Lost in your lens - NewJeans' Minji x M!Reader

Ch. 8 - The Night of the Exhibition

The walk to Songmi Gallery felt both too long and too short. Minji was uncharacteristically quiet beside me, her camera hanging unopened at her side. She'd dressed up a bit - a simple cream sweater and dark skirt that made her look softer somehow, more vulnerable than when she was hiding behind her lens.

"What if nobody comes?" she whispered as we approached the gallery's warm lights. Then, even quieter: "What if everyone comes?"

I wanted to reach for her hand but settled for bumping her shoulder gently with mine. "Then they'll all see what I've been seeing through your photos all semester."

She looked at me then, a question in her eyes that made my heart skip, but before either of us could say anything more, a familiar screech cut through the evening air.

"THEY'RE HERE!"

Hyein bounded down the gallery steps, nearly tackling us both. She was dressed formally except for her mismatched socks - a tribute to my first-day fashion disaster that made Minji laugh despite her nerves.

"Everything's perfect," Hyein assured us, linking arms with Minji. "Haerin's been arranging flowers for an HOUR, Danielle stress-baked enough for a small army, and Hanni's done a final lighting check three times."

Inside, the gallery had transformed. The festival photos created a narrative flow through the main space, catching moments of campus life that felt both familiar and new through Minji's lens. Fairy lights created a soft glow that reminded me of autumn evenings and shared walks home.

"These are..." Professor Kim was already there, studying a series of performance shots. "Extraordinary, Minji-ssi. The way you've captured not just the events, but the feeling of them."

More people began arriving - students from photography club, arts faculty, curious passersby drawn in by the growing buzz. I watched Minji slowly relax as person after person stopped to really look at her work, to see what she saw.

"The transition pieces are particularly strong," I overheard someone say, and smiled, remembering track 7 of her playlist, the song she'd chosen so carefully for this section.

Haerin appeared silently at my side, offering a glass of something sparkly. "The special exhibition is through there," she said softly, nodding toward a smaller room off the main gallery. "She's been working on it separately. No one's seen it yet."

My heart did something complicated, remembering the hidden folder. "What's in there?"

"You'll see," she smiled, then drifted away to rescue Danielle's latest batch of stress-baked goods from Hyein's enthusiastic distribution methods.

I was about to head toward the smaller room when I heard Minji's name being called. A serious-looking man in an expensive suit was asking her about her techniques, her inspirations, her plans for future work. She caught my eye over his shoulder, her expression both thrilled and terrified.

Go, she mouthed, gesturing slightly toward the side room. Tell me what you think?

The separate exhibition space was darker, more intimate. As my eyes adjusted, I realized what I was seeing - a story told in photographs, my story, our story, but not the private moments from the hidden folder. These were different shots, equally personal but meant to be shared.

The first was the café window, empty except for golden afternoon light - the spot where we'd eventually meet. Then came the festival preparations, crowds of students but somehow always with a space that seemed to be waiting for someone. Study sessions with an empty chair just visible at the edge of the frame. The café again, but this time with people, with life, with belonging.