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Oskar: Constructing the Beautiful Stranger

A real life ‘victim’ with apologies – Oskar Panczyk – Instagram

A face flickers onto your screen, luminous against the glow of white. His name is Oskar. Polish.

Do not only look at him — look into him. Look deeper, into the fragile soul the image seems to hold.

Dark, floppy hair falls over his forehead. Eyebrows, plucked into careful shape. Blue eyes, steady yet uncertain. A nose — imperfect, bent by childhood misfortune. He will tell you he hates it. On his cheek, a beauty spot. Lips tinted red, like those of a silenced cherub. Skin smooth, unmarked, a faint pink warmth beneath it — the softness of someone who has not yet learned the burden of a daily shave.

He is handsome. He gazes at you — yes, you — though he cannot see you. You were not there when the shutter snapped. This photograph was never meant for your eyes. He looked into the camera, not knowing that one day 609 strangers scattered across the world would press little red hearts beneath his image and leave their offerings:

Awww. Feel better bby!!

You’re a great boy but why are you always so sad?

Need help warming up?

Chat me… where you from?

The longer you stare, the closer you believe you are to him. It is no longer just his face you think you know, but his voice, halting in broken English. The scent of his skin. His small gestures. The rhythm of his days, chasing money. His favourite dish. The films and songs he loves. The clutter of his apartment, how he folds his clothes, where he hides his secrets. Your imagination strokes him into being, shaping him into someone almost yours.

But it is only an illusion. What you touch is not him, but your own invention — a caress of pixels, a silhouette of desire. This is a one-way street, where your longing paints him in colours he does not wear. The ‘halo effect’ blinds you, persuading you that the good you see must be true.

It is not. It never was.

What you hold in your gaze is not Oskar at all, but your reflection dressed in his borrowed face.

The tide waits for no one (but maybe for content)

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The tide is advancing and the boy and girl appear oblivious. I worry that they will be stranded on the rocks, but it seems that they don’t care. The sharp edges cause discomfort for the girl in the swimsuit as she crawls over them. The boy sits looking at his phone. She gets to where she wants to be and the boy starts filming. When she does a headstand, I realise that this is for Tik Tok. I hope that she loses her balance, falls, and that there will be lots of blood. But she completes the manoeuvre and goes back to where the boy is scrutinising the video that might make her famous.

I plot their escape route. There is no way up because there is a high wall built for William Rashleigh as the foundations for a marine villa. In recent times, the comedian Dawn French might have looked upon the boy and girl and thought the same as me, but she is long gone. There is only one way, and that is into the sea.

The boy takes his white t-shirt off. He wears a pair of long swim shorts and is pale and slender. He looks longingly into the sea, thrusts out his chest, and throws himself in, his black hair slick and wet, bobbing in the waves, and eventually swimming back to the rocks. If Dawn French was there, she might have shouted, “Get your shorts off skinny!” But, as I have said, she is gone.

All this time, the girl with the long blonde hair has been taking selfies, an obsession with likes and follows, and I decide that I don’t like her. Perhaps the boy took a swim to rid himself of the monotony and shallowness of it all. He will now have to pretend how wonderful her photos are.

They get dressed and gather up their belongings before jumping into the water and wading waist high towards the beach. I wish that she would stumble and fall beneath the waves. That would be very popular on Tik Tok.

Stolen Words / Posting through the thirst trap