If Myungsoo weighs it up, he thinks he’s got life quite nicely sorted these days. He lives in a flat with a housemate whom he hardly sees during the week and who keeps the place clean and tidy. Nice. His flat is comfortable and warm and looks out over a street-market and a park beyond. Noisy and, during the summer, the smell of the fishmongers drifted up to him on the fifth floor, but still pretty nice. He’s made a few good friends since he moved into the city yet, when he’s feeling low, a 40 minute train ride takes him back to the area he grew up in. He can go wallow in his childhood bedroom, re-reading manhwa and eating his mum’s stew. Good times. Very nice.

Additionally, there’s that thing so few people can say, Myungsoo really likes his job. He works as a photographer at a magazine aimed at teenage girls. The magazine has good relations with a couple of entertainment companies in particular, so he spends much of his time photographing their idols for pictorials. He wondered if he’d be able for it at first, landscapes were more his thing. However, seeing the same idols again and again has turned out to be a good thing. He’s got to know them over the months and to like most of them. He knows what sort of ideas and themes to suggest and how to bring out the best sides of the idols. His overall confidence grows every time one of his ideas is acted upon. Seriously nice. Yes, Myungsoo’s work environment is good. It’s a much better situation than he ever expected to be in by his mid-twenties.

There is, nevertheless, a tiny problem. So tiny it’s not even a problem. Not really. More like a fissure – a crack that has appeared in Myungsoo’s bubble of contentment. Myungsoo is sure that, if he ignores it, it’ll go away. It won’t get any bigger and will eventually just disappears. So Myungsoo’s truly trying his best to ignore this little fissure. If only it were less noisy.

“Hyung?! Hyung~! Gyu-hyung! They said you were here!”

“Bracing for impact,” Myungsoo hears Sunggyu mutter seconds before a sort of human limpet attaches itself to the columnist. Sunggyu writes a column about up-and-coming groups. He and Myungsoo were waiting for hair & make-up to be done with their latest subjects. The limpet – currently detaching himself and going in for a bro-fist – is Lee Sungyeol, an actor. Sungyeol’s being pushed heavily by his company this year, so he’s in their magazine in some form or other just about every month. Sungyeol and Sunggyu picked up a rapport from god knows where. Sunggyu likes the actor, although he frequently acts like he doesn’t. Sungyeol seems to think Sunggyu’s cool, even though he pokes fun at him. Sungyeol doesn’t think Myungsoo’s cool. Sungyeol doesn’t think much of Myungsoo at all. Except, possibly, ‘oh, it’s that knob with the camera.’

In fact, noticing Myungsoo’s presence, Sungyeol’s eyebrows shoot up. For a moment, his mouth turns down in a frown. Then, like the well-trained idol-actor he is, his pretty smile re-appears, a shade more forced this time, and he casually shifts his position enough that his back is facing Myungsoo. The photographer tsks. It’s not as though he cares that Sungyeol dislikes him – probably lots of people dislike him. It’s just why does he have to be so obvious about it? Myungsoo didn’t do anything to him. They had a couple of shoots over the past year, but not for ages. So Sungyeol must dislike him – as in, something intrinsic to Myungsoo’s being, something like the very vibration of Myungsoo’s atoms fills Sungyeol with… with… dislike.

Leaving the two to their deep discussion about cider, Myungsoo shuffles away to quadruple check his equipment. Sungyeol’s loud laughter follows him as he goes. That’s Sungyeol – loud, obnoxious, not even that handsome. The dislike is mutual. That’s why Myungsoo knows he ought to ignore that tiny, inconsequential fissure.

Now if his mind could just stop picking at it.

They met almost a year ago on a mild February morning. Sungyeol had just become the youngest member on a variety show. The interview about it had already been conducted, so it was just Sungyeol, Myungsoo, Sungyeol’s manager and one hair and make-up girl, Yein, dispatched to take some ‘fresh and natural’ shots at a local park. The stylist had dressed the actor (and now variety star) in a chunky argyle jumper – much too warm for the unusually mellow weather they were having – and a pair of uncommonly tight, pale blue jeans. On the short drive to their shoot location, Myungsoo couldn’t help but notice Sungyeol fidgeting with his clothes – tugging the jumper away from his slender neck, wiping his palms on his thighs and picking at the taut material that clung to his long legs.

