Boy Versus Girl Prologue and Chapter One

PROLOGUE

He was the sort of guy who was used to having girls gawk at him.

She was the sort of girl who was used to having guys pass her over.

Funny how that happens, really. You come to stereotype yourself. Not deliberately, of course, but eventually, it gets to the point where you're not at all surprised that you were/weren't noticed back there.

These self-inflicted stereotypes, like most stereotypes, can be cast off when the stereotyper gets sick of what they've created for themselves. This takes time, but eventually, it happens to everyone.

Of course, there is a faster way to abolish the monotony.  And that's where this story comes in to play.

CHAPTER ONE (UPDATE 04.12.09)

"Uh, no, they're all wrong!"

"But Mr. Farthing..." The man wasn't so much stating as begging at this point. "We've done this five times, every time, you've found something wrong! My people can only handle so much from a single person. Please, look it all over again. There must be at least one photo that you like?"

"Nope. So we'll just have to do it a sixth time. And if your people can't handle me, then I guess you don't want my money. Tragic, too..."

"Sir, I assure you, we want your money. It's just...it's you that we don't want. You're quite maddening."

"I've been told. " He looked at the man. After about fifteen seconds of silence, he blinked a couple of times. "If you don't have anything else to say, I think we should get on with the show, don't you? I could be looking important somewhere else right now if you had done a half decent job the first time."

"Very well," the man conceded, scurrying off. He was small; about 5'2", and slightly heavier than a man of such short stature was expected to be. He had a sharply receding hairline, which, at that very moment, was revealing a forehead drenched with sweat. It blended fairly well with his gray suit and metallic lavender tie, but, at that very moment, he was too preoccupied to notice that small detail; a rarity. Usually, he noticed every little detail about himself, probably a result of working as a photographer for the last 20 years. In his business, he always said, you had to notice everything.

"From the top," he screeched, mopping his brow of sweat. "It's still not right people. We're going to get this right, if we have to stay here until tomorrow morning before this happens!"

"Oh, and by the way," the boy's voice floated from behind, causing the manager of the photoshoot to jump, "those lights are kind of hot. They're melting my hairstyle. Sexiness like this," he said briskly, pointing to his hair, "does not happen without effort."

"Very well, we'll turn off some of the lights," he cried. "I don't know how we're supposed to take a photo without lighting, but I'm sure that if that's what Mr. Farthing wants, it can be arranged. And it took my stylist almost twenty minutes to pose you like that, and you've gone and stood up and ruined it! Now what?"

"Well, I don't think it matters much. I didn't like that pose anyways. It made me feel too workaday. I'm thirsty. I want a pomegranate seltzer. Now."

"Ugh. Done." The man clapped his hands quickly, causing a teenage girl to materialize next to him. She looked the boy standing in front of her over quickly, her jaw dragging along the floor the whole time.

"Neil...Neil...Neil...You're...but..."

"I know who I am. What I don't know is who you are. I don't care, either. Just get me a pomegranate seltzer."

"Ok...Sure..." The girl stood there, speechless for another moment before yelping and running away.

"Mr. Tweedy, you need to get a better waitstaff. They're terribly slow, and seem to have no respect for anyone."

"Look who's talking," the man named Tweedy muttered. When the boy looked up at him, he said more loudly "I quite agree. She'll be disposed of as soon as I find someone as willing to cooperate as yourself."

"It won't happen, you know. I'm very one-of-a-kind. I mean, I'm sure you can try, but I wouldn't expect any results or anything to come from the experience."

"That is true, you are very unique. I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss my chances of finding anyone useful, though." Tweedy was finding that the best thing to do in these situations was to play along.

"Well I suppose I can't say anything right now. I mean, clearly you haven't put any effort into finding anyone who could be of any practicality. Who knows? If you tried, you just might find someone as amazing as me." He scoffed. "Highly unlikely, of course, but there is always that chance..."

"Yes, I suppose so. Now, if you don't mind, I think we should get on with this photoshoot. I would hate to keep you here any later than I have to. I know what a pain this must be to everyone."

"You have no idea. Honestly Tweedy, sometimes, it really sucks being amazing."