This is a love story that started with one photograph. And it started long before the people involved had met. The photo that spun the events into existence had been taken in the mid 1990s. The main subject matter was a woman petite in body but large in Texas hair. It was blonde and bits of it sparkled from the sun shining from behind her. Her smile was almost as bright as the bits of highlight as she stared at the camera, lifted in a laugh you could just hear at the edge of your memory. She was posed in the instinctual pose that all mothers seemed to know, a baby tucked against her jutted out hip with their face turned away from the camera. The baby would never enjoy being the subject of the camera but loved being behind it.

The edges of the photo were rough and there was a distinct line down the middle where it had been folded and tucked in a wallet for many years. It had been forgotten about by most except the one who carried it, pulling it out when they were alone so they could relive the memory that it had captured. The memory of hope and love and endless possibilities that poured from the fragile paper. To the carrier, it felt like he had to save the emotions it carried. That if he opened it too often, it would all pour out and be empty. That he wouldn’t be able to go back for more. And then he would have to say goodbye for good.

Calista Jenkins first remembered seeing the photo when she had been about eight years old. Her father had been sitting in his large leather recliner, a mist of pain hovering across his face. She had told him she was going to play in her room but her tummy hurt and she wanted to cuddle and have him make her feel better with one of his tight bear hugs. She plodded down the stairs and turned the corner to see him there, looking at the photo and tears lightly falling on his face. Concern immediately came over her and she dropped her stuffed Rabbit and ran to her father, jumping so hard against him that she almost knocked both of them over as the chair rocked violently.

“Cal,” The middle-aged many said with an umph as she pressed herself against him. “What’s wrong darling?”

“What’s wrong Daddy? Why are you crying?” Her own tears had started to fall along with his and she pressed her scrunched up face against his soft t-shirt.

“Oh, baby girl.” The man wrapped his arms around his daughter, his life, and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong with Daddy. I was just thinking about something and it made me a bit sad.”

“Were you thinking about Mommy,” Calista had asked, looking up with large brown eyes that were speckled with green? An odd combination but it fit the little girl’s personality perfectly. Simple and clear with hints of mischievousness in them.

Her father nodded and kissed the top of her forehead. “Yeah,” he said with a wisp of a voice carried by a memory. “I was. I was thinking about how happy she looked when she held you. You were her favorite thing in the world.”

Calista had already learned in her short life that her mother was a difficult topic for her father. They had been childhood sweethearts who had married the day she had turned eighteen. Neither set of parents had agreed with the union so they had not been invited and had actually not been part of the couple’s life since. They had moved a few Texas towns over and bought a small white house with a broken fence in the front and an apple tree in the back. They were happy even in the middle of loss because they had each other.

Only four months after the wedding, she had told him that she was pregnant. Although both shaking on the inside, excitement was greater than the trepidation and they prepared for their baby girl like any other set of expectant parents would do. A nursery with a theme of Winnie the Pooh was made with what money they could scrape together. Weekly photos were taken to measure the progress of the baby’s growth. A bag was packed and left by the door for when it was needed to be taken on a dash to the hospital. All the things were ready for the arrival of what would be the piece of family they wanted after they had walked away from their own.

The day came and they were all excited. The birth was boringly uneventful but joyous. The proud parents huddled quietly together on the hospital bed with their new baby, cooing at how she had such silky dark hair from her father and lips that looked like the palest pink bows from her mother. A sense of expectation hovered in their room. They had their future now and they just had to run towards it.

But it wasn’t going to last. It started with some shortness of breath. Then some dizziness. It was slow and the mother put it down to caring for her new baby. But then she couldn’t get herself out of bed. And showering became a chore. A visit to the doctor confirmed the worst news they had all suspected but not released to the world. On the day before their baby’s first birthday, the C-word was breathed into existence, and joy was taken away with it.

The photo was taken the next day. Makeup hid the sunken eyes. A long-sleeved shirt covered the thin arms. A brief burst of energy had made the photo possible but after being taken, she had to sit down immediately and the few friends there immediately came to her side and made sure she was okay.

The mother fought for six more months. It was like she was in a race to make it to when her baby would remember her existence as more than just something in the ether. She wanted her to have a physical presence in her heart. But she hadn’t made it. The pain became too bad and she was confined to her bed. The father was so focused on his vanishing wife that he almost forgot about the baby reaching for him as he walked by her crib or her high chair. And one night, as baby Calista had been sleeping soundly in her crib, her mother had left her. And for the people who knew him, they knew a part of him had left with her.

