works, Lana!" He yells over his shoulder with a hearty laugh.

Rain obscures my vision and I misstep, tumbling to the wet sand. I push my palms out before me in the hopes of protecting my face.

I scream in agony as something sharp penetrates my right palm.

"Lana!" Alec screams with worry. "Are you okay?" He asks as I feel his hands on me.

"I don't know," my bottom lip trembles.

I sit up, wincing in pain. "My hand is bleeding," I say absentmindedly, inspecting the red liquid oozing from my hand.

Very gently, Alec brings my hand to him. "It's deep."

I don't respond, inspecting the wet sand, searching for the object that punctured my hand when all the hair on my body raises. A bolt of bright lightning hits the sand a good couple of feet away from us. We scramble to our feet in fright, our chests rising and falling rapidly.

We stare in awe at the smoke rising from the sand, and I lean forward in the hopes of getting a better look.

"C'mon," Alec wraps his blue tee around my hand as he leads me to the spot where the lightning struck.

We kneel in front of the sand glowing an orange, red color. I reach to touch it, feeling the heat radiating from it but he stops me. "It's hot, don't touch it."

"It's beautiful," I say, standing to my full height with a wince.

"It is," he whispers back with a small smile. "I won the race."

"That don't count," I huff.

"Yeah, it does," he snickers, wrapping his arms around me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, curling my left arm around his neck.

"Picking up my wife 'cause you're hobbling. I need to get you to mama. She'll know what to do about your hand."

"I'm not your wife. We're only ten!"

"We agreed. If I won, you'd marry me someday."

"Why'd you wanna marry me, anyhow?" I ask.

"So, I can do this for the rest of our lives," he stops walking with me in his arms, his radiant blue-green eyes flickering between my eyes and lips as the onslaught of rain comes down upon us harder.

I suck in a sharp breath as he leans in, pecking my lips.

A mass of butterflies erupts in my belly, my lips tingling against his puckered lips.

It feels like I'm floating.

Nope.

Falling.

It feels like I'm falling.

I crash to the ground, my eyes snapping open as I lie sprawled out over the off-white tiles in my dining room. The newspaper I was reading, is stuck to my forearm and I peel it from my skin, leaving an imprint of the inked words. The white lace curtain flutters in the dining room, my eyes adjusting to the light streaming in through the open window.

I was definitely falling.

The scar on my right hand emits a dull ache as I rub my head with a groan, removing strands of matted hair stuck to my forehead.

I run the back of my hand over my lips, rubbing away the wetness from my drool.

"What're you breaking now?" Nadia Iilah, my roommate and drop dead gorgeous best friend asks.

"I fell," I grumble, ignoring the hollowness in my chest from my crazy dream. "I didn't break anything."

"I can see that," she snorts, offering me her hand and I accept. "Are you okay?" She asks, trying her absolute best to conceal her amusement. I know what's coming.

"I am," I confirm, setting the chair right.

Nadia busts out laughing as she sinks into a chair by our dark wood dining table. She clutches at her stomach, tears welling in her doe brown eyes. The beauty of friendship. She always makes sure I'm okay first before busting out laughing after I've fallen.

At least, she asks first.

"I've...warned you...how many times...not to fall asleep...at the dining table," she says between her fits of laughter, her long, brown curls covering her face.

"I know," I laugh, half-heartedly. "I couldn't stop reading this damn review. I don't understand what he means about 'no life' present in any of my photography. There's nature, that's life. What more does he need?"

"Actual living, breathing, things. Like animals and people," she shrugs, drying the tears leaking from her almond shaped eyes.ย 

She bends, picking up the newspaper. "Donovan Smith is right about one thing though," she drops the newspaper on the table, walking into our open-floor plan kitchen.

"And that is?" I rub my right palm trying to soothe away the painful reminder of my dream.

