Peter Liu - Watering Heaven

“A couple years now. I do a lot of fashion shows and production stills for movie sets. How do you like LA?”

“It’s great! Check this out.” She suddenly stood up, dropped her skirt, revealing a g-string and a bare rear. There was a tattoo of an elephant shaped like a human on the left cheek of her butt. “I got that in Venice.”

“Why an elephant?” I asked.

“It’s not just an elephant,” she said. “It’s Ganesha.” Seeing my confusion, “He’s a Hindu god.” She described a couple places out on Sunset she’d been to, getting drunk the night before at a gay bar, hunting down places for karaoke. “We only found one place but the line was way too long.”

“You gotta go to Koreatown,” I said. “They have the karaoke places with your own private room.”

“Do you know where they are?” Jenna asked excitedly.

“Of course. You want to go?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

I laughed. “All right. But only after the party dies down. We still gotta make contacts.”

“Sounds good.”

Rick came by and I introduced him to the two.

“How long you in town?” he asked Jenna.

“Two more days. I was hoping to meet some photographers so I could get some photos before I went back.”

“Well today’s your lucky day. The two of us will take your photos.”

“REALLY?!” she exclaimed.

Rick laughed. “Really.”

“Do you guys mind taking different kinds of photos?”

“What do you mean different ?”

“I mean nudes,” she answered.

“Not at all,” Rick said.

Jenna peered over at me furtively.

We chatted more, poured additional drinks. Desdemona and Jenna went to take a quick bathroom break.

“That girl digs you,” Rick said to me.

“Who?”

“Jenna, who else?”

“She’s just being nice because I’m a contact.”

“She digs you, man. You guys have chemistry.”

I laughed and shrugged it off. But inside, I wondered, does she? She was attractive, funny, quirky. I was interested.

When the two returned, Rick said, “Why don’t you take a couple photos right now?”

“I don’t have my camera,” I said.

“You can use mine. It’s in the car. Here’s the keys.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jenna said with a bright smile.

We headed for his Jeep.

“I don’t know what it is, but lately, I feel like everything I do is a lie,” I said.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I don’t feel inspired anymore. I keep on wondering, is this it? I mean, yeah, you can make more money, but how do you get better? How do you push the art without just trying to be provocative to get attention?”

We got to Rick’s car and I jumped in to grab his camera. When I popped out, Jenna was standing right next to me. I could feel her breath on my skin. She tottered into me, tangled her arms with mine.

“Take out your camera,” she said. I took it out. She pressed her body against mine. “Why don’t you let me inspire you?”

She was about to take off her top when I stopped her. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I don’t… I don’t like doing this kind of photography. I don’t think it’s artistic or fresh. It’s just T&A.”

She stared at me disappointed.

“Sorry,” I said.

She shook her head. “I understand.”

We headed back without another word.

III.

I sat alone feeling miserable.

“What’s wrong, man?” Rick asked.

“Nothing.”

We were back in the tent when two photographers came our way. One was short, stocky, with a ‘50s-style suit and a fedora. He had an oblong face that seemed very smug and insecure at the same time, carrying a pair of binoculars attached to a box.

“3D photography,” he explained. Looking through the glasses, each slide had an image that popped out. It was pretty amazing as the flat plane of normal visual imagery seemed more vivid and raw: images of men tied up by women, ribald playfulness rampant.

His companion was an obese male who’d shaved his head. He had a thick beard and gruff voice, his posture imperious and overbearing. “So what’s your story?” he said to the girls. “’Cause you guys realize this is a ‘networking’ party, the key word being networking . Ever since I’ve gotten here, you guys isolated yourselves. Why’s that?”

“We didn’t isolate ourselves. We were just having a smoke.”

“For the past two hours?”

They introduced themselves: Jacob, the big one, Jefferson, the shorter one.

“I hate it when models think they can give feedback to us,” Jacob said. “We’re the artists. Just shut up and pose. That’s why we’re hiring you. But no, they always want to give input.”

“I don’t think input hurts,” Jefferson said. “I’ve gotten some of my best work done through suggestions.”

“I’m the total opposite. Whenever models give input, they don’t see the big picture. I try to explain things I see in my head, but they just don’t get it. I’m like, just trust me. I know what I’m doing. It always works that way. Suppose you take their input and it comes out like crap. You think they’ll take responsibility? No, but suppose I’m a total asshole and I force my vision on them. Even if they’re not happy, if it turns out awesome, they’ll forget everything and praise me afterwards. That’s the way it works. I don’t give a damn what they think.”

“I know your work,” Jenna said. “I’m a big fan.”

“That’s good,” Jacob replied. “I’m amused by you.”

“By me?”

“I want you to be in one of my projects.”

“Really?” she said with a surprised gesture, cheeks turning red.

They chatted while I went to grab a drink with Rick.

“That guy gets on my nerves,” Rick said.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Is he good?”

“He’s famous. He gets his stuff shown in galleries all the time.”

“Why don’t you like him?”

Rick kind of shrugged. “It’s his attitude, he thinks he knows it all. Guys like that just rub me the wrong way. I think no matter where you are in life, you gotta always stay humble. There’s a couple girls he dated. They told me he didn’t treat them well, verbally abusive. But they didn’t care because he was famous. He gets girls lined up all the time man. That could be you, you know.”

I laughed. “Does fame make it okay for you to treat people like crap?”

Rick laughed. “Course not. Then again, I’m not famous,” laughing more. “You want to get going?”

I thought about Jenna. “Yeah, I’m kinda tired.”

When we got back to the tent, Jacob was saying, “—this hardcore porn actor but he’d gotten so sick and tired of it, he gave up sex and became a monk. Said sex wasn’t fun anymore.”

They laughed hard.

“We’re gonna get going,” Rick said.

“What about karaoke?” Jenna asked.

“You still want to go?” I asked.

“Of course! Can we?”

“Yeah. Rick?”

“Naw man, I’m too tired. You go have fun.”

I nodded. “I’ll have to get my car but I can meet you guys there.”

“All right!” Jenna exclaimed. “You’re coming with us, right?” she asked Jacob.

“Uhh, I don’t know if that’s my thing.”

“Oh c’mooooooonnnnnn,” she said.

Jacob laughed. “I am curious to observe you in that setting.”

Desdemona, glum and feeling ignored, muttered, “We gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

“We’ll just be there for one hour.”

It was settled.

IV.

Koreatown has different rules from the rest of Los Angeles. People can smoke indoors and drink alcohol past the 2 a.m. cutoff. The parking lot was filled with ‘rice rockets,’ Hondas and BMWs upgraded to be racing cars. The karaoke station was on the second story in a big plaza. After we entered, we were escorted by a cute young Korean girl to a station in the back. We passed several rooms with tinted glass panels where we could hear accented voices blaring John Lennon and Phil Collins. “Can we get a soju and tambourines?” I asked the girl.