Chasing Our Time | BWS FF

Chapter 2: A Perfect Angle

Woonho POV

Music: Cover Me by Stray Kids

The smell of newly painted white floors fill the air as I adjust the lighting. The stark white background, a canvas for my vision, contrasted sharply with the vibrant energy of the models. I have been hired by Hyunjin, a friend of mine and a fashion mogul known for his avant garde designs, to capture the essence of his latest collection.

The first model, a statuesque beauty with piercing blue eyes, steps into the frame. Her long, flowing dress, a masterpiece of intricate lace and silk, swirled around her as she posed. My camera, a sleek, high-tech marvel, positioned and ready.

"A little more to the left," I instruct, my voice a gentle whisper. "And, tilt your head slightly."

The model obliged, her expression shifting from serene to enigmatic. I click the shitter, capturing the fleeting moment.

As I review the image on the large monitor, a satisfied smile spreads across my face. The lighting is perfect, the composition flawless. But, her eyes, filled with mysterious allure, brought the image to life.

The next model, a petite figure, exuded a raw and edgy energy. Clad in a leather jacket and ripped jeans, she strikes a pose that is both defiant and vulnerable. I, always drawn to the unconventional, is immediately captivated.

"Let's try this," I suggest. "Lean against the wall, and let your body speak."

The model nods, her eyes flashing with a mischievous glint. As I move, my camera follows, capturing every nuance of their expression. The resulting image is a power statement, a celebration of individuality and self-expression.

As the day continues on, I capture more photographs, each shot a testament to my skill and creativity. I have a knack for finding the perfect angle, the ideal lighting, and the most flattering pose. But, I think what sets me apart from the rest, is my ability to connect with my subjects. I can coax out their inner beauty, their hidden strengths, and translate them into stunning visual stories.

"Woonho, I think we can take a break." A familiar voice erupts from behind me.

Looking back, I find Hyunjin walking in the studio with two iced coffees in hand.

Smiling, I tell the model she can take a break and set the camera down on the floor.

"Took you too long." I say as I take the coffee and sit on the director's chair.

He sits beside me and plants his back firmly before speaking. "You know, you are killing me with this."

I look at him shocked. "What did I do now?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed anything since you came in through those doors." He says, his eyes piercing through mine like I'm supposed to understand what he means.

Shrugging, I take a long sip of coffee.

"Everyone here is drooling at the sight of you. Even my models can't function well when you're looking at them that way."

"What way?" I ask, completely lost. "I have to look at them to do my job."

He rolls his eyes before sipping his coffee. "But, Woonho, you cannot hide this from me."

Turning to me, he looks closer.

"What do you want, Hyunjin?" I ask, annoyed at how close he is.

"Your eyes." He says. "They're red again and those circles around your eyes are not going anywhere. Is it the same dream?"

Taking a deep breath, I look down at the coffee cup in my hand. I watch as a drop of water rolls down the side and lands on my hand. I lick my bottom lip in hopes that he changes the subject. But, knowing Hyunjin, he doesn't let anything slide. His attention to detail is unparalleled.

"It is, isn't it?"

Nodding, I don't look at him. "It is."

"What is happening to you?"

"I really don't know. It's always the same thing. I'm at the train station and my heart is heavy. Someone stands in front of me, her voice echoing but I can't see her face; it's blurry. She's crying and calling out my name but I can't hear the rest of her statement. All I see is a red bar on her chest, kinda like the one we used to wear in school – the name tag. I've never not seen anything in a clear slate before. I mean, I've been holding cameras ever since I was young. This is what I'm good at. But, for some reason, I can't see this. I can't see her. And then, just as everything starts to be a little clearer, I wake up and my heart is pounding and I'm crying."

"Shouldn't you go see someone for this?"

I shake off the heavy feeling in my chest and stand up. "Why, so they can tell me to take medications and make me sleep and all? I'd rather do this."

He lets out a defeated breath before I walk to my camera.

"Let's begin."