But after holding his now gone wife for a few more moments, he stood up and walked into the nursery that held their precious gift. He slid his hand across her now full head of dark hair and promised her that he would make up for what had unknowingly lost. He would never let her know the pain he now felt. And as he looked at the photo in a frame by her crib, that one taken on Calista’s birthday, he took it out of the frame and carefully placed it into his wallet. He tucked one love away and let the other become his existence. Except for those moments he needed to pull out the photo. When he needed to submerge himself in a memory that could never be taken away.

Calista twisted the long strand of honey brown hair around her index finger absentmindedly, her entire focus on the screen in front of her. Images of a beautiful bride and handsome groom graced the screen, their smiles brilliant against the backdrop of the lush garden where the photos were taken. She didn’t do many weddings anymore but the couple had been a friend of her boss and she had been asked for specifically. The couple had wanted an edgier feel to the photos and had seen her work when they had visited the office one day to pick out a photographer. Hak Sung-Ho had placed several of her works on the walls of the reception of the office of his small agency and they had been drawn to her style of minimalist shots with one clear focus. When she had started working for Sung-Ho two years earlier, weddings had been her bread and butter but after he had visited her small apartment to pick up a USB for a client, he had seen her personal photos of her home streets of Seoul on the wall and raved about them. A few weeks later, he had called her and asked if she would be willing to sell one in particular to a client who was looking for a piece for their office. She had been surprised by the request but a new lens had just caught her eye and the price he was telling her would have bought two of them. That had been one year ago,

Since then, she had done fewer weddings and more of her own work. Sung-Ho had encouraged her to explore her creativity and it had resulted in a growth in her career that neither had foreseen. She now mainly worked on magazine shoots with the occasional personal request peppered in.

The photo was exactly her style. While the bride was in white, the groom in black and the background was green and vibrant, it had her touch. It was slightly off-center and the background seemed to be swallowing the couple as they held each other tightly. The eye went directly to the faces hesitating before kissing, their lips slightly parted and their eyes locked on the other’s. It was as if they were sinking in to a private space that was growing around them. Like they had been caught in a moment that no one else should be witnessing.

That was what brought Calista joy in photography. The day she had seen her father holding the photo in his trembling hands, she had connected emotion with the images captured on thin glossy paper. She had understood that every photo was a memory of a time that could never be erased. It was proof of the existence of the people or things recorded. Without that proof, who could say what existed beyond that fraction of a second.

She was in the middle of making a slight change to the green in the foliage around the couple when she heard her phone vibrate beside her. It caused her to jump and almost spill the cup of now cool tea that was sitting on the desk beside her. She made one more click with her mouse and picked her phone up from where it sat beside her and looked at the screen.

“Hey, you got a few minutes to talk?”

The text was for Sung-Ho. It was eleven o’clock on a Monday night and both of them should be in bed but neither of them were good at shutting themselves down at the end of the day. She slid open her phone and went into her texts, quickly typing out a response.

“Sure, just working on some edits from the wedding you guilted me into.”

A smirk emoji was the reply before her phone rang and his number came across the screen. She hit the accept button and put the phone on the desk, the earbud she had been wearing to listen to some music off of her computer taking over the sound.

“Hey Calista,” he said with his thick and dark voice. Her few acquaintances had commented on how attractive the man was. His thick dark hair, chiseled jaw, slim waist. All of it was what any person would probably say was what would make them have an at just the thought of being touched by his perfection. But to Calista, he was her boss. He was the man who paid her bills while believing in her talent. While she registered his attractiveness, it did nothing for her. Her feelings were more like an encouraging brother than a desperate lover.

“Hey Sung-Ho,” she said, trying to not sound tired. She had started to hate the few wedding shoots she was doing. This one had been better as the couple had wanted her to use all of her creativity for the shots. But for most of them, it was pretty cookie cutter. He knew this and so he only asked for her to do them when he had very specific reasons. “You should be in bed. Don’t you have that big meeting tomorrow with that super secret client that you won’t tell anyone about?”

A snort came through the phone and Calista pictured his perfect nose crinkling as he chuckled. “Actually, it got moved to today as the client had to change some plans.”

“Oh.” Calista spent little time physically in the office now so it wasn’t strange she hadn’t heard the news. Her photography took her across South Korea and she did most of her editing at home. She could play the music she liked, eat the snacks she craved, and edit in her comfy but not office appropriate pink slippers.

The office had been buzzing for several weeks about the meeting. Sung-Ho had only said it was for a possible new big client and that he would share more details if he was able to close the deal. Ae-Cha, the office receptionist and gossip central, had tried to find out who it was but their boss had held it close and the name had never slipped past his lips.

“Actually, you came up during the discussion.”

Sung-Ho let that sit on her lap without further elaboration as he waited for Calista to ask. She tried not to give him the pleasure but after only a few seconds, she couldn’t hold it in. Patience would be her ruin her father had told her many times.

