Wheein wants to curse. Ever since their less than professional confrontation in RBU’s storage locker, Moon Byulyi has been everywhere.

There are times when Wheein would see the professor, perpetually clad in a dark, pressed designer suit, in the corner of her eyes while she spoke with her other students. On other days she would spot the photographer lazily taking snapshots of the people and scenery around the university and the nearby landmarks. There had even been one time when the two of them bumped into each other in a crowded hallway, but Wheein had been in a hurry and Moonbyul was being accosted by her fans for them to share anything more than a small smile and a nod.

Despite that, Wheein has to admit that these little reminders of the woman’s existence never fails to make her heart flutter.

“Will you stop being weird and help me with this?”

Wheein’s attention returns to the presence at the sound of Hyejin’s voice. She sees the slightly taller girl standing in front of their dresser, staring intently at it as if it holds the answers to the universe… or at least the key to winning the dorm cleaning contest.

“It’s good where it is,” Wheein says before Hyejin even has a chance to voice her thoughts. Their small dorm room had been cleaned from top to bottom, organised to the tune of Marie Kondo and styled with the help of a surprisingly thick and heavy feng shui book Hyejin managed to nick from the upperclassman who won last year’s competition. Their little abode has never looked better and Wheein has to begrudgingly admit that the management had the right idea with bribing their students to clean in exchange for the possibility of free food. It certainly sparked Hyejin’s incessantly competitive spirit.

“We’re getting that buffet,” Hyejin declares, her voice dripping with finality. Wheein rolls her eyes and audibly whines, but has her hands on one side of the dresser when Hyejin asks for her help to move the heavy furniture three quarters of an inch to the left in compliance with some arbitrary rule.

Wheein drops her hold on the dresser none too gently when Hyejin gives the signal. She groans and shoots a glare at her best friend who has gone back to consulting the book in her hand.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Hyejin mutters before gesturing vaguely to the right side of the room. “Now this is all out of balance. I think we need to move the bed-”

Wheein bolts up and plants a hand on her best friend’s lips before she could continue with her outrageous suggestion. Their bunk bed probably weighs at least five times heavier than the wooden dresser, which left Wheein’s arms feeling like jelly despite having to only move it less than an inch.

“I don’t think the judges will be carrying feng shui books. The room looks clean and that’s all this contest is about.” Wheein offers a shrug as she frees Hyejin’s mouth when it becomes obvious the younger girl would let her say her piece. “Besides, it isn’t a big deal if we lose.”

Hyejin shoots her a dirty look. “That’s blasphemous!”

Wheein ignores her and returns to their recently moved dresser to pick out her hoodie of the day. None of what she has jumps out at her so she opts for a green sweater instead. “I have to head out. Photography is having a short meeting today since Moon-nim is out tomorrow.”

At that, Hyejin’s lips purse. She hesitates as Wheein shrugs on the sweater, but decides she has to come clean to her best friend. She isn’t liking what she’s seeing and she’d do anything to ensure her Wheepup wouldn’t come home crying, never again. “About that-”

Wheein raises a hand as soon as she can, effectively stopping Hyejin’s words. “It’s just class. We already said we’d be professional.” Seeing the frown still on Hyejin’s lips, Wheein shoots her a pout. “Trust me, okay? It’s just class.”

Wheein is out the door before Hyejin can pipe up. Instead, she chooses to plop down on the couch and grab a snack. Maybe she is just overthinking things. Wheein is an adult; she can handle the situation on her own.

Yeah, Hyejin is worried.

-*-*-

Photography’s meeting takes place inside the university’s local cafe, seeing as they don’t really have a set room to settle in that day. Wheein is greeted by the strong smell of brewed coffee and the enthusiastic hellos of her classmates as soon as she steps in. Despite her fumbling through the first day of class, she managed to make friends with some of them in her other subjects throughout the week. She settles down next to a fellow baby-faced girl.

“Lee, hi,” she quips, earning an eye roll from the other girl. It’s a joke Hayi has probably heard a hundred times already, but it won’t stop Wheein from making it. “Have you guys started?”

Hayi shakes her head. “We’re just waiting for Moon-nim now.” Her voice dips lower. “I heard she’ll announce what we’ll be doing for our finals.”

Wheein nods along. Having the finals be a massive project instead of a long examination is a common setup for Arts Department classes, but Wheein can’t help but feel intimidated about the idea of doing the same for her Photography class. For one, she has none of the professional equipment necessary to take the high quality shots she would need to get a high enough grade to keep her scholarship.

Hayi seems to notice this and takes Wheein’s hand in her own, offering a comforting squeeze. It’s at that moment that Byulyi walks in, causing some of the other students to stand and bow in respect. Normally, Byulyi would wave them away, not liking the formality of the action, but now her narrowed eyes are focused on the clasped hands of two of her students.

Wheein doesn’t know why she hurriedly untangles her hand from Hayi’s hold, disguising the move by taking a sip of one of the offered coffee cups. She doesn’t miss the small smile now growing on Byulyi’s lips as she greets her students and accepts her own cup of coffee.

If anybody notices how Byulyi deliberately takes the open spot next to Wheein instead of the numerous other empty seats around the table, no one says anything. Instead, their focus falls on Byulyi pulling out a Polaroid camera and snapping a two quick shots of the barista and the long queue in front of him. She allows the two photos to quickly develop before placing the first one on the table for the class to see. It’s a simple shot, bright and clearly focused on the scene at the counter instead of the hustle and bustle of the cafe. Wheein thinks it’s something she would like to see on her Instagram page if she had one.

“What can you say about this?” Byulyi asks, and the students hesitate before one tentatively raises his hand.

“It pulls you into the barista and what’s in front of him.”

Byulyi nods. “But what does it make you feel?” Wheein stares at the photo. It’s pretty; something she would expect from any decent photographer, but she couldn’t say anything more about it aside from that. A small smile makes its way to Byulyi’s lips as the other students quietly discuss it among themselves, but not coming up with an answer they deem appropriate enough. “This photo is technical. It has the appropriate lighting, focus and angle. It has a subject that draws your eyes, but that’s where it ends. It doesn’t ask any questions. It doesn’t tell a story.”

She places the second shot right next to the first, allowing the two identical photos to be compared and contrasted by curious eyes. Wheein notes the second photo is darker, with the cafe blurring into nothingness. Her eyes are still drawn to the barista, but the shadow created by the line in front of him casts him in a different light. She feels her lips curling into a frown.

“Now, what can you say about this?”

Wheein’s eyes raise to look at the photograph’s subject. She sees him release a heavy sigh. “He’s tired. Everyone’s exhaustion is contagious.” In her peripheral, she spots a few other students nodding in agreement.

“Photography is not just about pretty pictures,” Byulyi says. “It’s about telling a story. And that’s exactly why I met you all today.” At her words, the crowd snaps into attention. “For your finals, you will submit one photo to me that fully captures ‘lacuna’. I want you to use chiaroscuro or any of the other techniques I will teach you throughout the semester to tell a story about what is missing. Is it about the past or the future? Is it something you once had but now lost? Is it an idea so abstract in its form that what’s missing is a way for you to encapsulate it? I want a photo that’s worth a thousand words.” She sits back, taking a sip of her coffee as her students take in their assignment and start formulating plans. “You h