Return of the Genius Photographer - Chapter 87

A massive set, large enough to fill an entire warehouse, was truly awe-inspiring.

“Wow…”

“Did they really build this in just a few days?”

The models gasped as they entered, looking around in amazement. Cameras for the show’s recording captured their every reaction.

“I never expected to shoot in a place this big.”

“Did they set up the whole set in advance?”

“This is my first time in a place like this…”

The excitement in their voices made it clear they were still new to this. Even though they’d participated in the Doshuko show, a set of this scale was likely a first for them.

I smiled and replied calmly, “I told you I’d give it my all. We had to try everything we could.”

The team members’ faces lit up with gratitude.

“We’re really lucky to have you as our photographer, Woojin.”

“Definitely. I talked with the other teams, and ours has the best vibe by far.”

“We trust you completely.”

Seeing them huddle close, they looked almost like baby chicks trailing behind their mother hen. Though, since they were aspiring models and quite tall, the scene looked a bit different.

“Well then, let’s go over the shoot plan.”

Thanks to their eagerness, I didn’t even need to ask for their attention. With expectant eyes on me, I began explaining.

“First, we’ll start with individual shots.”

Once we got into the specifics, their expressions sharpened with focus.

“We’ve got all the items we discussed from the first meeting, so feel free to pick whichever you prefer.”

I gestured toward the corner where all the props were neatly arranged, from the smallest items to rare, expensive pieces—all brought in for this shoot.

“Did you buy all these with your own money?”

“Wow…”

But I didn’t feel the need to make a big deal out of it. To achieve the best shots, I’d need their full cooperation, so this level of investment was only natural.

“Use anything you need. After the individual shots, we’ll proceed to group shots.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Got it.”

They nodded enthusiastically, their eyes sparkling with excitement. I matched their gaze and continued, “We’ll start soon, so please get dressed and ready.”

While the models checked the props and changed outfits, I stood in the center of the set, gathering my thoughts.

I had answered them with confidence, but securing first place in this mission wouldn’t be easy.

Both Photographer Kang and Kim Jin-goo, despite their personalities, were highly skilled and widely respected in the field.

There was no guarantee of winning.

‘Let’s give it our best.’

But I kept any doubts to myself. I didn’t want to show weakness to the models relying on me, and speaking words of doubt could make them a reality. So, instead of weighing the odds, my focus was on how to capture the winning shot.

I hadn’t even decided on the final group photo yet. Many ideas came to mind, but none felt right. Sometimes, inspiration just needed time to strike.

‘Whew…’

I took a slow breath.

“We’re starting individual shots.”

And so the shoot began.

—Click!

I pressed the shutter as the models posed in front of me, dressed for iconic Hollywood moments. One model, in a white dress like Marilyn Monroe’s, struck her signature pose, clutching her skirt as it fluttered in an artificial breeze.

Whether from past experience in the previous missions or a fierce determination to earn high marks this time, she held a gaze that was remarkably intense.

“Marilyn Monroe’s charm lay in her radiant smile. Try adding more expression.”

—Click!

With each click, I saw her improving, capturing the lively essence I was aiming for.

The other models followed in similar fashion. From Marilyn Monroe to Angelina Jolie, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Paris Hilton—they each embodied the Hollywood stars they admired. I guided them through each shot, capturing every detail.

For the aspiring stars in front of me, a paparazzi photo was something reserved for the famous, and their costumes reflected their ambitions.

‘Perhaps that’s what I should capture…’

Just as a flicker of inspiration started forming, a loud, froggy voice interrupted.

“Wow! This set is fantastic!”

I turned, surprised. “Photographer Kim Jin-goo? What brings you here…?”

“Oh, you’re in the middle of a shoot, I see.”

How did he even find this place?

“No reason for a senior to need an invitation to visit a junior, is there? Just thought I’d drop by and give you some advice on securing first place.”

The bullfrog, wearing that mismatched smile I’d seen before, approached me. His smug look made me wonder what nonsense he had come to spout this time.

“Aha, so you’re photographing Hollywood stars, huh? For someone boasting about winning first place, it’s pretty simple, don’t you think?” He glanced around, quickly picking up on the theme of my shoot and, predictably, began mocking it.

“Do you actually think you can win with this? You’ve spent a lot of money, but with this, it feels like a waste.”

Anger simmered inside me, but I calmed myself and responded with a smile. “No problem. The shoot just started. But I assume your shoot is already wrapped up, Photographer Kim?”

You think I’ll let you rattle me so easily? Maybe take care of your own photos instead of critiquing mine.

I kept my tone respectful, but I was sure he understood the underlying message. He was, after all, someone who always had a knack for stirring things up.

“What? You…”

The bullfrog’s belly quivered in irritation, likely annoyed that things weren’t going his way. Still, with the cameras around, he probably couldn’t let loose like before.

Then, unexpectedly, he sighed deeply. “Ah, this won’t do.”

He covered the microphone on his lapel with one hand, and with the other, he signaled to the cameraman to stop recording.

