I take a sip of coffee and he takes a sip of his, and then he starts driving. His car is so old it has a CD player, and to my absolute delight, Radiohead’s The Bends is playing. This all feels too good to be true, and I wait for something terrible to happen.

“Nice choice,” I say, gesturing toward the CD player.

“It’s the only CD I have in here,” he says, then laughs. “Actually, I think Jax—the guy who had the party the other night—left a Lana Del Rey CD in here. I figured you were more of a Radiohead gal.”

It’s cute Beau chose the music based on what he thought I would like. “I like Lana,” I say. “She’s so aloof and alien, all artifice and cinematic glamor—my shit.” I pause, wondering if this sounds pretentious. “But Radiohead is my favorite band of all time.” I take a sip of my coffee. “Not very creative, I know.”

“If it ain’t broke,” Beau says. He smiles. “The black coffee of bands.”

I smile, then say, “Why dilute perfection?”

Barnsdall is just a few blocks from my place. Beau rolls into the parking lot after only a few songs. As soon as he parks, he jumps out of his seat and opens my door again.

“Thanks,” I say. I get out and feel the damp morning air on my skin. The park is empty and angelic at this hour, the dirty buildings bathed in cool light. I stretch my arms into the sky, and Beau opens the back door to get his camera bag.

“Oh,” Beau says as we walk up to the olive grove, “I have an interview at ten, so we should leave by nine fifteen. I doubt it will take that long to get the shot, but just a heads-up.”

“Cool,” I say. “What’s the interview for?”

Beau pauses, seemingly thinking, like he forgot. “Photographer’s assistant,” he says finally. “Let’s try this spot.”

He stops in the middle of the olive grove. This is the exact spot I would have chosen. The city skyline would be too busy, too obvious.

“For who?” I ask.

He is pulling his camera from his bag. I am excited to see it is an old film camera, a Pentax—exactly what my dad used in the ‘90s.

“Alex Prager,” he says as he stands up, stretching his long legs and providing an enticing image of his body. For the first time this morning, we make eye contact. His fair skin and sharp features pop in the cool light, and I suppose mine are doing the same. I want to kiss his chapped lips, feel his lean torso against mine. I want him to grab my waist really hard. I take a deep breath.