CHAPTER 2: Something about rain
1012 Words
Chapter 2: Something About Rain
It had been three days since the midnight encounter, and Kaeynna was still annoyed with herself for thinking about him.
She didn’t even like mysterious men. Or photographers. Or men, in general, these days. Yet every time she walked past the lobby, a tiny part of her glanced at the corner where he had stood, dripping rain and grinning like a scene out of some indie movie.
Samantha hadn’t helped either. She kept dropping Calix’s name into conversation like it was normal:
“Oh, that guy Calix? Yeah, his i********: is basically a black-and-white heartbreak gallery.”
Or:
“He shot an ad campaign last year that got taken down for being too intimate.”
“Sounds like the kind of guy who’s allergic to stability,” Kaeynna had muttered.
Still, late one evening, she found herself typing “Calix Grey photography” into a search bar. One click turned into five, and before long, she was scrolling through a series of hauntingly beautiful portraits. Strangers, lovers, children, and cities—all captured with an ache that made her stomach turn unexpectedly.
“Don’t get pulled in,” she whispered to herself, shutting the tab.
But fate, it seemed, wasn’t done with Calix Grey.
---
That Saturday, Samantha dragged Kaeynna to a gallery downtown, citing “culture and cocktails” as her excuse.
“Just an hour,” Samantha promised, already pulling her toward the entrance.
The place was buzzing with people. Kaeynna didn’t recognize anyone—which meant it was definitely an art crowd. People with asymmetrical haircuts, oversized scarves, and emotional brooding in their eyes.
“I hate you,” Kaeynna muttered as they weaved through the crowd.
“You love me,” Samantha replied sweetly, offering her a drink from the bar.
The gallery walls were lined with striking black-and-white photos. One in particular caught Kaeynna’s eye—a young woman in a subway tunnel, mascara streaked down her face, clutching a paper flower.
It was raw. Sad. Familiar.
“You’re staring too hard,” a voice said behind her.
She froze.
Turning slowly, she met those stormy gray eyes again. Calix stood there in a charcoal button-down and jeans, a camera slung over one shoulder.
“I don’t stalk photographers,” she said flatly.
“I believe you,” he replied, smiling. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I work here.”
Kaeynna blinked. “This is your gallery?”
He chuckled. “Not mine. But a lot of these are my pieces. I rotate here once a season.”
Samantha, who had silently reappeared beside them, looked between them with a grin so wide it could have split her face. “You two know each other! How... unexpected.”
Kaeynna gave her the death glare.
Calix offered Samantha a polite nod. “Thanks for bringing her. I wasn’t sure I’d see Kaeynna again.”
“You didn’t even ask for my number,” Kaeynna said before she could stop herself.
Calix’s smile grew. “Would you have given it?”
She opened her mouth to retort—and found she didn’t have an answer.
“I’ll take that as a maybe,” he said. “Come. I’ll show you my favorite piece.”
He led them to a back corner of the gallery. There, nestled in a pool of soft light, was a single framed photo. A man sitting on a park bench under an umbrella, a woman walking past him in the rain, just out of frame, the space between them charged and silent.
Kaeynna stared.
“There’s something about rain,” Calix murmured beside her. “It washes away the lies. The masks.”
“It also ruins shoes and gives you colds,” she replied, but her voice was quiet now.
Samantha, sensing something, made a graceful exit toward the wine table.
Calix turned to Kaeynna. “I’d like to take your picture sometime.”
“No,” she said instantly.
He didn’t look surprised. “Why not?”
“I don’t like being seen.”
His head tilted slightly. “Everyone wants to be seen. Just not misunderstood.”
She looked away.
“You seem like someone who’s built walls so high, you forgot what the sky looks like,” he said softly.
“I know what the sky looks like,” she replied.
“Do you?” he asked. “Because last time I saw you, you looked like someone waiting for rain to fall.”
Kaeynna narrowed her eyes. “That’s poetic. Almost manipulative.”
He smiled. “You’re fun to talk to.”
She sighed. “You’re exhausting.”
They stood in silence again, and she hated how natural it felt.
“I don’t do relationships,” she said suddenly.
“I don’t either,” he replied. “Not the kind that come with checklists and expiration dates.”
“What do you do, then?”
“I exist in moments,” he said. “And sometimes, those moments mean more than whole lifetimes.”
Something in his tone made her pause. He wasn’t just being charming—there was pain under the surface. Experience. Regret.
She stepped back, suddenly cold.
“I should go.”
Calix didn’t stop her. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for... rain.”
She hated herself for saying it. Hated even more how his laugh followed her all the way to the street.
---
Back home, Kaeynna dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling.
What was she doing?
She didn’t have room for a man like Calix Grey in her life. He was chaos dressed in charm, art wrapped in wounds. She needed order. Control. Safety.
But her heart—traitorous thing that it was—had started tapping in time with a rhythm she thought she'd buried.
And in the space between her thoughts, just before sleep claimed her, she whispered one word.
“Calix.”
- Writer
