For the people who requested dochae, sorry it's late.
I'm expecting this one to be longer so I'm breaking it up into parts.
Forgive me.

When Kim Doyeon was fifteen, she was 165cm and still growing. 

She was also part of the cheerleading squad, and more specifically--she was the cheerleading captain. 

Even so, the desire to follow her sister's footsteps didn't last throughout highschool and so did her passion for the sport. The Olympics were a stretch and it wasn't like Doyeon had any ambition to strive for the top cheerleading position in South Korea as well. 

Instead, she wanted to move on to a different route. Perhaps something more stable but still off the beaten path. One that would at least carve out part of her future, so that she'd know where to go if she ever found herself lost.

Also bonus points if it made her look cool just like cheerleading had--you know, with the prestige and all.

It took Doyeon about a year of fumbling through the options. She asked her friends and family for advice, flipped through job recommendation lists and even spent some time trying all those random job quizzes on the internet. 

Although she never found out why picking her favourite colour was essential to knowing what her ideal job was. 

It came to the point where she became caught in this feverish hunt. Her mind plunged from each daydream of her future to the next, grasping for a sense for what it'd be like to perhaps be... a tour guide? An air stewardess? A teacher? 

Being a food taster sounded nice. 

The list was endless. 

But nothing really clicked; nothing really made her react the same way as how biting down on a piece of prime grade beef would (she assumed; Doyeon had never actually tasted that kind of high quality meat before, but a girl can dream). 

That is--until she had an epiphany whilst staring at an advertisement poster on the bus ride home. It was plastered on the thin wall which separated the driver from their customers. 

When her eyes became transfixed on the face of the model smiling down on some product she'd never need or use, it finally hit her hard on the head. 

And so three years later, at the age of eighteen and of a height of 175cm, Kim Doyeon became a model. 

The runway was a place where dreams sprung from. 

And first walks were always the most nerve-wrecking and tear-inducing experience any young model would have to go through. 

Kim Doyeon couldn't remember the exact details of her first walk, but she rememberd the way it made her feel; that plunge in your stomach, gut stirring with disconcertment, the clammy hands--there was nothing really like it. 

Sometimes she'd still feel it but it was different now. 

Oh, it was so much more different now. With more than three years of experience under her belt, feelings like that hardly fazed her anymore. There wasn't once where she batted an eyelid--it wasn't her style. 

Instead she would gently tilt her chin upward, graze a finger along the sharp line of her jaw, and move into the perfect angle for a shot. Her chocolate-brown eyes would stare down the line of seats, ruby red lips parted slightly. Her tresses of dark midnight hair would be splayed past her collarbones, falling down the curve of her shoulder blades and pale exposed back. 

Oh, Kim Doyeon was beautiful.

And it was a look that made many people sigh--photographers, reporters and spectators alike--an impenetrable fortress of charisma and beauty. 

Click! Click! Click! 

This was her signature look. 

Click! Click! Click! 

And this was what a rising supermodel looked like. 

That's right. 

Kim Doyeon was a gem among stones and she never planned on letting that title go. 

"Look."

Yoojung came stalking into the dressing room. She held a rolled up magazine in one hand and pushed up the pair of metal-rimmed glasses on her nose with the other. Yoojung was petite, short and small. And if someone were to conjure the image of an animal equivalent, the image of a chihuahua would instantly appear in their minds. 

Doyeon swung around in her chair, slightly surprised at the sight of her manager. 

"Oh Yoojung-ah," she greeted brightly. Then she held her hands out. "That was fast, where's my food?"

With a frown, Yoojung smacked Doyeon on the head with the magazine and propped a hand on her hip. 

"Yah! Am I supposed to be your food supplier or something?"

Cue a cheeky nod from Doyeon and another smack on the head from Yoojung. 

"You just ate lunch. Where did all that food go?" Yoojung squinted her eyes at the model, secretly envious of the girl's thin waist and slender limbs. How on earth was this even allowed? Why can't people be born equally? 

Life was so unfair. 

"You know I don't gain weight easily."

"But you were complaining to me last night about how you just gained two kilograms." Yoojung stated as she rolled her eyes at Doyeon. "Wailing to me, in fact."

"It turned out the weighing machine was actually broken, so I didn't gain any." Doyeon explained animatedly as she twirled around in her chair again. 

It was commonly knowledge--among the staff--that Doyeon was the kind of girl whose metabolism was fast enough to burn any undesired amount of calories. On top of that she hated exercising. One wouldn't be able to catch the sight of Doyeon working out at the gym. No way. 

