Being a college girl in Seoul, especially one majoring in photography, was not something to boast about in this city. It wasn't a career that screams "financially stable" or "scholastic". Not that you really care about what people think. You were a smart girl back in high-school, not book smart, but bright and an extremely fast learner. With your top grades in the majority of subjects, many expected you to enroll into prestigious universities like SNU or KU; so the news that you got into an Art College in London was shockingly unpleasant to your family. Even though it came with a scholarship offer waving at their faces; they did not crack a smile at your decision. It was ironic considering both of your parents were professors in those top universities, teaching physics and math, and their only daughter disappeared abroad for 3 years to study "photographs". 

Now, you were back in your own country, and it felt so empty, as you simply grew out of your attachment to Seoul. You missed London and it's beautiful and bizarre city-window display; the city where everyone knows what brand you were wearing, where the streets become fashion runways. Seoul seemed to isolate you, making you stick out like a sore thumb to; your old high school friends all moved on with their life, dating and having attachments elsewhere, whereas you were still buried in a pile of work. With your degree, it wasn't surprising that you ended up with a secure job at one of Korea's top magazine, but spending days taking pictures of models bored you to death, having to watch and edit their pouty and expressionless face over and over again. 

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Nam Joon was walking down the street, feeling drowsy and frustrated from lack of sleep. He just finished recording his part inside the studio and his escape to the park turned out to be not as relaxing as he thought. The damp atmosphere wasn't doing any good to his mood.

SNAP

Undoubtedly the sound of a camera, and Nam Joon was in no mood for paparazzi snapping photos of him, especially when he was VERY aware of the dark circles combining with his obvious eye-bags on his face. He turned to see a girl whose face was hidden behind her camera, a beanie on her head with her lens pointing straight at his direction.

"Hey you! Who gave you the right to take photos of me? Delete it now."

Nam Joon made furious paces over to the girl, his face twisted in frustration. 

Your head snapped up in amusement and annoyance as a tall boy stalked towards you. Nam Joon felt his throat tighten and his breath was caught in his throat. Since when were paparazzi hired to be that beautiful?

'Wae? Do you think I was taking a photo of you? You self-centered prat, I was taking photos of the view. I am a PHOTOGRAPHER."

He blinked, registering that you just called him a prat and scowled.

"Where's your proof that you didn't take a photo of me?"

"What are you? A celebrity?"

He hesitated. Then, he realized that you were not a fan of BTS, since you didn't recognise him, but then again he was still an idol, and should be cautious anyhow, what if you were just pretending to him?

"I am nobody."

She scoffed and practically shoved the camera to his face.

"Here; I was actually taking photos of the tree for christ sake."

His first instinct was to roll his eyes at the lame excuse, but was rendered speechless by the photos as he flicked through the camera. They were so beautiful and artistic and soulful that it made him gape. She's a photographer alright...

"These are amazing!"

He couldn't help but exclaimed, even though he was still bitter about the fact that you called him a 'prat'.

You gave him a shy smile

He gulped, your sweetness had taken over your prickly demeanor, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"You're sure you don't know me?"

He said before he realized how stupid and conceit that sounded, and winced when you scoffed at him.

"Are you that narcissistic you think EVERYONE knows who you are? And judging from that question, I'll make a shrewd assumption that you are a celebrity?"

You gave him a smirk and he laughed, hardly believing that you just insulted him and used the word "shrewd" in your sentence at the same time. It was the first time that he wanted someone to knew who he was, because you seemed so unimpressed by him that he was triggered to prove to you otherwise. He made sure to give you a full blast of his dimples as he asked you if you knew who BTS was.

"BTS, oh I heard they are tremendously popular these days, but I am not a fan of K-Pop, I did listen to some of the songs though, and I liked it a lot. I take it that you are a member?"

Your answers always ended with a question, and you found yourself conversing with Rap-monster of BTS (the name received a few giggles from you and glares from him) in the most natural way possible. He was much much happier than he was when he set foot to the park. Suddenly, the annoyingly bright orange of the leaves and the wet pathway didn't bother him at all, as he was so captivated with you. He snorted when he stared down at your skipping feet, your sneakers were different color, one red, the other black.  

"Were you in a rush?"

You smiled when you realized he was talking about your shoes.

"No."

Unnerved by your short answer, he pressed on.

"Why are they-"

"Different color? I