After talking with Jihoon, Suhyeon realized that he had been relying on the screen.
He had gotten used to monitoring himself in real time and perfectly recreating the image reflected on the screen.
It’s not a bad thing… The problem is, I acted like I was stamped out of a mold.
Acting was the work of expressing imagination and experience outwardly.
Imagining how one was being perceived was also an element that made acting shine, but by checking himself in real time, Suhyeon had dulled that part.
I never thought being able to see would hinder my imagination.
People relied heavily on their vision, and being able to see often created limitations.
The image Suhyeon created couldn’t surpass his own perception.
The fact that he could always see himself ended up hindering his growth.
I’ve been solving problems while looking at half the answers. Still, it’s lucky I realized it now.
If he had only noticed after becoming an adult, it would have been hard to fix.
Unable to overcome the wall he’d built himself, he might have ended up as a competent but mediocre product, consumed and forgotten.
Besides, I learned something new…
As he thought that far, Suhyeon glanced around himself.
The screen that always occupied a corner whenever he was reflected in the camera was nowhere to be seen.
Who would’ve thought there’d be an on-off function.
Realizing that he’d been relying on the screen without even knowing it, he shone his face with his phone and pondered how he could take photos without paying attention to the screen.
Unlike dramas or movies, where multiple cameras filmed simultaneously, a single camera capturing a moment in a photo was heavily influenced by the screen.
Even if he minimized the screen or pushed it into a blind spot, at the moment he pressed the shutter, he became conscious of the screen.
It annoyed me so much I wished it would disappear, and then it really did. Before, no matter what I did, it wouldn’t go away, so I just pushed it aside. I never thought my ability would grow without me noticing…
Just as he was struggling with this, the small window that had floated around him disappeared.
It was a perfect happy ending, with the screen completely excluded.
It’s a bit empty now that it’s gone… How did I manage when it wasn’t there?
Freed from the opaque window after a year, Suhyeon fell into a strange sense of loss.
It felt like losing a tail, annoying but useful at times.
Along with Suhyeon’s sense of loss, there was a flurry of movement to fill that empty space.
Like how air tastes sweet when you suddenly breathe after being suffocated, a sensation you never noticed before.
The senses that had been suppressed by his expanded vision filled the void.
Should I say my senses have gotten sharper? It feels like anything I shoot will come out well.
To appear more vivid, he revealed himself, endlessly imagining how he would look…
Whatever had been suppressed now appeared as an attention-grabbing aura, and Suhyeon naturally drew the gaze of others.
Like the Pied Piper, it was a change that suited the word “control.”
I don’t think this sensation will last long… I’ll have to work much harder.
Even air that once tasted sweet would turn dull once you get used to it.
It was inevitable to become numb to the same stimulus, and he had to make it his own by learning from the path he’d already walked.
For now, the photoshoot comes first.
Suhyeon looked into Jihoon’s eyes and grinned mischievously.
Now that he had a new weapon, it was time to strike back.
* * *
“Sunbae…”
“I’m busy, so shut up.”
“…”
At Jihoon’s sharp growl, Kangho, who had called out to him, flinched and watched for his reaction.
Even while snapping, Jihoon’s focus beyond the viewfinder was professional.
As an artist, he’s someone to respect. As a human being, he’s trash…
Kangho, who was both an assistant and a student, glanced at Jihoon.
With his large build and habit of speaking politely even to kids, it was easy to be fooled, but Jihoon’s character was rotten.
He didn’t care about others, no sense of empathy, and didn’t bother to hide his old-fashioned sexist mindset.
And yet, I still stick around… I must be something else too…
Kangho turned his gaze to the models.
Even to the naked eye, the two subjects were charming, expressing the affectionate bond of father and son to the fullest.
The child actor’s name was Kang Suhyeon, right…? Is he a genius too? In this field, it’s like every other person is a genius. Or maybe, geniuses just gather around sunbae, so the genius density is high.
What caught Kangho’s eye most was the young child actor, Suhyeon.
Until just before the break, he’d been the cookie-cutter “adorable son,” but now, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, he sparkled and drew everyone’s gaze.
Even the college student part-timers hired today couldn’t take their eyes off Suhyeon.
I want to capture a subject like that myself, but even though I’ve finally developed an eye for it, sunbae still won’t let me touch a camera. And besides, he’s a kid, so his shelf life is short. That’s a real fleeting moment. When will I ever meet a kid like that again?
He could understand why Jihoon couldn’t put the camera down.
Who would want to miss such a beautiful, shining moment?
Even in that radiance, Lee Seohan, who didn’t get overshadowed, was impressive, but the one who really tugged at the heartstrings was the child.
I’m not confident I can capture all of that, but I could at least try, right? Of course, I’ll probably get depressed when the result doesn’t match what I saw, but still, my hands are itching.
Having survived two years in Yu Jihoon’s studio, Kangho wasn’t an incompetent photographer.
Outside the studio, he’d held several exhibitions and won more than a handful of well-known domestic awards.
It was just that his mentor’s skills were so overwhelming that he looked like a rookie who wasn’t even allowed to touch a camera in the studio.
I’m the only one without a camera…
Kangho looked down at his empty hands with a sullen gaze.
Today, more than ever, he missed his other half, the Canon EOS-1Ss he’d left at home.
* * *
Suhyeon planted a kiss on Seohan’s cheek.
He felt a pang of self-loathing, wondering if this was what he’d come back for.
