Chapter Twenty Two
Tasha
I caught a glimpse of Corky eyeing my long, lean legs as I strode across the field in my Wonder Woman costume and headed straight to the midst of the fight scene.
“Woot! Woot!” my friend Lia shouted teasingly. She’d also gone with us to London, having been hired to stand in for one of the female villains. I was really glad she’d come.
Many of my other stunt people friends were staying with us in the small apartment that we’d been provided with. The place wasn’t much, but it was decent enough. And the best thing was that it’s free! To top it off, I got to stay there with my closest friends in the industry.
I positioned myself to get dragged by a helicopter, not even bothered by the risk involved in the scene. This was already our third week in London, and I was getting used to the exciting stunt portions of Wonder Woman. She was really something else.
“You were awesome, Tash!” Corky exclaimed after I went through the scene smoothly. We gave each other a high five like kids, happily grinning from ear to ear. He was also having the time of his life being Superman and experiencing new stunts for the first time.
“Don’t wanna say ‘I told you so’ but…” Corky started.
I gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, laughing. “Go ahead!” I said jokingly.
“I told you so,” he said, laughing along with me. He was definitely fun to be with, but even with the amount of time we’d spent together in this new country, my fondness for him wasn’t growing into something more. I still just saw him as a good friend, more of like a brother.
We soon packed up and got dressed back into our normal clothes. “Where are we going to have dinner this time?” I asked my friends.
“Yeah, all our goods at home are now gone,” Lia pointed out. “We should just eat out and then go to the market tomorrow.”
“Okay, but it’s still early now for dinner,” Corky said.
“I got an idea!” Lia exclaimed. “We haven’t yet indulged in European culture, you know… and I heard there’s a nice art and history museum we can explore near our apartment.”
“Since when were you interested in culture and that kinda stuff?!” Corky asked in disbelief.
“I happen to be a very cultured woman,” Lia said exaggeratedly with a toss of her hair, which made us all laugh.
We were nevertheless curious and were eager to do something different, so five of us went to the museum—Corky, Lia, me, and two other guys who were locals of London. It was a huge surprise that they hadn’t even gone to that exact museum yet.
As we went from one area to another, I wandered off by myself, deeply fascinated by the display of historical relics that seemed to depict the kind of life the ancient people in that area had many, many years ago.
Soon we came upon a modern section that had exhibits of the first camera models in London, along with black and white dilapidated photos of old London.
“Interesting…” I whispered, suddenly picturing the look on Stryder’s face if he was to see this collection. I was certainly startled by that thought because I hadn’t been thinking of him anymore the past weeks I’d been in London. The change of scenery and our busy schedule had helped me a lot in moving on.
I wondered how he was. I’d gotten the news that the Warriors had won the championship. It must have been a momentous occasion for him and his dad. At least they didn’t have to fight about me anymore.
Lia and the others decided to visit the souvenir shop already while I was left to explore more on my own. It made perfect sense since I was the only one who was actually interested in art—an influence of my ex-boyfriend, of course.
All the anger in my heart had dissipated, leaving behind just the good memories of Stryder. It was more liberating that way, which I owed to myself. Hence, I had made the decision not to hold any grudges against him, not even negative thoughts of him.
A poster suddenly caught my attention as I was about to head over to the souvenir shop to follow my friends. The background on the poster was black, but there were splashes of colors in the center, like blotches of paint spelling out the word “Colors.” The text below the title gave out some details about the photo exhibit.
Curious, I went into the last room to check out the framed blow-up photos, each one emphasizing the theme “Colors.” I checked them out one by one, lingering thoughts of Stryder seeping into my mind again.
One particular photo caught my attention. It showed a cropped close-up of just a woman’s vivid blue-gray eyes against a blurry backdrop of the sky. The color of her eyes seemed to blend with the gathering clouds of rain.
My heart jumped in my throat as I went closer. It was like looking at a portion of my reflection. Of course I would recognize my own eyes anywhere, even if the rest of the face wasn’t there.
Was it really me? I asked silently, puzzled, as I studied the photograph. It had a sad tinge to it.
An assistant came to greet me then. Just in time.
“That photograph is quite intriguing, don’t you think?” the female assistant said, making conversation. “It’s one of my personal favorites.”
I nodded. “It sure is mysterious. And also sort of sad…”
“Yes, I agree,” she said with a nod, facing me. Our eyes met for just a few seconds, but that short period of time was enough for her to realize I had the same color of eyes as the one in the photograph before us. “Now I know why you’re so interested in this one! The resemblance is uncanny! I can’t believe it. The woman here could actually be you!”
I smiled uneasily, totally convinced it was really me. And there was only one person who could have taken that beautiful snapshot of me.
“Do you know who took this picture?” I asked, my heart pounding. “I couldn’t find any label.”
Had he sent this photo or was it possible he’s here in London? I could feel butterflies in my stomach as I imagined the second option as true.
“Oh, actually, the participating photographers were just here earlier,” the assistant said. “Such a shame you missed them. I clearly remember the one who was holding this photo because he was so damn cute!”
I felt myself becoming hopeful and ecstatic. She went on to describe him, which perfectly fit Stryder’s appearance. However, I needed to be sure so I waited for her to get the labels that she had yet to attach to the photographs in the exhibit.
She handed me one. With trembling fingers, I raised up the small piece of paper to my eyes. The title blew me away.
“My Long-Lost Love.”
I felt tears spring to my eyes. And when I saw his name printed below the title, that was it. The tears fell down my cheeks.
The female assistant looked at me in bewilderment. “Oh, my…” she whispered. “That’s really you in the photo, isn’t it?”
I didn’t know how to answer.
A look of excitement flashed in her eyes. “I can’t believe I just stumbled upon a real love story!” she said with thrill. “When was the last time you saw this photographer?”
“Maybe a month ago… but it’s quite impossible that he’s here in London…” I trailed off, not wanting to get my hopes up despite the evidence.
“Oh, it’s very possible,” the young woman said. “These photos were submitted by students of the London Academy of Photography. So this man of yours must be enrolled there, too.”
I took a deep breath, my thoughts dancing crazily in my head. Why did I even want to see him? He’s made it clear that I wasn’t that special to him and that he didn’t want to be with me anymore.
“You should come back tonight for cocktails,” the assistant urged. “We’re having the opening ceremonies at seven. All the artists will be here.”
“I don’t know…” I said hesitantly, my whole body turning numb.
“Come on!” she egged me on. “You know you want to see him. Besides, what were the chances that you two would meet again here in London? There must be a good reason for that… Destiny’s bringing you together again. Aren’t you curious what this means or where this will lead to next?”
I was utterly confused, but I found myself nodding in agreement. Stryder and I had never gotten to talk or have closure after our argument. Perhaps this would be a good chance to reconnect and finally have that talk once and for all. It would liberate both of us further, I guess.
“Admission is free,” the lady added. “I’ll see you later again, okay? I can’t wait for the next chapter of your love story.”
I gave her a weird look. “There is no next chapter,” I told her matter-of-factly.
“We’ll see,” was all she said, which both bothered and excited me.