My First Priority Is You

First Encounter

July 15- 21

Dear Diary,

Today was a complete whirlwind. I got dragged to this summer photography program by my cousin, who needed my moral support. I wasn't thrilled—photography isn't exactly my thing. But my cousin was really excited, and I couldn't say no to her pleading.

The venue was as dull as I'd expected, and I was already planning to find a quiet corner and zone out when something completely unexpected happened. I bumped into this girl—Y/N. She looked about my age, maybe a year younger, and she was so striking. Taller than most kids her age, she had this incredible cascade of curls and a beautiful deep shade of brown skin. There was an elegance about her that immediately caught my eye.

Her camera strap had slipped off her shoulder, and an accessory had fallen to the floor. I rushed over to help her. I was probably shaking a little, trying to sound cool. "Here you go," I said, handing her the accessory.

She looked up, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Oh, thank you," she said softly.

"Sorry about that," I replied, trying to sound casual even though my heart was racing.

"No problem," she said, her voice soft but confident as she adjusted her camera.

I couldn't help but be fascinated by her. "Is your camera okay?" I asked, peeking at the lens.

"Yeah, it's fine," she said. "Just had a bit of a hiccup."

I watched her, captivated. She was so effortlessly cool. "Thanks for helping," she said, looking up at me. "I'm Y/N."

I was stunned. "I'm Taehyung," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I didn't catch your name the other day."

She glanced over her shoulder, her mom calling her from a distance. "I'm Y/N," she said quickly before walking away.

As she walked off, I felt this intense urge to see her again. I was about to leave when it hit me—why not join the program myself? I called my mom right then, asking her to sign me up.

"Mom, I know it's last minute, but could you sign me up for that photography program? Yeah, I know it's for the summer, but... I just want to give it a try."

After the call ended, I felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. What if I didn't see her again? But there was something about that brief encounter that made me want to stick around and find out.

The next few days at the photography program felt like an eternity. I had expected to find excitement or passion, but instead, it was just tedious lectures and awkward group activities. Most of the other participants were more interested in their phones than learning, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd made a huge mistake.

I wandered around the campus, half-heartedly taking photos of the bland scenery, trying to find some inspiration. Every time I thought of leaving, I felt a pang of regret for not having tried harder to see if Y/N would show up.

Then, one afternoon, as I was trudging along the trail, I saw something that made my heart leap. There she was, unmistakably Y/N. I could recognize her from a distance—the same beautiful curls, the same confident stance. She was crouched down, intently focused on something.

I could hardly believe my luck. I crept closer, my camera hanging forgotten around my neck. She was taking photos of a pair of squirrels, the little creatures frolicking around the base of a tree. Her concentration was so complete that she didn't notice me approaching.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I walked up to her. "Hey," I called out, trying to sound casual. "You're really good at this. Those squirrels seem to be loving the attention."