Picture Perfect

He noticed it first in eighth grade. An annoying classmate pressed him for a selfie. He had aimed the camera at himself and in the angst of the moment had wished he was somewhere else. He needed again to arouse that feeling and the best way he knew was thinking of Bryce.

In eighth grade he stared, puzzled, at the empty picture then scrolled through his past Instagrams. With a lopsided grin, his usual self, greeted him from the phone. He learned to control his thoughts eventually. However, he could not separate the angst from Bryce.

A few years later she asked again for a selfie, this time together. He had expected she'd turn in anger at his disappearing act. She only looked at him, then at the picture and turned around with a grin on her face.

"No wonder she never talked to me again." he mumbled while making an effort to keep the pace with the rest of the passers-by.

Today, his life depended on this ability, to sneak unnoticed, first by this TV crew, then through the network of cameras inside. He needed to keep thinking of Bryce until he passed the last one. He thought of little else the past ten years, however. Who could imagine a wedding without the groom in any of the pictures?

He entered through the revolving glass door, hurried to the elevator and let himself into the lab. He grinned with satisfaction and reached for the transparent case with red vials when the hardened end of a gun pressed against his ribs.

"How ?" he managed a whisper.

"Turn slowly" a well-known voice prompted him.

Bryce reached for her phone and placed it at his eye level.

"We look good together. Remember this picture?"

Then she winked.

"I saw you on TV."