“Turn it off for a moment.”

The cameraman hesitated briefly before lowering the camera.

Seeing this, Photographer Kim called out, “Hey, you, over there. Come here.”

Gone was the polite façade as he addressed the model with a casual command.

“Yes?”

The model hesitantly approached, clearly sensing the change.

“Of all of them, this one’s the only decent one,” he sneered, inspecting the model up close with a twisted smile.

“Let me give you some advice, kid,” he said, looking back at me. “Get them to strip.”

The model’s eyes widened in shock at his outrageous suggestion.

“These types are everywhere, especially in the fashion industry.”

Relishing the shock on the model’s face, Photographer Kim chuckled. “After all, if you want them to get any screen time, you have to strip them down. You won’t see them after the show ends anyway.”

The model bit her lip hard, visibly fighting back tears at the humiliation.

“What? Don’t like the idea?” Photographer Kim scoffed, irritated by her reaction. “Then go home. Why are you even here? Didn’t you come here because you want to make it big? Don’t you have that kind of determination?”

“Photographer,” I interjected.

“What?”

“I understand your advice, but I’ll be doing things my way.”

I stepped between him and the model, blocking him from further tormenting her. My expression had turned stone-cold, unable to even maintain a polite front.

Photographer Kim finally seemed satisfied, noticing the chill in the air. “Haha. Do as you please, then. I’ve said my piece. I’ll be going now.”

With a smug look, he turned and left the set, tossing a final taunt over his shoulder. “Let’s see if you can pull it off.”

His words hung in the air, casting a chill over what had been a warm, lively set. The model, who had been holding back tears, broke down, her face pale with humiliation.

“Ms. Kim Yeon-hee, are you okay?”

She looked up at me, teary-eyed, and asked, “Photograher… Do I really have to do that to succeed?”

Kim Jin-goo’s words had been pure poison, using the allure of success to push a hopeful newcomer toward a path of self-doubt and degradation.

Fury rose within me once again.

He was entirely wrong. Especially as a photographer who hides behind the camera to express himself, he should never say such things. His words showed a complete lack of respect for his subjects and the integrity every photographer should have.

I shook my head and answered.

“No.”

In a firmest tone I could muster.

“Absolutely, absolutely not.”

Never.

“Let’s prove him wrong, Ms. Yeon-hee. Let’s show everyone that’s not how it has to be.”

The best way to counter his vile words was to create something remarkable.

I closed my eyes, letting the turmoil settle and focusing entirely on the photos we needed to take. I let go of everything unnecessary and filled my mind with only what was needed for this shoot.

The theme was paparazzi. The subjects: four models. The judges: experts from the fashion industry and three photographers, including myself.

I had to capture the models as the stars, embodying the theme of paparazzi while also conveying a message in my unique style. The emotions to evoke were admiration, ambition, and, yes, a touch of defiance.

What kind of scene would convey that?

What composition? Which outfits? What camera settings?

Countless ideas flitted through my mind until I finally honed in on the perfect one.

“Everyone, gather around. It’s time for the group shot.”

I had decided on exactly what kind of picture to capture.

*****

The term “paparazzi” first became widely known in Korea after the tragic death of Princess Diana.

At the time, Diana was one of the most famous figures in the UK, which made photos of her incredibly valuable, constantly making her a target of paparazzi. Harassed relentlessly, she tried to evade them one day by speeding up her car. But she lost control, crashing into a roadside pillar and sustaining fatal injuries.

Even as she clung to life, the paparazzi who had been pursuing her did not try to help. Instead, they continued taking photos, flashing their cameras as she took her last breaths.

What might she have thought in those final moments, looking into those lenses?

That was what I wanted to express.

I spread a crimson cloth on the set floor, with the models lying upon it. The deep red fabric beneath them rippled like a pool of spreading blood. Above them, numerous cameras dangled from wires, all aimed at the models—just like a swarm of paparazzi closing in.

“Stay lying down and hold your poses,” I instructed.

The models lay there, staring up at the hovering cameras, twisting their bodies as though distressed. It was as if the gaze of the cameras was torturous—or perhaps even joyful. Each of the four models expressed a different emotion through their eyes: one reflected admiration for stardom, another held ambition to achieve her dreams, the third showed fear of the crowd’s gaze, and the last conveyed anger.

I climbed up a ladder, raised my camera, and waited patiently, capturing the emotions that radiated from their faces and flowed through their bodies, from fingertips to toes.

Click!

With each click of the shutter, the models resumed their poses, writhing on the fabric that clung to them like blood.

Click!

I continued, snapping away, watching each scene unfold through the viewfinder. The models, even while lying down, emanated a powerful presence.

Click!

Surrounding them were countless cameras.

Click!

Each moment, captured in its entirety.

The models had joined this programme in pursuit of their dreams of becoming supermodels.

While their dreams shone brightly, they also cast a deep, dark shadow.

To be loved by the public, one must always be ready to endure pain.

Fame is a double-edged sword, a glittering blade that can turn into poison.