Day 46 – Hour 013Light in Motion – Part II
The light shifted in the late afternoon — not just in hue, but in rhythm. The streets slowed down. Vendors packed away their carts with less urgency. Fewer kids ran between alleyways. Everything fell into a quiet taper, like the world holding its breath before sunset.
We were walking back the way we came, toward the shop. My camera hung heavier than when we started, the weight not from mass, but from memory. Vex moved with the same cheerful gait as before, trailing his fingers along the chipped stone walls and offering quick nods to anyone who made eye contact.
"You did good today," he said, not looking at me. "I wasn't sure if you were one of those 'follow-the-line' types, but you surprised me."
I didn't reply.
I was still thinking about his earlier comment — about the employers and their ability to trace analog sources. It had unsettled me, but Vex made it sound like discussing the weather. Maybe it meant something. Maybe it meant nothing. Either way, it was filed into the part of my mind that held all the quiet suspicions.
We rounded the last bend, the crooked gutter that always leaked when it rained, and approached Marco's shop. The metal grate was lifted halfway. The familiar yellowed curtain swayed in the doorway like a breath waiting to be held.
Vex was still talking. "You've got instincts, Nemi. Not polished ones, but instincts all the same. You watch like someone who expects to find something, and that's rare. Most people take pictures hoping to prove they saw something important. You look first, then decide if it's worth the shot."
I stopped.
Because I could see through the curtain.
Marco was inside.
He was standing exactly where Vex had stood the morning before. Same posture. Same silence. But nothing else was the same.
Marco didn't look surprised.
He looked like he had been waiting.
Vex stepped forward without hesitation. "Ah! You're back," he said brightly. "I was starting to think you ran off to open a rival shop and left me in charge."
Marco didn't respond.
He just stared.
And for a moment, the air in the shop felt several degrees colder.
Vex turned to me, raised his eyebrows in mock alarm, and said, "Looks like I'm in trouble."
He chuckled, walked past the threshold, and pulled out one of the old stools like nothing was wrong. "I took Nemi out for some hands-on work. Thought it might be time he learned motion the fun way. You know, light, energy, chaos — the usual."
Marco still didn't speak.
But his gaze shifted from Vex to me.
That was worse.
I stepped inside slowly.
The floor creaked under my boots in a way it hadn't in days. The same corners, same tools, same drawers — but everything felt off-center. I realized then: I hadn't confirmed anything this morning. No plan. No schedule. No approval.
I had just… followed Vex.
Because he was easy to follow.
Because I trusted him.
That's what worried me.
"I didn't—" I started.
Marco raised a hand, and I stopped.
Not a threat. Just a pause.
He walked over to the worktable and picked up a single photograph — one of mine. A still frame from our walk. A motion blur of a woman mid-step, her silhouette caught between shutters. He held it up to the light, studied it, and then set it back down.
Still no words.
Vex scratched his chin, trying to hide a smile.
"He's good, isn't he?" he said, speaking for me. "I wouldn't have taken him if I thought he'd stumble. He's got the eye, Marco. And the control."
Marco finally spoke. Two words. Quiet. Measured.
"Not the habit."
The silence that followed was thicker than any lecture.
And I felt it.
He was right.
I had gone the entire day without questioning a single step. No cross-checking. No verifying. I hadn't even thought about who might be watching or what else was in play.
That wasn't like me.
At least… it didn't used to be.
Vex broke the silence again, softer this time. "Give him credit. He's adjusting. Not everyone survives their first month."
Marco said nothing.
But he didn't send me away.
That, in itself, was permission.
I stepped aside and began unpacking my rolls. My mind still churned with the realization that I'd grown too comfortable. That something had shifted in me — subtle but dangerous.
I didn't blame Vex.
He was charismatic, sure. Easy to follow. But that didn't excuse me. I was the one who should've asked questions. Confirmed the plan. Trusted less.
Instead, I had wandered through the slums like a kid with a new toy.
I'd forgotten what this world was.
And who I was supposed to be in it.
Marco returned to the back of the shop.
I heard the drawer slide open.
Then close.
Then silence.
Vex leaned toward me, whispering like a conspirator. "He's not mad. That's just his 'I-don't-like-being-outmaneuvered' face."
I didn't laugh.
Vex sighed. "Tough crowd."
Later, as I swept the floor and restocked the film drawer, Marco passed by and placed a strip of new negatives beside my elbow. He didn't look at me when he spoke.
"Develop these tomorrow. Then we'll talk."
Then he walked away.
That was all.
But it was enough.
Marco hadn't cut me off.
He hadn't reassigned me.
He was still testing me — even now.
And I knew I'd failed this one in a small but important way.
Next time, I'd be sharper.
More careful.
But a part of me also wondered how Vex had gotten away with it so easily.
Maybe Marco let it happen.
Or maybe Vex knew more than he let on.
Either way, I was learning.
Just not always in the ways I expected.