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Some things really don’t change.
You thought to yourself as you watched Dowoon playfully smirk at the camera a few seconds before the concert started. Everyone in the hall were squealing over that small gesture. Of course, including you.
You knew that smirk all too well. It always does things to your heart even when you were still in high school. Back then, you were the only one on the receiving end, but now, he’s freely giving it out to everyone.
You sighed as you picked your camera up and started taking shots of him. It came to the point when their music has been drowned out by the camera shutters around you. But it doesn’t matter. You could always listen to their songs but those glorious pictures of them won’t shoot themselves, won’t they? Someone has to do it.
Way back high school, he was the only one who was brave enough to befriend you. Is ‘brave’ really the term for that? Or maybe ‘unbothered’ would define it better.
You were the class president that time, not because your classmates think you were qualified, but because they think you were the easiest person to push to that role. Ice queen… Teacher’s pet… that’s what they called you. And you couldn’t really care less. You were there to learn. Not to make friends anyway.
Until one day, he got transferred to your class, and you were designated to ‘take care’ of him as the class president. Your teacher seated him beside you and he just slouched on that seat all through your classes, unbothered.
Until one day, he decided to talk to you.
“You like taking pictures, huh?” he muttered one day when he noticed you finding the perfect angle to take a shot of your new pen and notebook. He just woke up from his short nap, ones he usually take during lunch breaks. He sleepily faced you, with his head lazily resting on his arm atop his desk.
You threw him a quick glance before going back to your task at hand. “This is literally the first time you’re talking to me out of free will,” you muttered.
He smirked, “You should be honored.”
“Huh.” You mumbled, refusing to prolong the conversation. You were pretty sure he’d just become like all your other classmates. He’d find you boring and awkward and not worthy of being his friend. We should just keep it civil.
“Why don’t you take a picture of me? I’m sure that’d be more interesting.” He said after a few seconds of silence.
You turned to him with a raised brow, “I don’t like interesting.”
He laughed at your remark. “Sometimes, I wonder why they’re so afraid of you, but now I understand.”
“I don’t need friends,” you coldly muttered, going back to your phone to resume your interrupted project.
He smirked again before he suddenly took your phone and raised it above his head, reverting the camera to the front. He took a shot of his adorably cute smile next to your surprised, annoyed face. He laughed as he gave your phone back, you glaring at him. “There. Isn’t this more interesting?”
From then on, it was as if he made it his life mission to get a reaction from you every day. Annoyed. Mad. Surprised. “Anything that proves you’re not entirely made of ice,” he said, laughing at your glares. It doesn’t work on him anymore. You could no longer scare him away. It was fueling him even.
You’ve resigned yourself to letting him do what he wants. Few more months ‘til graduation, anyway. You let him be.
Until one day, he decided to give you a flower he said he hastily picked from his mother’s garden. “I hurriedly cut that so that my mom won’t see me but I got pricked.” He held his finger up, a cute bandaid around it. This time, you couldn’t help but smile as you shook your head.
“A smile! HAHA! That’s a first!” He exclaimed.
You bit your lip and tried to control your expression, but he was too happy… like a kid who got what he wanted on Christmas. It made you feel warm as you looked at him giggling. “Thank you.”
He masked his laughter in fake coughs, his ears turned red upon hearing your words. “That’s a first,” he repeated.
As summer neared, your days got better with Dowoon and his crazy antics. You look forward to it every day. You found yourself smiling a bit more every day. He became your favorite subject to capture. Stolen shots of him just doing what he always does. Sometimes, he’d catch you taking pictures of him and he’d just smirk at you through your camera.
Until one day, he wasn’t there. Your teacher announced he’s dropped out of school. You heard from his friends that his family has suddenly moved out of their house. There was no trace of him whatsoever.
It got cold again. You reverted back to the old you. Days, months, years passed. You found yourself living your old boring, awkward life.
Until one day, you saw him again on TV. He was this drummer for an up and coming band who’s making waves in the industry. He’s not the same Dowoon, yet he’s the same Dowoon.
You decided to watch their concert and just like that, you were reminded of how warm your days were when he was there. You started following them around to all their schedules and events, a camera on hand, to capture things that are interesting. To capture him. To capture that feeling again.
You realized his pictures are too good to be kept to yourself, so you decided to post it online. A lot of his fans loved that. And you gained a lot of followers who appreciated each and every picture of him. It made you feel alive, like you live with a purpose now.
You’d always try to find a perfect spot, armed with your heavy duty camera, you’d start clicking again, looking at him through your lens. He would always be dashing, as usual. And you’ve always been content watching him from afar.
Until one day, he decided to look your way. Your camera perfectly captured that moment—him looking at you with a smile as he played with his drums. You were pretty sure he didn’t recognize you but of course, your heart secretly wishes for him to… if that isn’t too much to ask.
These instances became frequent though, that people has also started to notice how your shots are different from all others’. Him somehow always finding your camera amidst anyone else’s. Him playfully smirking like he knows it’s you. Him making your heart flutter like he does with all his other fans, of course. You kept your hopes down to protect yourself.
Until one day, you received a personal message from him on your account.
“It’s you, isn’t it? I found you.”