being a photographer in korea, it has been pretty common for you to take promotional photoshoots for kpop idols. so it doesn't really seem to faze you anymore on who these idols are and their looks. however, this one shoot for one of your favorite g...
Staring at my phone screen, the glowing text of my notes app almost mocking me, I scan through the list of errands I've been putting off. I should've done most of these earlier in the week, but being friends with Stray Kids, days tend to slip away unnoticed. Between spontaneous outings and last-minute photoshoots, it's no wonder my to-do list feels endless.
At least I've had a small break from work, from editing and the relentless clicking of the camera shutter. It feels like breathing after being underwater for too long. I don't have any appointments yet, but I know better than to get comfortable. Work always creeps up when I least expect it, like a shadow looming just out of sight.
I glance back at my list, thankful that everything I need to do is in the same plaza. Still, it'll take some serious arm strength and patience to lug all this back to the car. I could text one of the boys or ask a staff member to tag along, but no. Today feels like a solo kind of day. I need it. The quiet, the space to think.
• • • • • • •
Walking through the plaza with my hoodie up and mask securely in place, I weave through the bustling crowd. It's a delicate game of dodging recognition. Though the frenzy around me has died down a bit, there are still those lingering stares, whispers, or the occasional hate comment that slips into my DMs. I've learned to live with it. To ignore the noise.
I'm about halfway through my list when I step into the private doctor's office. The sterile air hits me as I approach the front desk, tapping my fingers lightly on the counter as I wait for the receptionist. I'm here to pick up my prescription—pills for my anxiety and depression. Changbin has been a rock, always making sure I keep up with my meds, checking in on me even when I don't ask. His quiet, unspoken care has become part of my routine, grounding me.
A light tap on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. I turn, offering a polite smile out of habit, though it's half-hidden under my mask. "Hm?" I ask, assuming it's just someone with a quick question.
"Excuse me, do you know where the restroom is?" Her voice is soft, kind.
I lower my mask slightly and nod. "Oh, no problem. Just keep walking down the hallway, it's to the left." I bow slightly out of respect; she seems older than me.
She bows slightly, her eyes widening as if something about me caught her off guard. Did I say something strange? Maybe I accidentally spoke in English? The thought barely settles before my stomach flips.
A group of people—all in dark clothing—suddenly surround me. Before I can process it, bright flashes of light burst in my face, the harshness blinding me. I recoil, instinctively raising my hand to block the onslaught of cameras.
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