"Your photography gets more ominous with each photograph," she fills her bowl with milk, adding Cheerios after. Like whom even does that? It should be illegal! The cereal goes first, not the milk. But I say nothing. It's one of the many quirks I grew to love.

"No, it doesn't. I just prefer my photographs to be in greyscales. It captures the perfect shot, highlighting my emotions in that moment," I explain, putting on some coffee.

"Your color shots are equally amazing, lovie."

"I know, but I don't understand his problem. My photography is hanging in one of the finest art galleries in New York because of a competition I won. He doesn't understand the struggles I faced for three years trying to win that damn spot."

"I know, but it's not like he hates it," she says between bites. "In his expert opinion, he believes they need more life and color to take your photography to the next level."

"Exactly," I sigh defeatedly, not interested in having this discussion again. "Can we talk about something else? Please, Nadia?" I ask, using her full name.

"Ugh, I hate it when you use my full name!" She exclaims, dropping her spoon in her bowl with a loud clink. "What the fuck happened to Nads or Naddie?" She snaps, her features twisting into a frustrated frown.

"I love your full name," I smile, nudging my elbow against her.

I might've been fully aware of the subject change that would ensue if I used her full name. This isn't an admission of guilt. More so an admission of, I knew what I was doing when I used her full name. It's the best way to change the subject and it never fails.

That was so wrong of me to do. I just desperately wanted to change the subject. I really do love her name though. I'm trying to get her to love it as much as I do.

"I know," she sighs, leaning against the brown and white kitchen counter. "But you know it reminds me of the people back in Jordan. They only ever used my name when I was in shit."

"Those people are your family," I wrap a comforting arm around her 5'3 frame.

"Some family," she scoffs. "I've never felt any real connection with my parents. My brothers are little shits that got away with murder, but I don't want to think about them. There's a reason I left everything behind and moved to the US."

"I know. They can sit and fucking spin then, buttercup," I sip my coffee as she chuckles. Perfect from Ed Sheeran blares out from our dining room interrupting our conversation.

Excitement fills my belly at the assigned ringtone.

"Loverboy is calling," Nadia rolls her eyes. "Go answer it!"

"Fine," I giggle like the schoolgirl I think I am, but in reality, I'm nearing thirty. Meh, age is merely a number.

"Good morning," I purr into the phone.

"Morning, babe," his smooth voice greets me. "Congratulations on that spectacular review."

"Did you read what the critic wrote?"

"I did," he chuckles. "You feel personally attacked, don't you?"

"You know me so well."

"I do, that's why I got something to cheer you up. It should be arriving any minute."

"It better be you with a bow wrapped around you that I get to unwrap."

"I'm right here!" Nadia exclaims and I laugh in response.

"Unfortunately, babe, it's not me. I have back-to-back meetings today, but I'll be picking you up at five thirty for dinner with my mom," I gulp as the doorbell chimes. "I hope you love it, Telana. I'll see you later."

"Love you," I say, opening the door with a surprised gasp, forgetting all about dinner with his mother.

"Delivery for Telana Ellis?" A man behind a large bouquet of red roses in a large vase asks.

"One moment," I close the door. "Nadia, I'm going to let him in."

"Wait," she calls, grabbing her blue hijab from the kitchen island, speedily wrapping it around her head.

I reopen the door, only to gasp once more as multiple people walk into our apartment with large bouquets of roses ranging in color.

"What did he do wrong this time?"

"Absolutely nothing," I stare in awe at all the roses.

"Miss Telana Ellis!"

"Rachel?" I laugh. "What are you doing here and why are you being so formal?"

"When a particularly important man like Justin orders something, you jump. No questions asked," she hands me a beautiful black dress with a white underskirt and a mesh overlay with an intricate design of black and white flowers embroidered on the flowy skirt.

"It's beautiful," I whisper.

"Thanks, I made it," Rachel beams, her green eyes sparkling. "Your boyfriend really has good taste."

"He does."

