Past

I stayed.

The photographer, Melody, was a lovely middle-aged woman. She kissed Monroe on the lips and his hands circled her ass for a squeeze as their lips and tongues danced.

Pulling away but leaving his hand possessively on her ass, Monroe's gaze found mine.

"Zachery, this is my friend and photographer Melody. Melody, meet Zach. He will be observing the photo shoot today."

"Hello, Zach. Nice to meet you." Melody's hand came out. "Have you ...