Return of the Genius Photographer

A month had passed since then.

“If I’d known you’d be back so soon, I wouldn’t have sold my game items.”

I was sitting with Yeongho, eating a hamburger at our usual fast-food spot—a perfect place for late-night chats.

“Then, are you going to take back the padded jacket you gave me while crying?”

At my words, Yeongho, seemingly recalling that moment, awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“Hey, I wasn’t crying…”

“Don’t be embarrassed, you punk.”

I chuckled at him and added, “Anyway, I’ll be leaving again soon. There were some minor issues, so I ended up staying in Korea longer than I thought.”

“Ah…”

At the word “issues,” Yeongho nodded as if something came to mind.

“I saw it on the news. Is everything okay now?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t a big deal to begin with, just got blown out of proportion.”

I sipped my cola and answered nonchalantly.

The corruption within the Korean Photographers’ Association that was exposed after my revelations had spread rapidly through the media.

Illegal contracts, exploitation of rookies, retaliation, embezzlement, breach of trust—the list went on.

I wasn’t sure if it was due to the influence of Hansung Group or my agency working behind the scenes, but the association’s misconduct began spilling out one after another.

With the association now in the public eye, they faced relentless criticism in the press.

The scandal had grown so big that even someone like Yeongho, who had no connection to the photography world, had heard about it.

‘It was quite chaotic for a while…’

Reporters from Korean outlets, sensing a major scoop, bombarded us with constant interview requests. It became a hassle for both me and Jung Woong.

‘I turned them all down, though…’

For me, the situation was pretty much over once I handed things off to Hansung Group and my agency. The necessary outcomes had been achieved, and all the extra attention just felt exhausting.

“So when are you leaving?”

“Hmm, in about two weeks?”

“That soon?”

“Yeah.”

I answered briefly.

Even though I’d been dragged into unwanted events this past month, I didn’t stop working.

Regardless of my strained relationship with the association, there were always clients wanting to hire me.

While fulfilling their requests and studying in between, I successfully obtained my GED.

Now, all that was left were the application and portfolio for admission.

These could be done even after moving to the U.S., so there was no reason to stay in Korea any longer.

‘I didn’t save as much as I planned, but I can make up for it while living abroad…’

I currently had about 80 million won.

It was far from my initial target, but there was no need to earn everything in Korea.

Since my agency was based in the U.S., it might even be more efficient to take on work there.

“I see…”

Yeongho seemed reluctant. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice as he absentmindedly messed with his fries.

Goodbyes often felt longer than reunions. For a high school student, who hadn’t experienced many farewells, this might feel a little early.

“So, how have you been?”

I didn’t want to see him sulking, so I changed the subject.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. I’ve been talking about myself all this time. Tell me about you.”

“Hmm…”

Yeongho thought for a moment, sucking on his straw.

As if figuring out how to say it, he soon spoke up, a bit shyly.

“I… actually found a dream.”

“Huh? What is it?”

This was news to me.

Yeongho having a dream? I hadn’t heard of it even in my past life…

“I want to become an actor.”

But instead of being surprised, I felt a sense of pride.

“I know what you’re going to say.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to say, ‘How can someone who looks like you become an actor?’”

I looked at him with admiration, but he seemed to misunderstand and continued explaining.

“There are famous supporting actors, you know. I want to be like them.”

“Since when?”

“Probably since you went abroad? That’s when I started seriously preparing for auditions to apply to schools with theater and film departments.”

Although he had only started recently, I had seen him occasionally pondering his dreams before.

I knew it had taken him a long time to find this dream.

A dream he had carefully nurtured after much thought.

I smiled softly, silently cheering for his dream.

“So, are you going to an academy?”

“Hey, with my family’s situation, how could I afford an academy? My younger sibling works part-time after school and only gets to do what they want on weekends…”

“Really?”

As he shook his head and answered, I thought about it.

‘Yeongho’s family isn’t well-off either… But it’s not easy to prepare for auditions on your own…’

Acting was an art form where talent played a crucial role.

