Two Young Men
Minjun calmly recounted his conversation with Gyujin to Eunju. Gyujin admitted he hadn’t fully understood him. Accepting it in his heart was still difficult. The scars left by his ex-wife’s infidelity made it instinctive for him to close himself off at the mere mention of such things. Yet he recognized that this was different. A hidden betrayal and a couple’s shared awareness of their own inclinations were not the same. Even if he couldn’t yet bring himself to like that difference, he knew Minjun had not tried to deceive him. That much, at least, he would acknowledge.
Eunju listened in silence. Minjun added one final point. “However, he says it will be difficult for the three of us to meet again anytime soon.”
Eunju’s fingertips froze. “I see.”
“Yeah.”
Minjun studied her face. “He asked me to explain it carefully so you wouldn’t feel ashamed.”
“He doesn’t see you as some strange woman.”
“He just… needs time to accept that it’s different.”
Eunju lowered her head. Relief and disappointment washed over her at once. It was fortunate that Gyujin had not run away. Yet the knowledge that facing her again would be difficult for the time being left a strangely lingering sense of regret. She could imagine the impression she had left on him. And she understood that the impression still held him captive.
Just then, Minjun’s phone rang. It was not Gyujin. The call came from one of the younger photography club members whose name she had seen several times in the group chat. Minjun checked the screen and narrowed his eyes slightly. Eunju asked, “Who is it?”
“From the club.”
After a brief hesitation, Minjun answered. “Yes, this is Kim Minjun.”
The man on the other end sounded tense from the first syllable. “Hello, hyung.”
“I’m sorry for calling so late.”
“I agonized a great deal over whether I should even be making this call.”
Minjun glanced at Eunju. She remained seated exactly as she was, yet something in her eyes had changed. Minjun spoke calmly. “Go ahead.”
The man seemed to swallow. “I saw your wife at the after-party last time.”
“She’s been on my mind ever since.”
“If it’s not too presumptuous, I would very much like to photograph her.”
Minjun did not answer immediately. Eunju’s gaze settled on the phone in his hand. Through it flowed the young man’s careful, trembling desire.
Minjun asked, “What exactly do you mean by wanting to photograph her?”
The man paused. “Portrait photography.”
“Less posed, more natural in atmosphere.”
“The way she sat that day left a powerful impression.”
“A natural atmosphere,” Minjun echoed, not answering at once. The words coming through the receiver were excessively cautious. Polite, yes, but Minjun could sense something else hiding behind that politeness.
“Then should I take it that ordinary everyday snapshots would suffice?”
The man fell silent. That silence was answer enough.
“That is…”
The young man chose his next words with care. “Everyday photos would be fine as well.”
“But to be completely honest, I wasn’t thinking only of plain snapshots.”
Minjun looked at Eunju. She listened without a word, yet her fingertips had stiffened against the tabletop.
In a low voice, Minjun asked, “Then what were you thinking of?”
The man on the line hesitated for a long time. “At the after-party last time… when I saw your wife.”
“She was simply sitting there, yet my eyes kept returning to her.”
“Seeing her clothed like that was beautiful enough, but I couldn’t stop wondering what lay beneath what was hidden.”
“After seeing her that day, I wanted to capture what existed beyond the surface.”
Minjun pressed again. “So it’s not ordinary snapshots after all.”
This time the man could not evade. “Yes.”
It was a short answer. Eunju heard that single syllable. Within it lay everything the young man hoped to see in her.
Minjun set the phone on the table and turned on the speaker.
“My wife is listening right now as well.”
Eunju opened her mouth slowly. “How do you want to photograph me?”
The man could not continue at once. Minjun looked at her. Her face had flushed deeply, yet she did not retreat. Instead of hiding behind her husband, she faced the question directly, determined to confirm exactly how her body was being desired.
The man spoke haltingly. “If this made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
Eunju answered in a low voice. “It’s not discomfort I feel. Rather, I’m curious. Tell me how you want to capture me.”
Those words altered the air on the other end of the line. The man could no longer speak only to Minjun. The woman he desired was listening in person.
