DAY 1

The fine, light rain that falls from a clear sky at sunset or in the early hours at night; evening serenity, it is that surrounding of calmness that Sehun needs, an acknowledgment, a boost of his spirit, a sign that he needs to go outside and capture whatever he feels looks alluring enough to be enclosed in the grids of his photography for the world to admire.

He takes a step outside the dusty apartment, hands on the bare concrete wall. Cold, that's what he could translate from the surface. He takes out his camera, and starts walking.

The ground is muddy from all the rain, his feet fiddling in the puddles, it's almost reaching sunset, but not yet dark.

He takes a glance to his left, a couple feeding a flock of pigeons, the guy's arms wrapping tightly around the girl's waist, resting his head on her shoulder while she pinches off small breadcrumbs for the birds.

He keeps on walking.

He glances up, the sky paints a cotton candy pink, a fading purple complimenting it. He smirks, eyes tracing the depths of the clouds.

Sehun looks down again, he did find the sky magnificent, but not enough for him to capture it, there's something missing, he's not quite sure what, but there is not enough beauty in anything he sees these days.

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, it is true, because no matter how wonderful the sky looks, he could not portray of what he feels, because he could not sense of what he feels.

So he takes another step towards the centre of the Yulgora Park with hope that there is something. Even the smallest of things, anything, he's in desperate need.

It is undeniable that paying off his bills only of his photography blog is a hard thing to do. It seems easy, you snap, you post, then you get the money. He thought it was that easy, too, but as time passes by, he realizes that nothing in life is easy, that's just the way the cookie crumbles.

Another step forward, he steps on the grass, leaves crumbling underneath his feet, his gaze stops under a tree, on a bench, towards a guy.

Of course, Sehun has no idea who the guy is, but his features are captivating. It's not because he's good looking, which he is, but it's the subtle way he flips his book, his glasses perfectly placed, and the way he smirks at every page he flips. He's attracted to it.

Sehun's hand grabs the camera hanging from his shoulders, placing it carefully in his palms. He adjusts the lens, and clicks.

This is the beauty he's been searching for. The right mixture of fascinating and mysterious. It is what he's been looking.

He decides to go back the next day.

 

DAY 8

It has been a week since Sehun captured the young man in his camera. He even sees a pattern from it carved into his daily routine. Wake up, have breakfast, update his blog, have lunch, continue his work, take his camera and go to the park. The guy would still be there, in his classy coat, still reading, and is still fascinating as always.

By this duration, his photograph sells are increasing, drastically. Buyers are pulling in, for newspapers and articles, even covers of books, it made Sehun feel spirited to continue again.

One thing for sure is, he is getting curious on who this mystery man is. Sure, it is kind of creepy to take pictures of a man without his consent, but to his defends, the guy doesn’t know.

Is that a defends?

Whatever it is, one day, he will expose his work to him, with hopes that he will not get a scolding or any fines to pay.

 

DAY 10

“Sehun, it’s been 4 months now,” the owner of the apartment says, hands tapping the right wall in between Sehun’s hallway. A man in his 50s, with beard that has been shaved poorly, probably by himself, his trousers looks at least 20 years old and his forehead wrinkling just a little.

Sehun plays with the buttons on his camera, he tries to feel guilty, because he is guilty for not paying his rent, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off the piece of kimchi in the man’s beard.

“So?” the man asks the question calmly. He’s a good man, Sehun knows from his gestures, he’s just doing his job because he feeds of the money from the apartment, just like what Sehun does from taking pictures.

“I will, by the end of the month, I will pay it all,” Sehun stares back, nervously.

The man nods and gives out a forceful smile, making his way outside, his steps are more slow than what Sehun remembered from a month ago, when he also tried to collect the rent.

Sehun promised the old man that he will pay, and he will make sure that he won’t break it.

At least not for the 5^th time.

 

DAY 16

“It’s been long,” Jongin showcases a smirk towards Sehun, his hands cupping a cup of coffee. He looks down to the wooden table with flower patterns carefully engraved around it, and takes a sip of his coffee, “how have you been?”

It’s not that Sehun is uncomfortable with Jongin, it’s just the way Jongin sits, professionally, the way his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose and the small notepad he always keeps in his pocket or placed in his hands. He’s intriguing. Also, his breath smells like coffee most of the time. Sehun is more of a, bubble tea guy.

“It’s really interesting, your pictures, you used to take really boring ones, sorry to say. This series, however, is very,”

“Bland?”, Sehun said, sarcastically.

“Daydreaming,” Jongin blurts, “you know me, Sehun, I don’t say things unless I mean it, so I mean it, and trust me when I say this. Your photographs are, wonderful,”

“You know that kind of wonderful, when you see your partner clumsily eat their ice cream, and a dot of it is left on their nose, so you just laugh at how silly they are, and even at the silliest matter they do, you still find it amazingly attractive so you just pause for a moment and admire their features and realise that you really, really do love them. Yes, that wonderful.”

Sehun freezes in place, he did not expect Jongin to say that. He has always viewed Jongin as this strict author, passionate about only one thing, his writing.

“So, Mr Oh Sehun the great photographer, can I have one of your pictures for the cover of my genius novel?”

 

DAY 17

Sehun wonders, what even is he doing? He is there, hiding behind a tree, secretly taking pictures of a man he doesn’t know.

Huh, creepy.

He continues snapping.