Yet even during his idol days, he’d blown hand kisses and made hearts with his members for bromance and whatnot, so it wasn’t something to frown about.
I’ve only used this secret weapon on my dad three times, and now… Ugh, all for money.
He let his mind wander as he flashed a smiling gaze at the camera.
Whatever he might have felt in the inside, on the outside, he was a child so happy he didn’t know what to do with himself.
I hope it’s coming out well. It’s my first time going all out in this body, so I’m a bit worried if I’m doing okay.
Thinking of Jiyeon and Hochan brought a smile to his lips.
As he let himself sink into sweet thoughts and put them on his face, the shutter would click before he knew it.
Is it the other way around this time?
After offering his cheek to Seohan, Suhyeon looked at him quietly once they’d separated.
The affection in Seohan’s gaze was so much like Hochan’s that Suhyeon couldn’t help but let his lips curl into a bashful smile.
“All right, let’s stop here. Good work, everyone.”
“Thank you for your hard work!”
“Great job!”
“You can come down now.”
After a few short instructions, Jihoon, who had kept his fingers moving, finally ended the shoot.
Everyone had been exhausted for a while, with the schedule continuing without a break after the 30-minute rest.
But the faces exchanging farewells were bright and cheerful.
“Suhyeon, good job.”
“Thank you, Seohan-hyung!”
“Did something change for you during the break earlier?”
“What’s a ‘change’?”
“Hmm… Your mood? Thoughts? Like, feeling good or bad.”
“I just wanted to work harder!”
When Suhyeon feigned innocence with energy, Seohan smiled, his eyes crinkling gently.
“You did really well today. Even when we did plays, there was hardly any power struggle… It’s always fun being with you.”
“I like you too, hyung!”
Suhyeon tried hard to calm his pounding heart.
They were close now, but Seohan had once been his role model and was still a senior actor he respected.
It wasn’t easy to stay composed when someone like that praised him so openly.
“Lee Seohan, thank you for your work today. I think the photos came out great. The calendar will be produced in mid-October. I have to go abroad soon, so things are a bit rushed.”
“Yes, understood.”
“And Suhyeon, come with your manager and follow me for a bit.”
“Okaaay…”
Called in for a private meeting again, Suhyeon headed to Jihoon’s private room a little nervous.
The private room in a corner of the studio was just a space divided by flimsy walls, as if only meant to separate it from the rest.
“Hi, have something to drink. You must be tired. Here you go.”
“Thank you, hyung!”
“You really did well today. Your aura was shining so much, my hands were itching…”
“Kangho? I didn’t call Suhyeon in here for you to chat. Where are your manners?”
“H-ha ha…… I was just being polite while handing over the drink, sunbae. Haha… Well then…”
Kangho, who had been chatting excitedly, left the private room with an awkward smile.
A brief silence fell over the room with just the three of us left.
“The reason I called you and your manager in separately isn’t for anything odd.”
“Yes.”
“Out of the photos we took today, there’s one I want to submit to a photo exhibition instead of the calendar.”
“A photo exhibition…?”
“The association’s been making a fuss, so I ended up doing it. Actually, my trip abroad is mostly for that… But since I liked this photo, what can I do?”
Jihoon’s tone was still calm.
He didn’t sound regretful or use any flowery language, even though he was the one asking for a favor.
But Suhyeon liked that about him.
It feels sincere somehow. He must really like it!
Someone who was usually sarcastic even in formal speech was now acknowledging him.
Suhyeon was delighted by that, and happy that it would result in an exhibition.
“But you said earlier you didn’t like it, so I’m not sure if it’s okay for my photo to be displayed there…”
Suhyeon fluttered his eyelashes and spoke in a pitiful voice.
It was a silent protest caused by Jihoon’s earlier criticism.
It also meant, “After putting me down like that, are you going to act shameless now?”
“…”
Whether he picked up on Suhyeon’s intent or not, Jihoon’s eyebrow twitched.
The child looked dejected, the two adults kept silent, and the private room was chilly.
* * *
“I just provoked you a bit because you’re an interesting subject. If you weren’t attractive, I wouldn’t have called you in.”
Having wrung a not-quite-apology out of Jihoon, Suhyeon left the studio with a light step.
Feeling like he’d gotten one over the annoying, bearded ajeossi, he hummed a tune.
My skills improved, I put that stuck-up ajeossi in his place, and I got a bonus. Today’s a good day.
Since being the subject of the photo exhibition was outside the calendar modeling job, an additional contract was made for it.
It wasn’t a huge sum, but as unearned income, it felt pretty righteous.
“Oh. Suhyeon, you look happy.”
As Suhyeon was heading to the parking lot, a familiar voice made him stop in his tracks.
He turned his head toward the direction of the voice.
A man in sunglasses and a face mask was waving at him.
“Hey, long time no see, right?”
“…Chaemin-hyung?”
Suhyeon blinked, surprised by the unexpected person.
The person he’d only kept in touch with by text since Promise of the Blue Summer was now standing before him.
“It was supposed to be a surprise, but you really look shocked.”
“Hyung, it’s been a while. Are you not working these days?”
After glancing around, Suhyeon approached him.
He was curious why someone he’d only exchanged greetings with had suddenly shown up.
“Oh, work. Actually, I came today because of that.”
“Oh, did you decide on your next project?”
“No. Something even more important came up.”
Chaemin took off his sunglasses and smiled leisurely.
His languid smile was just like Alice’s Cheshire Cat.
“Become my comrade.”
And then he dropped a catchphrase that was way past its prime.