Self-studying would undoubtedly be an uphill battle.

Even if he got into college, it would be difficult to keep up with peers who had trained at academies for years…

And passion could burn out faster than expected.

Having learned photography entirely on my own in my past life, I knew firsthand how challenging it was to master a craft without guidance.

“Yeongho, I’ll support you.”

“Yeah, I’ll work hard, just like you.”

“Then before I leave, let’s take a photo.”

“A photo?”

“Don’t you need a photo for your applications? And having a profile photo might come in handy later.”

“Really? You’re the best!”

“I’ll contact you soon. See you later.”

So.

I decided to prepare a gift for my friend.

***

From that day on, I began visiting acting academies, asking about everything.

Faculty, acceptance rates, practice room availability—anything that could be useful for admissions.

I roamed the academy district like a parent with a child preparing for theater and film school auditions.

‘Since Yeongho is completely new to acting, a curriculum that covers the basics would be best…’

After some searching, I found an academy in Sinsa-dong.

It was large, with a faculty filled with quite famous instructors.

‘It’s good, but the practice room hours are a bit concerning…’

I liked everything else—the curriculum, the acceptance rates—but…

Because it was so popular, the practice rooms were overcrowded, which bothered me.

It would be awkward to use them comfortably, and the hours were limited. It just seemed inconvenient…

Still, among the places I visited, this was the best.

I decided to enroll him here for now.

“Please process the tuition for one year.”

“How many months?”

“Lump sum, please.”

“Huh?”

When I approached the counter and spoke, the staff member’s eyes widened.

“Lump sum?”

They asked again, as if they hadn’t heard correctly.

“Ah, and please include all additional costs like textbooks in the total payment.”

“Ah, yes! Understood! Thank you!”

As I firmly confirmed, the staff member finally accepted my card with both hands and processed the payment.

“May I have the name of the person registering?”

“Please register it under Yeongho, Kim Yeongho.”

I managed to complete the academy registration first.

After leaving the academy, I immediately rented a nearby practice room.

A practice room with mirrors on three walls and a wooden floor.

“I manage this place regularly, so it’s ready for use right now.”

As the landlord said, the place was spotless, which I liked.

It was a bit small, but still larger than the academy’s practice rooms, so it would be perfect for solo practice.

“You’re signing a one-year contract, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Just like with the academy, I paid a year’s rent upfront for the practice room.

“The previous tenants moved to a better practice room because things worked out well for them. This is a really good place.”

“Yes, thank you.”

With both the academy and the practice room set up, this should be enough for Yeongho’s preparation, right?

“Here’s the key.”

“Thank you. Can I stay a bit longer?”

“Of course. Feel free to use it as much as you want.”

After finishing the contract and sending the landlord off, I set up a simple backdrop for photography in the practice room.

‘This should be enough for taking profile photos.’

Though it was just a practice room with a single backdrop, thinking about Yeongho practicing here made me feel proud.

Once everything was ready, I immediately contacted Yeongho and called him over.

Yeongho arrived at the practice room that evening.

***

“Wow, what is this place? It’s amazing…”

Yeongho, who had arrived at the practice room, looked around with a genuinely amazed expression.

“I just rented it. Let’s do the shoot here.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, let’s do it now.”

I smiled at Yeongho and immediately picked up my camera.

Yeongho awkwardly sat in front of the backdrop.

His innocent expression filled the viewfinder.

I carefully pressed the shutter, as if trying to preserve that moment.

―Click.

How happy would he be if he knew this place was a gift for him?

Just thinking about it made me smile.

The shoot didn’t take long.

It was just a simple session for profile and application photos.

It would’ve been strange if it took too long.

“All done. Let’s go.”

As I packed up my camera and prepared to leave, Yeongho spoke with a hint of reluctance.

“But this place is really spacious. It’d be great to practice here…”

He kept looking around, marveling at the room.

To me, the practice room seemed small and lacking, but to Yeongho, it must have felt enormous.

Watching him curiously touch the mirrors, I couldn’t help but chuckle and ask, “Where do you usually practice?”