 

DAY 18

“Why do I feel like I know this guy?”, someone posted on the comment section in one of Sehun’s blogpost, under the photograph of the mystery guy in the fancy coat. He becomes curious, and is very scared of the consequences. So Sehun did what any wise man will do,

He drags the cursor, clicks on the guy’s profile, and blocks him.

 

DAY 19

He unblocks the guy, it was really hard for him to do this, but after a drunken night with Jongin giving him phrases from Shakespeare that doesn’t seem to have any correlation with the topic they first came to talk about, after long lectures from Jongin saying that,

“You should only contact me if you’re dying and giving all your money to me, or you have a story worthy of my genius writing, little things like this Sehun-ah, you should be able to use your brain.”

So, Sehun unblocks the guy, he takes in a deep breath as his long fingers quickly typing,

“Do you really know who he is?”, secretly wishing that he doesn’t. It’ll take the mystery out of the man, and probably Sehun to the title ‘stalker’.

 

DAY 20

Several replies later, nothing, nothing was answered.

The guy just told Sehun he looks familiar, maybe from a textbook, but that’s just bonkers, why would the mysterious man be seen in a textbook.

 

DAY 22

His coat is perfectly blended with the season, it’s fascinating. He zooms in, snapping details of the man, from his feet, and how the colour of his shoes matches with the leaves on the ground,

He takes pictures of his hands, flicking the pages of the book.

He takes pictures of his hair up, the hat placed comfortably on his head, and how it also blends with the trees in the background.

He zooms in a little bit more, capturing his eyes’ and how its focused on the alphabets on the papers. His eyelashes are long, and it curled up just a little, just enough.

Sehun zooms back out, taking a glance outside of the camera lens. He smiles at the sight, and clicks.

 

DAY 23

He made a promise yesterday to himself, that he won’t look at the pictures. Let it bundle up, so he can only go with the perfect ones. Although he knows it is nearly impossible to find a flaw in the pictures of the guy, but he’s sure there are.

Maybe it tilted a bit to the left, but there must be a flaw.

 

DAY 24

Okay, Sehun lied. At 12:30 a.m last night, he walked to the 24 hours printing shop 20 minutes away from his apartment, just for this one picture. The guy looked at his camera. He stared at it. He looked wonderful. Sehun had to print it out, he had to, just this one.

He kept it in the second pocket in his wallet. Safe and sound.

 

DAY 28

He didn’t look at the pictures, he assumes that there must be at least a hundred of them bundled up in his memory card right now, but that doesn’t matter.

 

DAY 29

He’s not there. The guy is not there. For once, he is not there. Sehun is confused. Of course, the guy must have a normal life and he might be busy today and did not show up to his usual place, but it feels odd. It feels, empty, and somehow, it makes Sehun feel a little worried.

Sehun waits, maybe he is just a bit late. Maybe he’s doing his taxes, or visiting a friend, or is buying grocery at the supermarket downtown, or he feels that it’s quite chilly and decides to stay home.

Yeah, maybe, maybe.

 

DAY 36

He’s not there still. Sehun doesn’t give up though, there’s still hope that he’ll show up tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. He won’t look at the pictures yet, he might be able to take more tomorrow.

 

DAY 40

Sehun lets out a sigh, he lets go of his camera, letting it dangle from his neck itself, he places his hands in the pockets of his sweater.

He takes slow steps towards the fountain, staring at the empty bench where the guy usually sits. By this point, he’s convinced that the guy saw him and was creeped out, so he never came back.

“Please come back,” Sehun whispers to himself, “I just want to say sorry.”

He makes his way towards the bench, standing beside it, just staring blankly at the wooden structure. His eyes follow the lines of the wood, stopping at some words engraved on it, ‘C+J’, ‘I love you forever, A’, he smirks at the words, probably written by some young lovers. Innocent young minds. He takes a sit where the man usually does. Sehun looks down to the ground, playing with the tiny stones, kicking it around.

He glances to his side, on the armrest, tracing his eyes along it and his fingers under it, then he stops. His hand feels a cold surface, with words carved on it. Sehun squats down to see what he felt. A metal plate, a rusty metal plate, screwed into the wood under the armrest, inscribed with a name,

“Byun Baekhyun, aspiring journalist, brave soldier, founder of Yulgora Park.

1930-2010”

Sehun stares at the name. It feels as if he knows who this Byun Baekhyun is, but obviously, he doesn’t. But does he?

He takes out his phone from the pocket of his sweater, his fingers quickly typing the name Byun Baekhyun on the search bar.

And there he is. It’s him. It is really him. Sehun doesn’t know what to feel. He is in shock; he is at loss of words. He could not translate this context.

“So, he’s not,” Sehun murmurs under his cold breath, “alive?’

He pulls out his wallet, reaching his fingers towards the second pocket, taking out the photograph he drove 20 minutes to have it printed. His hands are trembling, he’s afraid, but curious. He’s confused, but somehow knows of the answer.

He glances at the picture, his heart stops.

“What? Wait, how, when? Oh lord what? Oh my God, holy, what?”, the photograph slips out of his hands, Sehun’s shivering. Not from the cold anymore, but from the photograph.

The mystery male, he’s

smiling, at Sehun.

Byun Baekhyun is staring at Sehun’s camera, smiling. It wasn’t before, but now it is.

 

DAY 41

The puzzle fits, not in the way that Sehun wants it to fit, but it somehow fits. He’s confused, but the answers are all there. He dials a number.

“Hey Jongin,” he smirks,

“I think I have a story worthy of your genius writing.”