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Mr. Danya
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"Yeah, that sounds about right."

Nadia's list might've summed up just about everything you'd typically expect to see from a dance, but he supposed the task at hand was delivering photos of exactly that. Really, hearing her spell it out like that had killed some more of his interest in this whole collection: his understanding of what needed to go together was, after all, just another vanilla yearbook spread. Apart from faces, more or less indistinguishable from last year's yearbook, and just as indistinguishable from next year's.

It was tough to make this work into anything special.

Hey let out a long sigh, scratching under the front of his hat at his forehead, gently caressing his temples in the same motion. He'd been at these photos for a while, and whilst he could do this for hours if he was interested, this exercise in futility was draining him. It was time for a break.

"I'm going to head off and mull these over." he said to Nadia without making eye contact and instead glancing down at the photos that he'd already seen plenty another time. "We can pick this up again tomorrow or whatever, if you feel like it."

He grabbed up his bag, offering his fellow photographer a small "Seeya." as he headed out the door, not really stopping to consider how few of her photos he'd looked over. Maybe if he was in a better mood he'd have the energy to return the favour, and maybe with a little more time he'd come to realise how inconsiderate he was being, but for now he really just needed some time to get out of there and brood.

((Sandy Brooks continued elsewhere))
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