Chapter Text
It actually started out as a joke; or at least Jinyoung likes to delude himself into thinking that it had.
It was at the end of Jinyoung’s junior year of college that his seedling of fear sprouted into a full grown flower. He should have gone to medical school. His parents, as much as it pained him to admit, were probably right. Photography was a dead career path. Jinyoung’s portfolio had been sent back three times in the last month and with each return envelope grew another flower until eventually his mind was blanketed in a field of pastels and self-doubt.
“Your work is good, Jinyoung.” Jaebum, his best friend for as long as his prepubescent mind could remember, repeated the words like a mantra with each slice of thin envelope. “They don’t know what they’re passing up on.”
Jinyoung hates it; the way Jaebum’s eyes glaze over when he tries to reassure him. It’s almost like Jaebum is on auto-pilot. Jinyoung hates it. He knows that the older is genuine in his words; that he truly believes Jinyoung’s pictures are good, better than even. It’s just- how many times can someone say something before their tongue becomes raw? Jinyoung doesn’t blame him for it. But he hates it anyways.
“Easy for you to say, you’re basically a published writer.” Jinyoung groans into the wooden table.
“I was published in the college newspaper, Jinyoung. Everyone gets published in the school newspaper.” Jinyoung can practically hear Jaebum’s eyes roll from the kitchen of their shared loft.
“Well then everyone is much more successful than I am.”
“Eat your breakfast.” Jaebum sets a plate of eggs and toast in front of him and in the midst of his wallowing; he hadn’t realized how hungry he really was. The plate of food was gone within a minute and for that minute everything seemed like it would be ok again. Just for that minute though.
“Your eggs taste like fucking magic.” Jinyoung swallows the remaining crumbs down and sighs into his cup as he remembers the third rejection letter he’d gotten that month. Not that he was counting, or had a box full of them under his bed that he rereads on nights when he feels especially self-destructive.
As if he could read his mind; “Your pictures are amazing, Jinyoungie,” Jaebum pauses, waiting for Jinyoung to stop trying to burn actual holes into the letter, to which Jinyoung obliged. “I’ve seen your work; I’ve seen you practically fall asleep while holding a bottle of developer in your hand because you think an image loses beauty if you don’t develop it right away. The love you pour into your portfolio, someone is going to see that someday.”
Jinyoung sometimes wishes that Jaebum was always on auto-pilot. Stupid English majors.
“Stupid English majors,” Jinyoung grumbles as a sign of thank you and compliance.
“Why do you even want to work for a fashion magazine anyways?” Jaebum raises an eyebrow as he scans Jinyoung’s chosen train wreck attire of the day; baggy capri pants and a baggy, slightly stained, black t-shirt.
Jinyoung feels his eyes roll before he even registers his roommate’s rude commentary. “First of all, this is comfy, and second of all, it pays well. I need to save up to start my own studio someday.”
“You could always follow an idol around. I hear fansites make a lot of side cash if their pictures are good,” Jinyoung waits for the punchline he knows is to come, “and no one is better at appreciating the male body than you, Jinyoungie.” There it is.
Jaebum lets out a grunt as his chair is knocked over, knocking him flat on his back in the process.
“Whoops.”
And thus, another seedling sprouted in the field of lilies Jinyoung had fertilized, a different flower yet to be named; this one not the product of a self-loathing 18 year old who could barely afford a used DSLR camera but instead of an equally self-loathing 21 year old desperate for confirmation. It wouldn't be until one month later that Jinyoung came across a flyer of a new idol group performing at their school's end of the year fling, and it wouldn't be for another two months that Jinyoung gets the website, Mark My Heart, fully operational and ready for donations.