“And what was the topic of this discussion?” She cringed as he hoped it wasn’t another wedding. She thought for a second she might quit if it was but knew she wouldn’t. She paid her bills doing what she loved and had a boss who gave her freedom to explore. She wasn’t leaving.

“Well, that client I was talking about saw your work in the office when he came in and asked about it. Your aesthetic attracted another fan.” Sung-Ho paused. He loved holding on to details everyone else wanted to know. Another reason Calista felt no attraction to the man. “It seems that me putting that artwork up is your best advertisement.”

“That’s great. What’s the shoot?” Calista instantly pulled up her calendar. She knew that Sung-Ho could see her professional schedule for bookings so he wouldn’t have even called her if she was already doing something. “I have some free time in a few weeks. We could probably fit it in then as long as it is only a couple of days.”

Another chuckle and Calista pictured him winking at her if she would have been sitting across from her at his large glass desk in his office.

“You have no idea what I am about to offer you. A couple of days won’t cover this shoot.” She heard a rustling as he changed the position of the phone against his ear. “Now, before I give you all the details, you need to understand just how big this opportunity is. It is truly life-changing. As in my little agency will be a speck once you’re done with this. Just don’t forget me when you are in demand for the next ten years.”

Calista was curious now and the slight touches of green she had been trying to perfect were forgotten as she sat up perfectly straight in her chair. Sung-Ho was not one to exaggerate these types of things.

She had already had many ‘life-changing’ events over the last few years. The death of her mother had not even made the top ten most days. Her father had passed away just over three years ago from cancer as well. She had watched him die, thinking that he must have completed the same vigils for her mother that she had while he wasted away. After his death, she attempted to reach out to his remaining family but was clearly rebuffed. To them, she was just the reincarnation of the woman who had stolen away their twenty-year-old son. A friend from high school had commented about the money they were going to be making by teaching english in South Korea, and with her father’s medical bills being carried on her back, her desire to get out of the small Texas town she had grown up in caused her to quickly decide to do the same. She had arrived in the summer of 2015 and had been quickly hired by a local school. She hated it but Sung-Ho was one of the parents of a little boy who attended and she had begun a small and innocent friendship with him. Maybe he liked the fact that she didn’t fawn over the hot divorced guy like the rest of them did, although she heard them talking behind her back about how everyone thought it was more. One day, they had struck up a conversation about him owning a photography agency and she had expressed her passion for the medium. She had shown him a few pictures she had taken of the children around the school and had thought that would be the end of it. But a month later, he called her saying that a photographer had called in sick for a wedding and he had nobody to cover it as it was the day of the nuptials. Would she like to do it? She didn’t really have confidence in her skills but the money he offered was a nugget she could put towards the darn medical bills. She had accepted it as a one-time thing.

But the couple had loved the photos. They had raved to Sung-Ho and he offered her a job. She finished her contract at the school, shooting weddings on the weekends, before leaving the teacher life and working for the agency full time.

And now she was here. With this mysterious client that she knew Sung-Ho was loving lording over her.

“Sung-Ho, you better tell me what this is about or I’m going to buy Joon-Won the biggest bag of candy I can find before leaving him alone with you.” Joon-Won was his now nine-year-old son. He was a sweet boy but could not handle an ounce of sugar before he was bouncing off the walls.

“Alright,” Sung-Ho said with a quick voice. He knew Calista’s threat was not empty. “The client I met with needs someone to travel with them for at least six months. The locations will be international and the schedule will be intense. They are going to be wanting to release a documentary style book after the job.”

Curiosity was now ripping at Calista. “Six months? As in, traveling for six months? Outside of Seoul for six months?” She tried to think who this client would be but she couldn’t imagine who would need those requirements. “Who would this be for? You better spill the goods now.”

“Remember, life-changing. And before you say that you can’t do this job, I wouldn’t have put my name behind you when he saw your work if I didn’t think you could blow it out of the water.” His usual languid voice became serious in nature. “You would not only be putting your name out there but mine and the agency’s as well. This is going to be huge.”

“Okay.” Calista felt herself leaning forward in her own chair. “Who is it?”

“Just promise me you won’t say no without letting me try to convince you. Promise?”

Calista felt like she was walking into a trap but her desire to know the big secret pushed her forward with a might she could physically feel. “Okay.”

A pause. As if he himself had to prepare to say the words. And then when he said them, Calista nearly fell out of her chair.

“You would be the traveling photographer for the band BTS on their world tour from the end of August until at least April. And the person who I was meeting with and personally requested speaking to you about it is Kim Namjoon, the leader of the group.”