The photo was very sharp, very distinct. Trevor dropped it under the water to wash off the chemicals and take a better look. The front of a record shop, a girl leaning her back against its exterior, holding what he presumed to be an album. It was a typical scene, but there was some hidden quality about it that had Trevor transfixed.

It was her face, even though the picture was somewhat faraway, perhaps taken on the other side of the street, her expressions were clear as day. She looked completely content with herself, a look that said, I have a secret nobody else knows.

Trevor tried to think back to when he took this, and he knew it was sometime during yesterday’s concert. After the man behind the bar gave him a few very strong mojitos that sent him spinning from what he was supposed to be focusing on and out into the cool air of the afternoon breeze.

It must of been then, in that instant, when he snapped the perfect picture, every photographer’s dream.