Page 1 of Kill Feed

Chapter 1

Adrian

Someone is going to die tonight.

I can feel it in the weight of the trigger beneath my finger, in the quiet patience of the body standing in my sights. She’s perfectly still, waiting for me to decide her fate. So, I steady my hand, letting the swallowed sound of the blood rushing in my ears drag my pulse into a calm, deliberate rhythm. I’ve done this before. I know exactly how to end her.

One squeeze. Just one.

I exhale.

Her chest rises with mine, synced for this one final moment.

Then I pull the trigger.

Click.

“And that’s a wrap,” I say as the last click of the shutter fades out, lowering the camera and stretching the stiffness from my fingers. The lights hum around us, heat pooling in the small studio.

Amani drops her pose, rolling her shoulders and letting the tension slip off her. “Thank God that was the last one,” she chimes, stepping off the white backdrop with a groan. “My face was about to melt off.”

“It was worth it,” I reply. I flip through the last few shots on the monitor, studying how the rich, dark tones of her skin absorb the light and bounce it back into the lens in warm hues.

“How do I look?” she asks, peering over my shoulder, and I move aside, offering her a better view.

My gaze breaks from the monitor as someone starts collapsing one of the softboxes behind me.

“We done here for the day?” Xavier asks, and I'm met with baby blue eyes and a tired smile.

“Not even I put this much effort into an assignment,” he adds, rubbing over his light buzz cut before coiling a cable.

“Oh, so that's why Adrian does so much better compared to you,” Amani remarks, hands on her hips as she adds, “and to think you take the same damn classes.”

The corner of my mouth lifts effortlessly as I start packing up the room whilst they bicker with no animosity. I let the familiar sounds of their voices drift effortlessly beside me in a way I've grown accustomed to over the years.

“Ugh, if the three of you are done, can we go?” A voice now forces its way into the atmosphere. “Please. I’ve been here for hours.”

“You were supposed to be Adrian’s assistant,” Amani states. “Why are you even here, Lucas?”

Lucas is slumped sideways on a chair; head tipped back like he’s seconds away from falling asleep. His hoodie’s ridden up just enough to show the waistband of his boxer briefs peeking from his jeans, and his dark copper hair looks even more like a toddler’s art project than it did thirty minutes ago. He’s been useless the whole shoot… no surprise there, though.

Amani picks up an empty, neglected water bottle and tosses it at him. He flinches like a startled mouse when it smacks his chest, chestnut eyes flaring.

Despite the whining, Lucas Anderson eagerly agreed to assist me on today's photoshoot for one reason and one reason only. He jumped at the opportunity with more enthusiasm than a puppy when he heard Amani would be here. What I didn’t mention was that she would be too preoccupied behind my lens for him to chat her up, thus his sour mood lounging on the scattered chairs in the corner of the room.

Xavier swallows a laugh before flicking his gaze to me, and there’s something approving in those blue orbs. “Anyway… killer shoot, man. Professor Liu said your last project was one of the cleanest compositions in the class. You thinking of submitting this series for the portfolio review?” The question hits a familiar spot in my chest.

The tight, wired pressure that comes with anything academic. Studying photography at Uni isn’t just ‘take pictures’ and ‘get a degree’. It’s hours of studio lighting labs, color science, criticism panels where professors dissect your work like forensic analysts, and so on. Think about it as creativity shoved through a technical meat grinder.

“Hm, possibly,” I answer bluntly. “I'll need to go through the raws first.”

Xavier chuckles, bumping his shoulder lightly into mine as he passes, but has his gaze fixed on Amani as he says, “Translation: he already knows they’re good; he just doesn’t want the ego boost.”

“Shut up,” I mutter with a smirk.

Xavier grabs another stand, folding it down and adds, eyeing the man on the scattered chairs, “We grabbing dinner after this? Or is he too starved to move?”

Lucas flips him off without lifting his head, yet the faintest grimace pulls at the corner of his lips. “A whole day’s worth of shooting, for what? Like ten usable photos?” He sighs, stretching his arms over his head. I ignore him, turning the camera off.