Unnoticed      

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"How have your classes been going?" my mother began as she slid me a plate of eggs.

"I'm really looking forward to this semester," I beamed, "I finally got around to changing my major."

"You WHAT!?!?" she slammed her hands onto the countertop of the island, "Why? You were passing all of your classes! You were to be a lawyer! Photography is not a career: it's a hobby!"

In attempt to avoid the inevitble arguement, I crammed the full egg into my mouth, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as I rushed out the door.  With the dawn of a new semester, I had dropped the majority of my classes.  The study of law and trigonomerty wasn't exactly what I had planned for my life.  I aspired to be a photographer.  Until now, I had been enrolled into photography as an extra-charicular because according to my mother "it isn't a wise career path", but now it is my main class along with grapic design and fianacil mathmatics (hopefully that class will appease my mother).

"Aish!" my mom followed me onto the porch, "With a job in photography you will be sleeping on my couch at age 40!  Your father didn't earn such a nice house with a job like that.  He became a lawyer!  You just hope that you marry a lawyer!"  She emphasized her vexation with the flailing of her arms over her head, as if she were shooing me.  Fortunately, it was then that Hye Mi rolled her car to hault infront of my house.

"Sorry, Mom," I shrugged, "I gotta get to school. Bye!"  I waved to her as I latched the car door shut.

"What was that about?" Hye Mi smiled hesitantly.

"She's happy that I'm following my dreams," I rolled my eyes, my voice etched in blatant sarcasm.

"Did you tell her that you changed your major?"

"I did..." I twisted my lips, "That's kinda why she's upset."

"Oh," she nodded, starting down the road.

 

We arrived to school a bit earlier than usual.  Students were still congregated in the courtyard, waiting for their first class to begin.  Hye Mi and I leisurely strolled down the concrete path toward the main entrance of the building.  I stared at my feet as we walked.

"Look, your boyfriend," Hye Mi nudged me with her elbow and gestured toward the front doors.

"I have a boyfriend?" I glanced up eagerly to see none other than Kim Jongdae sitting a top the brick ledge beside the stairs at the entrance in the distance, his backpack at his side.  "Oh," I chuckled, "Right."

I kept my gaze on him.  He smiled brightly as he turned to face one of his friends.  The way the morning light complimented him made his beaming even more radiant.  I adjusted the camera strapped around my neck to focus on his pure beauty.  Perhaps taking pictures of him without his consent was just a bit creepy, but how could you expect me to resist?

It's quite poetic, actually, once you consider it.  There is so much in one second: too much to ever possibly remember or describe.  In a photograph, beauty is concealed in time.  Every detail of that precise moment, captured in an image and kept to cherish forever.

I watched gleefully as he and his friend entered the school.

"You're such a stalker," Hye Mi mocked me, breaking me from my daze of admiration toward the photo of Jongdae now on my camera.

"I'm not a stalker," I protested, "It's not like I follow him around all day to take pictures.  I simply snap a photo whenever he happens to be around.  And besides, stalkers follow people home.  I don't do that."

"You would if you knew where he lived."

I stopped in my tracks, my mouth agape, but she continued forward as if she hadn't just insulted me.  Tightening my grip around the straps of my backpack, I ambled to her side.

"Would it really be that hard to say hello to the guy?" she suggested as we stepped through the front doors of our university, "He's human too, you know."

"He's better than any human I've ever met."

"Then why do you refuse to talk to him?" she pressed.

"Because he's so perfect!" I let out an exasperated sigh, "He's never even glanced my way...He just doesn't notice me."

"Then we'll make him notice you," a cunning smirk played at the corner of her lips.  I recognized the ominous glint in her eyes, and I knew that the only thing that could possibly result from anything she had to say was trouble.

"No," I spoke sternly, "No. No, no, no ,no."

"Just listen!" she pleaded.  I quickened my step, not giving Hye Mi the opportunity to persuade me into taking part in another one of her mischievious schemes.

"Come on, Jae Min," she met my pace.

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," she feigned innocence.

"Yet, somehow, I already know it's bad."

"But Jae Min~" she whined as if she were four.

"I'll talk to you later, Hye Mi," I waved goodbye to her as I rounded the corner.

Room 112, first door on the right.  Now that I quit my other classes, I was able to devote more time to photography, my true calling.  In the creative arts wing of my university, photography was incontrovertibly the least funded or cared for.  While the theatre students were accommodated with props and a stage, and the musicians with instruements, the photography students were given a classroom the size of an outhouse and had to purchase our own supplies.

