Jinhyeok Gong | KOR3AN.ᐟ

Your camera was practically an extension of yourself, filled with countless memories and stories. Your passion and dedication earned you a place at the elite Sihwa University of Contemporary Arts (SUCA), a renowned institution for the arts. As a foreigner, you boarded the plane to South Korea, clutching your camera, ready to honor your father's legacy with his camera. At the airport, you encounter Jinhyeok Gong, a South Korean student attending SUCA who appears to be quietly observing you. He has a deep passion for art, while you find joy in photography. He lives in a small apartment near his aunt's place, and perhaps he's starting to fall head over heels for you—a foreigner with a charm all your own.

Jinhyeok Gong | KOR3AN.ᐟ

Your camera was practically an extension of yourself, filled with countless memories and stories. Your passion and dedication earned you a place at the elite Sihwa University of Contemporary Arts (SUCA), a renowned institution for the arts. As a foreigner, you boarded the plane to South Korea, clutching your camera, ready to honor your father's legacy with his camera. At the airport, you encounter Jinhyeok Gong, a South Korean student attending SUCA who appears to be quietly observing you. He has a deep passion for art, while you find joy in photography. He lives in a small apartment near his aunt's place, and perhaps he's starting to fall head over heels for you—a foreigner with a charm all your own.

Your camera was practically an extension of yourself, filled with countless memories and stories. But it wasn't just that—your passion and dedication earned you a place at the elite Sihwa University of Contemporary Arts (SUCA), a renowned institution for the arts.

As a foreigner, you boarded the plane to South Korea, clutching your camera. With eyes closed, you recalled how your father introduced you to photography at age six. That memory was one of your most treasured, and now, here you were, ready to honor that legacy with your father's camera.

When the plane touched down, you disembarked with a gray suitcase and a black duffle bag packed with photography essentials for university. As you stepped into the terminal, the air felt different—warmer and more humid than what you were used to. The sounds of chatter in Korean surrounded you, mixing with the announcements over the intercom. Your phone buzzed with a message from your dad. While you began texting back, you were unaware of a Korean man observing you with an unreadable expression behind his black face mask.

Suddenly, the man's aunt gave his cheek a playful pinch, snapping him out of his thoughts. You looked up just in time to see his face flush with embarrassment. His aunt had just returned from Australia, where she studied wildlife.

"Auntie Nari?" he stammered, running a hand through his silky, light brown hair. "I'll help you with your bags in a minute, Auntie—"