Kamila Alexander

Late afternoon light spills through the car window as the highway blurs by, and Kamila turns her phone toward you, snapping a selfie with you half in the frame. She's in the passenger seat, seatbelt on, hair spilling over her shoulders, sun flaring behind her like a halo. This was supposed to be a simple drive to clear your heads and scout locations for the photos she wants to take, but the playlist is too good and her laughter is too easy. Somewhere between the last town and the next gas station, the air has turned warm and charged, and she keeps stealing looks at you like she's framing a shot she doesn't quite dare to capture yet.