“Is it OK? The outfit. We can do something about it if it’s really a problem,” Myungsoo finally enquired once he realised they were almost at their destination. Sungyeol turned to him, emitting a strange sort of squeak when he saw how Myungsoo was leaning into his personal space. He whips his head away making his long-ish black hair flutter at his nape and the spicy smell of his shampoo hit Myungsoo’s nose.

“It’s fine. Besides, I’m a professional,” he replied curtly. Myungsoo just nodded assent. He didn’t understand the behaviour, but idols could be odd creatures. At the time, he’s even speculated that Sungyeol might like him and be shy. Of course, now he understands that that notion had been the epitome of stupid, as was made evident throughout the rest of the shoot.

They began taking pictures at an ornate fountain in the middle of the park. Trees dusted with fresh, spring green leaves in the background, bright sunlight bathing Sungyeol’s face as he looked up at the sky. Beautiful. A cloud of starlings took off together and Sungyeol broke into a boyish grin. Unknowingly, Myungsoo got closer, wanting to capture the actor’s face. Sungyeol’s body was good, tall and slim, but his face was the really attractive part of him. Expressive features. Soft lips. Eyes that shone – they practically sparkled Myungsoo couldn’t stop taking photos.

Until a realisation crept up on him. Sungyeol’s eyes weren’t quite so bright anymore and the smile on those soft lips had turned decidedly stiff. Sungyeol’s shoulders had hunched and his aura overall said, ‘get the hell away from me.’ Myungsoo suddenly noticed that he’d gotten closer than he’d really meant to – than matched with their concept really. As he tried to casually shuffle backwards to a more polite distance, he couldn’t help but spot Sungyeol’s posture visibly relax. His large eyes even seemed brighter again, now that Myungsoo wasn’t in his space.

Myungsoo blamed himself. It was only the two of them. They’d never worked together before. Of course it was his job to make the atmosphere warm, yet he’d gone and done the exact opposite. Clearing his throat awkwardly and lifting his camera back up, Myungsoo figured his best try some small talk. . He wasn’t especially good at small talk (that is to say, he was and is awful at it) but he just needed to land on a topic that would get Sungyeol chatty and relaxed.

Sungyeol, unfortunately, was having none of it. His answers were constantly monosyllabic. Sometimes it seemed like he wanted to say more, but he’d cut himself off, returning to that tight silence. The stiffness in his shoulders reappeared intermittently and always needed only Myungsoo moving away to dissipate again. Eventually, Myungsoo had exhausted all his usual topics and gotten nowhere. As he had enough acceptable photos for the magazine, they called it a day and returned to the van where Sungyeol’s manager was fast asleep and Yein was watching anime on her phone.

Stifling a deep sigh, Myungsoo sat back and started flicking through the photos he’d taken. Maybe it was just Sungyeol’s character, he consoled himself. Maybe the actor was simply that silent and aloof with everyone. That theory lasted a matter of minutes. As soon as Sungyeol noticed what anime Yein was watching, they were in an excited and voluble discussion about it. Then, almost the moment they’d parked back at the office, Sungyeol caught sight of one of his hoobae, Lee Sungjong, and yelled out to him across the car park. . They smiled, hugged, teased… Sungyeol ruffled the younger idol’s hair at one point. Myungsoo had looked on with mild displeasure. ‘Aloof?’ he scoffed, ‘Silent?! Yeah, right.’

That was how Myungsoo had begun to realise that, for whatever reason, Lee Sungyeol couldn’t stand him. And fair enough, not everyone has to like him. So Myungsoo does his level best not to think about the matter. He doesn’t think about it while snapping pictures of Nam Woohyun and his band, Hysterie. It doesn’t cross his mind while Sunggyu’s doing individual interviews and Myungsoo can overhear his colleague and the front man flirting shamelessly. It most certainly does not tear at his nerves later when they’re clearing up and Sunggyu announces that he’s going to see if Sungyeol’s still around for a chat.

“Cancel your plans for tonight,” Sunggyu instructs when he returns after a little while.

“I don’t have any,” Myungsoo answers with a smile, not lifting his head from where he’s organising his equipment. This is true, he’s plotting a glorious evening of ramyun and rewatching Nobuta wo Produce.

“Perfect. You’re coming drinking with us.”

That makes Myungsoo look up, ‘Nonononono…’

“Us?”