"Stop doing that, you're making me dizzy--" Yoojung held the chair fast, killing the girl's fun as she brought it to a halt. Doyeon frowned in response and reached for the magazine in Yoojung's hand. 

"What's this?"

Yoojung brought her phone out. 

"Page 52--two-paged spread on Project X with Blossom," she instructed and Doyeon flipped accordingly, the pages flopping over as she did so. The waxy texture of the magazine felt slightly cool under her fingers. 

Page 52. 

The first thing that caught her eye were the large photos of her and another really pretty model arranged on each page respectively. Black-inked walls of text were printed next to the pictures. 

Project X: Top nation visuals blaze through the fashion scene. A new era for fashion? 

Doyeon skimmed through her section on the left. It was mainly about the brands she had modelled for and her other achievements. Then she slid her gaze over to the next page. 

Jung Chaeyeon. 

Nation's first love--a beauty unlike any other. 

...fall for her innocent looks and mysterious charms, Jung Chaeyeon may be new to the modelling scene but the young inspiring model may just re-define your definition of beauty...

Sure, the girl on the page was beautiful but...

"Re-define your definition of beauty? Seriously?" Doyeon almost scoffed at the absurdity of the statement. 

"Your first shoot together is next week." 

She looked up from the magazine to see Yoojung thumbing through her phone. The latter was looking through her schedule. Doyeon leaned into her seat and reached for a snack on the make-up table. It was chocolate-flavoured waffle biscuits--her new favourite. 

It'd be a lie to say that she wasn't slightly nervous. 

After all, Doyeon had never worked with anyone else before on a photoshoot project. Generally, she believed that she worked better alone. 

But Yoojung had argued that it would help her boost her publicity and moreover, Blossom had good brand reputation--it'd be a mistake to pass up something like that. So after a couple days of the short manager's persistent nagging, Doyeon finally caved in and took up the offer. 

"Time?"

Yoojung thumbed through her phone again. 

"Morning shoot. 9 o'clock--I'll pick you from your place an hour earlier so please get ready by then. Don't be late." Yoojung emphasised the last three words slowly as she walked back out the dressing room to pick up a sudden call. 

Doyeon nodded her head as she watched her manager leave, her hands occupied with unwrapping the yummy snack. Then she bit into waffle biscuit lazily. 

Jung Chaeyeon. 

She wondered what the girl was like. 

First impressions were always important and Chaeyeon had certainly made a good one. 

Initially, Doyeon had expected the girl to be like the others--snobbishly beautiful, stuck-up like princesses, perhaps a little rude as well. 

But surprisingly, Chaeyeon seemed to possess none of those traits.

The young model had entered the studio with a bag of gifts and caramel sweets, and she had passed them one by one to the staff and crew members herself, thanking them as she did so. Doyeon still remembered how the girl had her long straight hair tucked behind her ears as she walked around politely, a persistently sweet smile stuck to her lips. 

She also remembered how Chaeyeon had beamed at her, in an almost stunning manner as the latter revealed straight rows of pearly-white teeth, and gave her more caramel sweets than everyone else in the room. Then they shook hands, and Doyeon recalled how soft Chaeyeon's hands were and how she was almost convinced that the latter was a nice person just by a mere handshake. 

Honestly it irked her. 

There was something about Chaeyeon that felt slightly off--was it all an act?

Was the girl actually playing pretend, trying to look nice, trying to win her over? 

Ha!

Kim Doyeon wasn't so easily fooled. 

She stood by the entrance of the dressing room, watching carefully with her arms folded almost defensively. Doyeon felt uncompelled to approach the girl and so she didn't. Then she returned to her seat and did a short twirl in it again--an old habit she had developed after spending so much time in dressing rooms. 

Everyone knew that Chaeyeon was popular. 

And popularity didn't come with niceness--it just wasn't how things worked in this industry.

Doyeon nodded to herself as she mused quietly. The idea of Chaeyeon actually being a nice person continued to sound dubious in her head. Then she hopped off her chair to take another peek, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as she did so.  

"We'll see how long she can keep that up..." she muttered under her breath, suddenly aware of an odd sensation of blood rushing into her head at the sight of Chaeyeon bending over to pick up a file a staff member had carelessly dropped. She popped a caramel sweet into . 

The girl was beautiful and too nice to be true. 

Surely, Chaeyeon couldn't be that nice. 

Right? 

AN: thank you for reading! excuse any errors.