“Me? Just… at home.”

Yeongho answered, sounding a bit embarrassed.

“I can’t afford an academy, let alone a practice room…”

“Does practicing at home work well for you?”

“I just do what I can.”

“Really? Then take this.”

I casually replied and tossed the keys toward Yeongho.

―Clink!

“Huh? What’s this?”

Yeongho clumsily caught the keys with both hands, looking bewildered.

“The keys to this practice room. I rented it, so you can use it.”

“How long did you rent it for?”

“Hmm, exactly one year.”

“What?”

“It’s yours for a year.”

Yeongho stared at me, dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t process what was happening.

“I’ve already paid the rent for the year, so don’t worry about the cost. Practice here comfortably. I’ll send you the edited photos later, so use them when you need them.”

“Wait, Woojin, what are you…?”

Yeongho finally snapped out of it and tried to ask, but I just shrugged and acted like it was no big deal.

“It’s a thank-you for the padded jacket. Pay me back when you make it big.”

Then, I handed him an envelope.

“And take this too.”

“What’s this…?”

“Open it later when you’re alone. I’m busy, so I’ll head out first.”

“W-Wait…”

***

Yeongho called out to Woojin, but Woojin had already left the practice room.

Outside, it was already dark.

Left alone, Yeongho pinched his cheek.

“Ouch…”

Of course, it wasn’t a dream.

But it still felt unbelievable.

‘This can’t be real…’

A spacious place like this, just for him to practice…

‘It must have cost a fortune.’

As a high school student, Yeongho couldn’t fathom how much it cost to rent a practice room.

But he could tell that his friend had gone out of his way for him.

He hadn’t even asked for help…

Now he felt like he owed Woojin a huge debt.

Along with the joy of having a practice room, a sense of guilt crept into his heart.

‘Ah, the letter…’

But that was short-lived. Yeongho noticed the letter Woojin had handed him at the end.

He had been so overwhelmed that he hadn’t even looked at it until now.

‘What is this that he told me to open when alone?’

The envelope was quite thick.

He reached inside and pulled out its contents…

‘Money?’

Inside was about 1 million won.

And…

A neatly folded letter.

Yeongho’s hands trembled as he carefully began to read.

― Yeongho, I’m writing this because it’s too awkward to say in person. ―

― Honestly, I was really surprised when you told me about your dream. As a friend, I wanted to support you, but I wasn’t sure how. So I prepared this gift. ―

― I’ve already paid for a year’s tuition at the Jeongsimhwa Acting Academy near the practice room. Just go there tomorrow, say your name, and you can start classes right away. ―

The letter was filled with Woojin’s heartfelt thoughts.

The inner feelings of a usually stoic friend…

Yeongho read it slowly, engraving each word in his mind.

― From my experience, passion fades quickly if you’re not in a situation where you can fully focus on your dream. ―

― I don’t want you to go through what I did, so just take this as a gift from a friend. ―

Plop, plop.

Tears fell onto the letter.

“Hic, hic…”

Yeongho tried to hold back his tears, scrunching up his face.

But the tears were already streaming down his cheeks.

How could he put this feeling into words?

In truth, Woojin was the first person Yeongho had told about his dream.

He knew his parents wouldn’t be happy if he brought it up, given their difficult circumstances.

So even when he told Woojin, Yeongho had been hesitant.

Was his dream too much to ask for, considering his situation?

Was he dreaming of something he shouldn’t?

These worries had made Yeongho feel smaller than ever.

But.

But now, for the first time, someone had supported his dream.

And it was his most dependable friend…

― Yeongho, stop rotting away in PC rooms and start rotting in the practice room. ―

— Keep rotting and rotting ―

— Until you become as solid as a cavity ―

“What… is he even saying?”

Yeongho wiped his tears and laughed, shaking his head.

If he cried any more, he felt like Woojin would appear out of nowhere to tease him.

― I’ll always cheer you on ―

― We’re best friends, after all ―

The letter, smudged with tears, felt incredibly warm.