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Kim Taehyung.

"Today is a beautiful day," I thought to myself and stared at the cup of coffee on my desk. I have this habit in where I make coffee but I won't drink it. Maybe I'm addicted to the scent.

I checked my photo album that I created for her. I can't wait to see her again, but sadly they don't have any schedules these days.

As i was about to get up, my phone rang. The strange thing is that it's from an unknown number. I'm pretty sure I didn't give my number to anyone except for my schoolmates and family.

Maybe this number is just pranking me? Or maybe he/she simply dialed the wrong number? I decided to answer it because why not? I wouldn't loose anything right? I hope so.

"Hello, are you @glimpseofanangel on Twitter? This is Blackpink's manager by the way. I saw the way you photograph our dearest chichoo. YG likes your works, would you mind working for us? if it's not a bother? And don't worry, we pay a really big salary." The voice from the other line said.

I was beyond shocked. I couldn't describe what I was feeling. I felt happy, excited, nervous, and anxious at the same time. I'm happy because I get to work as Blackpink's photographer. I'm nervous because maybe they will realize that I'm not as good as what they think. And I'm anxious because what if this is just a scam?

"Yes, I'm @glimpseofanangel! I accept your offer. When will I start working?" I nervously replied.

"Well, it's just simple. You need to photograph Blackpink daily for an update on their individual Instagram accounts. Is it okay if you will start working tomorrow?"

"Sure, but where's the location in where i will shoot with them?" I replied.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, meet me at YG's main building at 8:30 AM."

"Okay. Thank you for the offer!" I happily said.

She finally hung up and I couldn't believe it. It haven't sunk in my mind that I will finally be Blackpink's photographer and that I can see her everyday. I will have photoshoot with her even when I'm told not to do so. When it comes to her, there is no such thing as rules.

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