“The way you look embarrassed, sister-in-law.”
“Not forced into hiding, but aware that you are being seen.”
“The moment when you try to cover yourself yet do not fully cover.”
“That is what I wanted to photograph.”
Eunju drew a slightly delayed breath. The words were not crude, yet they struck with perfect accuracy.
“And…”
“If this expression offends you, I apologize.”
“You give the impression of someone who should not be seen, more than simply being beautiful.”
Eunju’s face burned hotter. Minjun’s eyes met hers. She did not look away.
“So I wanted to capture even more.”
“Even knowing you have a husband.”
“Even though that knowledge demands greater caution.”
“I thought it would be good if that very sense of necessary caution could be captured as well.”
Eunju could not speak. His words had not stripped her clothing, yet she felt as though she had been seen to her very core.
Minjun intervened. “That is enough. We have heard what we needed to hear.”
The line fell silent.
“How many of you are there?” Minjun asked.
“Pardon?”
“Are you alone?”
The man hesitated. “Including myself, there are two.”
“We are both young members who saw sister-in-law at the after-party.”
“We talked about it together… and I decided to call first.”
Eunju’s lips parted slightly, then closed again. Two young men.
Minjun looked at Eunju. She said nothing, yet her eyes did not ask him to end the call.
Minjun spoke toward the phone once more. “I cannot give consent during this call. I must discuss it with my wife.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“However, there is a precondition you must accept before we can even begin considering whether to proceed with the shoot you proposed.”
Eunju’s fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly against the table. Minjun saw it.
“The memory card used during the shoot will be collected by us immediately afterward.”
“No originals, no copies, no working files will remain.”
“You will take no photographs with you.”
The man sounded momentarily flustered. “Ah… then how would we edit—”
“There will be none.” Minjun cut him off. “If you are coming in hopes of keeping the photos, this conversation ends here.”
“If you are coming to experience the act of photographing my wife itself, that moment, then we will consider it.”
The other end grew quiet.
“I understand what you mean.”
Minjun continued without pause. “We require insurance as well.”
The man swallowed. “Insurance…?”
“It means avoiding a structure in which only my wife is judged and exposed. Just as the two of you observed and judged my wife, she has the right to observe and judge you both. Send photographs that show your faces and full bodies, without concealing even the most sensitive parts. If you cannot share that burden, this discussion ends here.”
A shaky breath trembled on the other end. After a long pause, the young man asked carefully, “Both of us… must send them?”
Minjun’s answer was brief. “Yes. Both of you.”
He paused, then added, “I will not create a situation in which only Eunju bears the risk.”
Eunju remained silent. Only moments earlier she had listened as her body was measured and desired; now she watched Minjun transform those desires into precise, unyielding conditions. He was neatly sealing the narrow gap between excitement and fear.
The man answered cautiously. “Understood.”
“We will discuss it among ourselves.”
“Discuss it, then contact us.” Minjun added one last reminder. “And let me repeat: nothing has been decided yet.”
“If my wife does not consent, it ends.”
“Even if I consent, if my wife refuses, it ends.”
Eunju quietly lowered her eyes at those words. This time the man spoke directly to her. “Sister-in-law.”
“If I was rude, I apologize.”
Eunju steadied her breath before answering. “I don’t know yet whether it was rude.”
Minjun looked at her. Eunju continued slowly. “But I understand now how I must have appeared to you.”
The line fell silent once more. Eunju said nothing further. Minjun ended the call. “I will check it if you send an email.”
The call disconnected. Only the phone remained on the table, dark and quiet. Eunju stared at its black screen for a long time. Even after the line had gone dead, a lingering heat remained somewhere deep inside her body.
Minjun looked at her. “Are you all right?”
Eunju did not answer at once. Only after a long pause did she speak. “You said there were two of them.”
Minjun’s eyes deepened. “Yes.”
Eunju lowered her head. Though she had only heard it through the phone, the knowledge that two young men wanted to see her body refused to settle. Her mind felt shame, but her body had already begun to respond to that desire.