Unapproachable Horizon

Chapter 3: Rules of the Lens

The Gazette classroom buzzed with quiet anticipation as the auditioners filed in. The existing Gazette members, including Zavierra and Alisha, sat around the long tables arranged in a U-shape. Kael stood at the head, his sharp eyes scanning the room with a mix of authority and amusement.

“Let’s get started,” Kael announced, his voice carrying the friendly sharpness that had become his signature. “First, the results.”

Aiden, seated near the back, clutched his camera bag tightly. His nerves were a tangled mess, though he tried to appear calm. Zavierra sat a few seats away, focused on her notebook, seemingly indifferent to the proceedings. Alisha, seated beside her, whispered to a friend, her usual lively energy masking any deeper thoughts.

Kael began listing the names of the new members, pausing dramatically before each one. When he reached the final name, he glanced directly at Aiden. “Aiden Anderson. Welcome to the Gazette as our new photojournalist.”

Aiden exhaled, relief washing over him. He caught Alisha giving him a polite clap, while Zavierra didn’t look up from her notes.

“Now that the formalities are out of the way,” Kael continued, “let’s get to work. Everyone, introduce yourselves briefly so our new members know who they’ll be working with.”

The introductions went around the room, each member sharing their role and a little about themselves. When it was Alisha’s turn, she spoke confidently, her voice bright. “I’m Alisha Cruz, part of the editorial team. I make sure the Gazette’s articles are polished and ready to publish.”

Zavierra followed shortly after. Her tone was cool and composed. “Zavierra Nikolaev, head of the science and technology column.”

Aiden couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two friends—Alisha’s vivacity versus Zavierra’s composed precision. He admired them both but for entirely different reasons.

Kael concluded the introductions with a reminder. “The Gazette operates on professionalism. Everything you do reflects on the club. And as outlined in the handbook, we have strict guidelines—especially for photojournalism. Follow the rules, and we’ll have no issues.” His gaze lingered on Aiden for a moment longer than the others.

To break the ice and encourage collaboration, Kael assigned a group activity. “You’ll pair up and spend the next hour practicing your craft. Writers, work on drafts. Photographers, capture candid shots of the group. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Aiden was paired with a senior member, who offered tips on composition and lighting as they moved around the room. Zavierra and Alisha worked together, their dynamic seamless as always. Aiden’s lens occasionally wandered toward Zavierra, drawn to her quiet focus and the natural way she interacted with her peers.

As the activity progressed, Aiden found himself snapping candid shots of everyone. He captured Alisha’s animated gestures as she spoke, Kael’s sharp profile as he observed the group, and even Zavierra’s subtle smile when Alisha cracked a joke. It was instinctive, a photographer’s habit of seeking beauty in fleeting moments.

When the activity ended and the room began to empty, Zavierra approached Aiden. Her steps were measured, her expression calm but resolute.

“Anderson,” she said, her voice cutting through the quiet. “Can I have a word with you?”

Aiden blinked, startled. “Uh, sure.”

She waited until the last of the members had left before speaking again.

“As someone in photojournalism, you should know when and who you should take pictures of. It’s written in the Springwood High Gazette handbook. If you want to continue in this club, follow the rules.”

Her tone was firm, each word carefully chosen. Aiden opened his mouth to explain but faltered under her steady gaze. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just… the moment felt right.”

Zavierra raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “You should always ask permission when you photograph something, especially people."

"Right..." Aiden nodded, lowering his gaze down to the floor, feeling ashamed of what he had done.

"Just don’t let it happen again,” she said, turning to leave.

As she walked away, her mind began to churn. Had she been too harsh? Would Aiden take her words the wrong way? She shook her head, pushing the thoughts aside. She had done what was necessary to maintain order and uphold the rules.

Left alone in the classroom, Aiden let out a long breath. He replayed the conversation in his mind, a mix of guilt and admiration settling in his chest. Zavierra’s words had been sharp, but they only strengthened his resolve.

He glanced down at his camera, the image of Zavierra’s candid moment still fresh in his mind. “I’ll prove I belong here,” he murmured to himself, determination lighting his gaze.

Little did they both know, this encounter was just the beginning of something neither of them could foresee.