"Well, I've gotta run," Rachel pulls me into a tight embrace. "You better tell me everything tomorrow."

She closes the door behind her, leaving Nadia and I in a forest of roses. The sweet scent fills our apartment, wafting to my nose. I breathe it in deeply with what I'm sure is a lovesick expression plastered across my face.

"This one has a note."

"What does it say?"

"One rose for every second I thought of you," Nadia reads, scrunching her face. "Damn, he's clichรฉ, reminds me of a male MC in a book I signed last week for publication."

"You can't deny you're a hopeless romantic that loves clichรฉs."

"I know," she snorts, pushing a vase deeper into our living room. The bright pink roses pushed up against the sofa pop against the black, suede fabric. "It's already nine am. Shit, I need to get ready for work."

"Doesn't being your own boss have its perks?" I ask, following her to her grey and pink bedroom filled with art supplies sprawled messily across her desk and stuffed animals thrown haphazardly on her bed.

"It does," she smiles. "But I love my job more than anything. Before I forget, I have a date, tonight. So, I probably won't see you again til tomorrow after work. Tell me everything then?"

"Sure. Finally going on a date with that guy you met in high school?"

"Cameron and yes."

"Be safe," I call over my shoulder walking to my bedroom with the dress Justin had made for me.

I place the dress neatly on my teal bed covers and strip down naked once my bedroom door is closed. I walk to my en suite, unclasping my bra, allowing it to fall to the black tiles.

I hop in the shower and get ready for my day.

It isn't long before I slip on a pair of blue washed jeans, matching it with a white tank and a blue and white flannel shirt. I leave the buttons undone, tying the bottom together across my lower belly.

I grab my camera bag and my sunglasses before I head out the door. The first whisper of winter lingers in the air as I step outside, pulling my flannel closer to my body.

People walking on the sidewalk narrowly avoid me as they rush about their day. There's no cab in sight amongst the cars driving down the road. Fumes from their exhausts pollute the air, the rumble from their engines and honks drowns out the sound of the birds chirping in the trees.

Roughly ten minutes go by before I catch a cab to Central Park. I spend my entire day there snapping shots of anything and everything. Just me and my camera.

The alarm I set on my phone goes off as I direct my camera to a Rottweiler with its tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, goofily.

"Is he friendly?" I approach the woman throwing a ball between her hands.

"He is, unfortunately people are too afraid to pet him."

"Not me," I smile, petting his head, lowering down to him. "He's just misunderstood, aren't you, boy?" I smile, continuing to pet him. "What's his name?"

"Peanut."

"Do you mind if I take a picture of Peanut?"

"Not at all."

I take a few steps back, holding up my camera. He tilts his head to the side, his deep brown eyes following my every move. I snap the picture as my second alarm goes off and he lies down, his nose nuzzled in the grass.

A small purple flower rests against his snout as he gives the cutest darn puppy dog eyes. I adjust my color settings and snap another shot, loving the vibrancy of the purple against his black fur.

"Can I see them?"

"Of course," I show her the pictures of her dog.

"You're amazing," she gushes. "Can you email those to me? I'll pay for them," she hands me a card.

"No need," I smile. "Thanks again for allowing me to photograph him," I pet him once more before walking away.

I hop in the first cab that stops. I don't focus on the road as I go through all the pictures I've taken today.

No joy fills me as I scroll through all the greyscale pictures I've taken of the ripples in the water or the sun peeking through the leaves. Nothing elicits any kind of emotion except a few.

I smile as I stare at the color shots, I've taken of such a vicious looking animal with so much love in his adorable eyes. I smile as I feel the love flow from the image to me.

Perhaps Donovan, the critic, was right.

My photographs have been missing something. I, of course, never wanted to admit it.

Not to myself.

Not to anyone.

But looking at the vibrant colors captured in one moment, I can't keep denying it. Color photography is just as amazing as greyscale photography.

