When Ji-hun woke up on Sunday, he stayed under the blanket for a while and listened to the silence in the room.
As he rubbed his eyes, he knew he would not be able to fall asleep again even though his alarm had not gone off yet. It was always like this anyway. He had been having trouble sleeping since his mother died, and he knew he was not getting enough sleep.
The first thing that came to mind was the photography event that day. His mother had once told him, "Whatever is the first thing on your mind when you wake up is probably what matters to you most." The memory drew a sigh from him. He missed her a lot, and sometimes he thought it was strange that she could still teach him things even though she was gone.
He had packed his camera bag the night before and left it beside the door. Yes, like a real professional. Whenever he saw it there in the morning, he started thinking about simple things he might do in the future.
Ji-hun had as much right to dream as anyone else.
For example, he would have a place of his own, and in the morning he would sling the bag over his shoulder as he hugged his father goodbye and left for work. Or he would be standing on the subway with that enormous camera bag hanging from his shoulder, and everyone would be able to tell what he did for a living.
Ji-hun's interest in photography had never had anything to do with his father imagining that kind of future for him. Dong-min had always made it clear that he wanted Ji-hun to be free in his choices and decisions. His late mother being a famous photographer was not the reason either.
For Ji-hun, photography had first been a game. A game he never got bored of. What he photographed did not really matter, nor did it matter whether the subject in front of his camera was alive.
Cats were what he liked photographing most. He knew that. But if he pressed the shutter at the right moment, he could catch other things too. Something that would never happen again could stay in that photograph, even after the moment was already gone. It did not have to be a cat. Even a colorful amusement park could stay completely still in a photograph forever.
Just thinking about it made Ji-hun want the day to begin already.
He washed his face and changed into clean clothes. The club meeting was not until the evening, so he knew he still had plenty of time. There was no reason to hurry, but he kept checking the clock anyway.
Dong-min had been awake for quite a while. As he did every morning, he was waiting for his son to come and wake him.
For him, mornings had been as dark as nights for a long time, and Ji-hun waking him was no different from sunlight. So when Ji-hun entered the room and wrapped his arms around his neck, that was when Dong-min's day began. Still, every morning Dong-min greeted his son with a smile. Whatever darkness had settled over his own world, he did not want it spreading into Ji-hun's.
At the small table by the window, Ji-hun read the morning news aloud from his father's phone while they ate breakfast. Their tea was hot between their hands.
Ji-hun had always liked these mornings because he could ask his father about things he did not understand and learn from him. Those breakfast conversations were probably one of the main reasons Ji-hun knew more than most kids his age and was more cultured than them.
The house used to be noisy. His parents were always rushing around because of deadlines, projects, or sudden trips somewhere. His mother was not sitting at the table anymore. Sometimes Ji-hun thought these breakfasts were one of the things she had left behind.
After breakfast, Ji-hun cleared the table and went back to his room. He looked at the bag beside the door first.
The clock came next, inevitably.
Haah, time just won't pass.
He opened his history book and read a few pages, but he could not really focus on any of it. His mind was somewhere else, so he gave up, tossed the book aside, and looked for something else to do. At first, that was not difficult. He reorganized his closet, moved his desk a little, cleaned the windows while complaining to himself, and kept looking at the bag beside the door.
By early afternoon, Ji-hun could not find anything else to do. He sat on the bed and closed his eyes for a while, but not long after that, Moon Ji-hun came to mind again. It annoyed him.
Why does this guy keep getting into my head so much?
Maybe that was why he decided to leave the house early.
Nothing could distract him as much as photography, and being different from other people his age in that way did not really bother him either. He had understood from a young age that he felt better the moment he had a camera in his hands.
That shoot by the Han River could be his chance to show himself in the club, and he wanted that a lot. He was like anyone passionate enough to want to share with the whole world how much something meant to them.
He wanted to forget everything he had gone through when he was still very young and share the one thing he thought would have meaning for him now or in the future. At the same time, he knew this was also the way to make his father proud and let his mother rest in peace.
