Pasadena, California - April 12th, 2014

The sun beat down on the grass. Excited fans holding poster cardboards arriving hours before the concert. Fangirls at every corner and merchandise being sold. This was nothing new. 

Her platform boots smacked down against the cement.  She walked with her head held down against the rays of the sun, holding her camera bag stuffed with two massive telephoto lens, showing her badge against security. The way she held herself, she appeared more important than the average photographer, with their huge Jansport backpacks, baseball caps, and tennis shoes. 

She got a drink from the lemonade stand and sat down in the front row seats. People were finally filling in. She checked her camera's settings and flipped open her iPhone, scrolling through Twitter uninterested. It was nice to be back at home, after traveling so far abroad. Her skin no longer radiated the natural California tan, instead it was milky pale, almost as pale as Kpop stars, something she would've killed for in her teenage years. Now it was just a nuisance, adding bronzer whenever she went out. 

She stood up and claimed her spot to the left of the stage, surrounded by a multitude of obsessed fans and fellow photographers. It was kind of annoying, being here, she thought as she removed her cat eye sunglasses. She started having doubts if it was even worth it to come after all. The pay wasn't worth much, and he might not remember her. Lost in her thoughts for the first quarter of the concert, she finally snapped back to consciousness when Taecyeon from 2PM, announced CNBLUE. 

Her heart raced. It raced in the way it hadn't raced for years, as she heard the familiar beats of Intuition. She remembered those beats, those drums, especially. 

Looking through her viewfinder, she focused on Kang Min Hyuk, the drummer. She hadn't seen him for three years, not since CNBLUE's albums made the top hits in Japan and Korea, not since she was hired by entertainment companies to manage publicity and advertising. His baby fat in his cheeks were lost, his jawline more defined, but something was still the same about him. 

It took her 200 frames of continuous shooting to realize it. Her, behind her camera and laptop screen. Him, behind the recording microphone and his drumsets. His passion was the same, as was the day they met 6 years ago.