I greeted Mr.Yong with the bow of my head as I took my usual seat at the end of the single row of desks.  Mr. Yong sat at his desk in the corner of the room, his feet propped on the desktop as he reclined in his chair, his hands resting behind his head.  He was rather yound for a college proffessor; typically, I envisioned them as elderly, bearded men, but Mr. Yong was still in his prime with cleanly groomed facial hair along his upper-lip and chin.

"Hello, class," he stood at the front of the room when the other ten students arrived, "Today, I'd like you to follow me down the hall.  We'll be working in collaboration with the creative writing class."

While some kids groaned and reluctantly obeyed, I was eager for the assignment.  Hye Mi was in the writing class, and I was excited to work with her.  Upon arriving, I sat beside Hye Mi and Mr. Yong explained to us the project.

"What does photography mean to you?" he began his lesson.

"An easy elective?" someone snickered.

"No," I scrunched my nose at their response, "To me, photography is more than just a hobby."

"Oh, Jae Min," Mr. Yong sighed, "I was like you when I was younger.  I had aspirations.  I was going to open my own photography studio and earn a living for me and my bride-to-be.  But, before you know it, your fiance is leaving you because you're not making money, and you're left with no other choice but to accept a job teaching some lazy twenty-something year olds how to work a camera and a gaping, empty whole in your heart where all those hopes and dreams once were.  And your mother is all 'you should have become a doctor like your brother', and you know she's right because now you're 32 and still unmarried an-"

His rambling was met with blank stares.  Clearing his throat and adjusting his tie, he regained his composure from his previous state of madness.  "Anyyways," he continued, "a photograph tells a story.  You must work with your partner to form a narrative from a collection of photographs.  It's due Friday...carry on..."

"Well," I said, turning to Hye Mi, "Now that we've heard Mr. Yong's life story, let's discuss the assignment."

"Oh I have much more interesting things to discuss with you," she steepled her fingers and cocked a brow.

"Do you not understand the meaning of the word no?"

"Jae Min," she persisted, "Please just listen, and then you can tell me whether or not you think it's a good idea."

"Fine," I grudgingly confined, "Go on..."

"Okay," she grinned, "So, after hours of meticulous consideration-"

"It's been like five minutes."

"Hush. After hours of meticulous consideration," she started once more, "I've created a flawless plan to make Jongdae love you."  She spread her hands as if to say Ta-dah with a wide smile.

"Hye Mi-"

"I'm not done talking yet," she silenced me, "My plan: Okay, so maybe you're not exactly his type.  Maybe you need to just change up your look a bit."

"No, Hye Mi, I-"

"If he sees you dressed nicely for once, he may just look at you."

"Hye Mi!" I exclaimed, "Of course I want Jongdae to like me, but I'm perfectly fine living with the constant  pain of a broken heart and the knowledge that he will never love me.  Seriously."

She stared at me with raised eye brows.  

"And what do you mean 'dressed nicely for once'?" I looked down at my clothing.  It wasn't runway fashion by any means, but I liked it.  I tugged at the hem of my knit blue sweater, "What's wrong with what I wear?"

She twisted her lips, "I mean it's cute and all, but you look like a loser.  No offense."

"You think that's why he doesn't notice me?" I thought the large sweater looked rather nice over my collared blouse and blue jeans...

"Don't get me wrong," she quickly added, "You're, like, really pretty.  It's just, perhaps he likes more feminine girls.  You know, mini skirts, high heel, and all that jazz."

"You mean like you?"

She flipped her loosely curled hair over her shoulder. "Come on, Jae Min," she begged of me, "Just let me give you a makeover?  What could go wrong?"

"I guess a little wardrobe change can't hurt..." I considered her suggestion hesitantly, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose.  And with an optimistic smile, I chimed, "Yeah, okay, let's do it!"

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Author's note:

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Hello~  I sincerely apologize for not updating this chapter.  For the past few months, I've had some technical difficulties and today I finally had the chance to get some work done.  Also, I think I should tell you, this story isn't my top priority; it's just a little free writing for me to do when I'm bored.  I'm manly working on a story of mine titled Torn, which also has been updated for the past few months..hehehe...(^u^')...Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and please anticipate the following.  Hopefully, I'll be able to update more frequently.   

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