Just a Doll Face

"Ughhhhh, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it," Quinn's frustrated voice echoed through the university garden. Underneath a towering tree, she sat, her iPad connected to her DSLR, scrolling through her pictures. These days, only one thing was gnawing at Quinn’s mind, her last project—the graduation exhibit. With only six months remaining, she was stressed out of her wits. She was already halfway through it, but she knew she was missing something. Something that would make her work stand out from the others. But what could it be? The question remained unanswered for her. Not to mention, settling for anything less than perfect was never an option for her. With a sigh, Quinn gently tapped her head against the iPad screen, lost in deep contemplation. The ideas kept shooting through her mind every few seconds, but nothing was to her liking. And when she finally raised her head, a breathtaking sight greeted her eyes. She couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to grab her camera. Click! — The shutter captured the moment, freezing it in time. With bated breath, she examined the result on the screen, and there it was. She had just captured the most exquisite picture of her life, and the subject in the frame was just mesmerizing. He resembled a bewitching character from a classic painting, a creature of myth rather than a mere mortal. The sunlight made his hair shine brightly. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of gray, his face so symmetrical that a snowflake would get jealous. He was absurdly beautiful. But it wasn't just his face that had Quinn so captivated. In that photo, he was smiling so brightly as he watched two stray kittens play, and that SMILE—oh, that smile radiated warmth and joy, capable of mending even the deepest sorrows. Quinn knew instantly that including him as a model in her project would make it a done deal. But to make it happen, she needed his permission. As she lifted her gaze, hoping to see the guy once again and capture a few more shots with his consent, two words escaped her lips effortlessly: "Doll Face." To her dismay, the guy had vanished, leaving behind only the playful kittens. "Damn it," she hissed through clenched teeth, closing her eyes tightly with frustration. It had been two torturous months since she’d last felt that exhilarating spark in any of her photos. And now that she'd finally found it, the guy had disappeared before she could obtain his permission. The picture she had taken would be rendered useless without his consent. "Was he even real?" she mused once again, a chuckle escaping her lips. Disbelief mingled with amusement as she shook her head. Throughout her life, she had never believed in supernatural beings, even as a child. For her, beauty and magnificence resided solely within the memories and meanings captured within photographs. "How could someone like that exist?" she murmured, her gaze fixated on the captivating photo. "I must find you, Doll Face, no matter the cost," she declared, her smile transforming into a sly grin. With a glance at her wrist, adorned with a bronze sapphire watch—her mother's precious gift on her twenty-first birthday—she confirmed the hour. "It's five o'clock," she murmured, deciding to visit the same location every day at this precise time. Though he seemed to be from the same university, she knew he wasn't a fellow photography major. As the student council president of her department and the most active member, she was acquainted with all her juniors. ... The blonde guy was sitting in a chair in the library, reading a novel with as much interest as an office worker in a Zoom meeting. He aimlessly flipped through the pages, finding the writing to be atrocious. It was all about love, love, and love. And love to him meant nothing more than a word made up of four letters. It had no real meaning whatsoever. He just needed to finish that damned book for his literature review. He really was disappointed in himself for choosing English as his minor. "Joshua!” someone took the chair right in front of the blonde guy, smiling cheerfully. The frustration on Joshua’s face couldn’t get any more obvious than that. Ignoring his reaction, she continued, “According to the requirements, both seniors and juniors must work in pairs. Would you consider partnering with me?" Joshua knew that it was too peaceful to be true today. "I'll take that as a yes and submit our names," she said with a big smile, her determination undeterred. Oblivious to how suffocating her presence was, or maybe she was just that insistent, she refused to acknowledge Joshua's disinterest. Joshua chose to ignore her as he continued to read that stupid book. The girl sighed, shaking her head, and leaned in, resting her elbow on the table and her chin on her palm, gazing at him while he tried his best to make sense of the story. "Should I just submit our names together?" she pressed. Joshua took a deep breath, restraining his urge to snap at her. "Should I?" she teased, hoping to provoke a reaction, a smirk gliding across her lips. Joshua rose from his seat, intending to leave. However, she swiftly seized his arm, stopping him before he could get away. Joshua's patience finally wore thin as he forcefully yanked his hand away from her grasp before she could say anything else. "How many times? HOW MANY TIMES do I have to say it? Stay away from ME!" His voice echoed with frustration, a mixture of anger and exasperation. He rubbed his wrist against his jeans, as though trying to wipe away the sensation. It wasn't anything new, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. People touching, cameras snapping — he was tired of everything, but nothing ever seemed to get better. Unaffected by his outburst, the girl's laughter filled the air. She found delight in his reactions; getting a reaction from Joshua was never easy, and she wore it like a crown. As if it were only she who could get his attention, enough for him to react. While other girls had given up on him after a few failed attempts, she remained steadfast in her pursuit, believing herself to be unique and deserving. It was a self-imposed illusion, a complex of her own making. Joshua glared at her, his eyes narrowing. The intensity in his gaze conveyed his disdain and the boundary he had drawn between them, but to no avail; she still didn’t want to read the room.