The cab comes to a halt pulling me from my thoughts as the rugged driver looks at me impatiently.

"Keep the change," I say, handling him a twenty-dollar bill and he grunts a thanks. At least, that's what I'm guessing he said.

I rush up to my apartment and jump in the shower. I left myself enough time to take care of my hygiene, hair, and makeup.

You know?

Shit, shave, and shampoo. Without the shaving. I've got me a waxing lady.

In no time โ€“ what a load of bull โ€“ I'm dressed and ready. I slip on a pair of black and white Louboutin heels to match my dress.

My phone dings, alerting me of a text as I spritz on some of my favorite perfume.

Justin, my love: I'm waiting. XOXO

Me: On my way, xx

I give myself a final once over before I'm out the door.

With a nervousness in the pit of my stomach. I take a deep, calming breath before pushing open the building door.

Alfred, Justin's driver, opens the black towns car door with a warm smile. "Good evening, Miss Ellis."

"Evening," I smile. "How's Jessy doing?" I ask about his daughter that gave birth last week to twins.

"She's happy to be home with her babies but she's exhausted."

"Ah, I see. Must be tough being a new mom to twins," I say, absentmindedly placing my hand over my stomach.

"She is, but she has a village helping her."

"That's all that matters," I smile, getting in only to see the car empty.

"Alfred, where's Justin?"

"Sir's meeting is running late. He instructed me to fetch you and bring you to him."

"Thank you."

The car ride is silent after that as I watch the sky turn to night. We drive through the city, passing skyscraper after skyscraper. The familiar streets of New York City become less familiar as we enter the suburbs.

"Where are we going?" I ask. In response, he smiles at me in the rear-view mirror as he slows to a stop in front of a large iron gate. With a push of a button, it opens.

"Wow," I lower the tinted window as we drive along the lengthy driveway surrounded by trees and the fresh scent of nature.

Lights illuminate the property in the darkness of the night, and I stare in awe, trying to take in as much as I can with my limited vision.

Alfred pulls to a stop and my door opens. "I've got it from here, Alfred. Thank you." Justin's vibrant blue eyes and radiant smile greets me as I get out the car.

"What is all this?" I ask, looking up at the beautiful beige, brown, and white house.

"You'll see," he leans in for a kiss. "Follow me," he offers me his hand and I take it, gladly.

He pushes open the oak door with glass panels and I step inside. My heels clack against the pristine marble floors, echoing in the vast open space with stark white walls.

He leads me to another closed door before pushing it open. I can't see what's inside as he blocks my view with his muscled frame hidden below a black tailor-made suit. Every time I see him in a suit, any suit, my kitty meows like nuts, seeking his undivided attention.

Shit, I thought we'd at least make it further than this before this side of me came out. Better you find out now rather than later.

He leads me into the room, closing the door behind us and we're engulfed in darkness. A moment later, a small light illuminates us in a soft glow, setting the mood.

"Ever since I met you at Rachel's fashion show, I've been blown away by you. From that moment on, all I could think about is you. I began falling helplessly in love with you the more I got to know you. You've become the most important person in my life, and I can't imagine a second without you being a part of it."

"Oh, Justin," my free hand flies to my mouth, unshed tears welling in my eyes.

"Telana Ellis, will you marry me?"



A/N: So, chapter one for my new story, Capture the Moment, is done and dusted. Now, the most important part of this: Thoughts???

Your opinions and thoughts are honestly the best part of Wattpad. Being able to interact with you is my all time fav and to be honest, no story on this platform would be anything without you, the readers.

Can you see this story as something you'd invest your time in reading?ย 

For now, updates will be slow as I try to find my footing once again in writing and updating. It's been a while. I've been on hiatus and it's going to take me some time to adjust back into this role but updates should become regular eventually.

Anyhow, thoughts?

Thanks a mil for commenting, reading, and votingโค๏ธ

I appreciate it tons!

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