—
Ji-hun got on a bus to the Han River, put his bag on his lap, and leaned his head against the window. The ride just wouldn't end, but he knew he'd still get there early.
To kill time until the meetup, he got off at a stop a little ways from where they were meeting. As he started walking through the park, his chest began to feel tight from excitement.
Could Hae-sol have gotten there early too?
The sunlight had already shifted into one of its prettiest colors. Now even the rocks and dirt looked softer and warmer than they actually were. Yeah, golden hour could actually make even some random rock that looked like shit look pretty. What Ji-hun was thinking about, though, was how he could make golden hour look good.
Shin Ho-jin will be there too...
The orange reflections on the river warmed Ji-hun inside and made the water look like liquid gold. The light breeze in the park made Ji-hun's forehead itch whenever his hair, which was not really that long, brushed against it, but it also made him feel alive at that moment. Ji-hun had often had a hard time feeling alive since his mother died.
Will I ever be able to take photos as well as Shin Ho-jin?
The people sitting by the river or walking quickly along it while laughing had all turned into subjects for Ji-hun at that moment, and they looked like they wanted to be frozen in a frame and made permanent.
I could be even better than him.
—
When the Photography Club members started arriving one by one at the meeting place by the river, it was obvious from the way they talked while checking each other's cameras and equipment how excited they all were. Some students checked whether people around them were noticing them and adjusted bag straps that did not need adjusting at all, acting like photographers with forty years of experience who were about to rush to a very important shoot.
Ji-hun was doing none of this when he noticed Hae-sol coming toward him. Everything he needed was already ready, and it could not really be said that he was interested in sharing his excitement with the public. He waved his hand and shouted, "Yaa! Hae-sol! Hae-sol!" Hae-sol started walking toward him faster, and they laughed.
"Did you get here early?" Hae-sol asked with a smile.
Ji-hun laughed too. "What can I do? I couldn't stay home."
While they waited for the others right beside the river, the light quickly became much warmer, and it was at that warm moment that Ji-hun saw Ho-jin a little distance away, laughing with a few students.
Ho-jin was pointing at the river and the buildings on the other side while talking about shadows. He looked so professional and natural while doing it that it seemed as if he had been born to do this.
Ji-hun did not notice that his heart was beating faster than usual while he looked at Ho-jin.
"This sunbae always looks like he's been doing this for a thousand years when he's dealing with photography," Hae-sol said quietly.
Ji-hun did not answer him, but he thought Hae-sol was exaggerating a little. Yes, even though he had just thought the same thing and his heart had started beating faster, he still thought that.
Ho-jin gathered the students around him and moved toward them, speaking a little louder as he explained which angles they should try and how they should take the photos.
Ji-hun was looking at his hands. There was no effort to impress anyone in the way Ho-jin looked at that moment, and there was no attitude of looking down on his hoobaes either. He only wanted to pass on something he clearly knew well to the people in his club.
When everyone had gathered, they split into pairs and small groups and started spreading out along the river. The daylight had become perfect for their compositions, and no one wanted to miss that moment. Their time was limited.
Ji-hun and Hae-sol found a willow tree whose leaves almost touched the water and chose that spot. As sunlight passed through the branches as if scattering stars around them in the middle of the day, Ji-hun started getting his camera ready.
"This place is perfect," Hae-sol said.
Ji-hun nodded, and a short time later, the moment he looked through the viewfinder, everything he wanted to see was there.
The shutter sounds and laughter coming from around them no longer interested him. He was where he wanted to be and where he thought he was supposed to be.
At one point, his eyes caught Ho-jin helping another student, and he felt something strange inside. When Ho-jin bent down, put an arm around the student's shoulder, looked at the screen, and seriously commented on it, Ji-hun realized that it bothered him.
But he did not think about why.
He had no intention of wasting time, so he turned his attention back to the viewfinder and his surroundings. At the same time, he was telling himself that the only reason he suddenly wanted to keep watching Ho-jin was because Ho-jin was a good teacher.
He decided to move a little farther away so he would not keep looking in Ho-jin's direction.