• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

'Didn't you read the press release?'

'Let's say I didn't.'

I quote it from memory. 'Adams's use of nondigital format is inspired by her fascination with the capacity for error…'

'Okay. Let's skip the press release.'

'Ah, it's just – film is more interesting than digital. There's a possibility of flaw inherent in the material. It's not readily available, so I have to get it over the Net, and some of it has rotted or it's been exposed even before I load it in the camera, but I don't know that until I develop it.'

'Like Self-Portrait?'

'And it's not just the film. It's working without the automatic functions. The operator can fuck up too.'

'Did you fuck up?'

'Ha! That's the great thing about working with damaged materials. You'll never know.'

'It's the same in audio, you know. Digital was too clean when it first came out, almost antiseptic. The fidelity was too clear. You lost the background noise, the sounds you don't even pick up, but it's dead without the context. The audio techs had to adapt the digital to synth the effects of analogue. How insane is that? It's contentious, though – now they're saying it's been bullshit all along, just nostalgics missing the hiss of the recording equipment.'

'That's exactly it. You can do the same thing in photography. Apply effects, lock-out the autofocus, click up for exposure, all to re-create the manual.'

'And you're looking for the background noise.'

'Yeah. Or something like it.' I set my empty can neatly down beside my shoes. 'Got enough?'

'Yeah. I'm good. You give good soundbite,' he says admiringly, so that another Ghost down, we're still sitting on the pavement, just talking, away from the madding, when a dark-haired boy I recognise as the guy from the band, from Andile's office, comes walking down towards us.

'Hey, photographer girl,' he says, friendlier than last time. 'Damian, remember? From Kill Kitten?'

'Hey, Dame,' says Toby. 'How's the bandscene? Did you catch the cast from your gig?'

'Yeah, man, it was killer. Shot. We really appreciate the exposure.'

'It was all you. I just filmed what I experienced. You guys were tight.'

'Well, it was great, man, thanks. We're playing next Saturday, if you want on the guest list.'

'Thanks. So, how do you know our star rising over here?' Toby asks, nodding at me. We are both still sitting, sprawled on the kerb, so Damian is looking down at us. There is a drawnout silence.

'Ho-kay,' Toby shrugs in mock defeat. 'There's obviously some deep unspoken going on here, and I do not need to know the gruesome details.'

'It's nothing like that. We're…' I look to Damian for approval, but he doesn't seem concerned. 'We're both branded.'

'How come you're not chugging Ghosts, then?'

'Are you kidding me?' Damian laughs. 'I've had three already tonight.' He drops to sit on the pavement beside us.

'How much do you drink in a day?' I ask, trying to make it sound throwaway.

'Six, seven? Somewhere around there. My girlfriend keeps tabs on me.' I don't say anything. I'm doing nine to twelve. This is my seventh since four thirty.

'It's lucky you're both the same brand,' Toby says, and is that envy in his voice?

'What if you were competitive? There must be a clause about that. "Section 31c. Thou shalt not fraternise with the enemy."'

'Yeah, can you imagine?' Damian says. 'Coke wars for real.'

'No rival soft-drink friends for you!'

'I don't think that's going to be an issue anytime soon,' I interrupt their banter. 'Andile said they're not doing this with other brands just yet. Ghost has the proprietary licence for three months.'

'Yeah, but we're only first gen. They'll be popping out sponsorbabies like toast.'

'I hate that word.'

'Toast?' chirps Toby, trying to find a way in.

'And what happened to it being exclusive?'

'You'll be able to buy your way in. Got enough cash, enough cool, you're representing. Just like the cosmetics.'

'So we'll be outmoded already.'

'Bleeding edge no more.'

'So,