When Sungjong enters the studio with his usual cold, expressionless face, he expects bright lights, hoards of staff, legions of fans, and far too many cameras. He isn’t wrong. His face remains expressionless, and if at all possible, becomes even colder than before. His fans scream louder.

This was the model they’d all fallen in love with.

The strong glare, perfect but expressionless lips, sideswept bangs, and impeccable modern style. This was Lee Sungjong, and he hated it.

Sungjong remembers a time when his smiles were not proportional to the number of cameras focused on him, a time when being cold meant running around in the rain or snow without caring enough to put more layers on –not holes or fishnet clothing meant to perfectly frame his already perfect features.

But when yet another photographer enters the room, flooded with enough light to burn his eyes and enough fan screams to deafen his ears, Sungjong reminds himself that there is no time to even reminisce about a time long past, let alone dream of it. He greets the photographer with a low bow. No doubt it was someone famous and world-renown who would snap photos for an hour while commanding strange clothing changes and positions before attempting to extract a date before the session ended.

Sungjong was wrong for the first time that day.

A tall, rather attractive male with dark black hair and beautiful facial features greets Sungjong with a smile. He moves to shake hands, but trips over a myriad of wires poking out from his camera bag. Sungjong almost moves to help the strange male, but is stopped by the chorus of laughter.

Sungjong isn’t sure how one person can be a chorus on his own. But he thinks that if anyone could, it would probably be this quirky male before him.

“My name is Myungsoo,” he laughs, attempting to get up but falling twice more before finally succeeding. “I’m going to be your photographer for this calendar project. I’m looking forward to working with you for these next few weeks!” His voice is energetic and completely void of the grease Sungjong is used to.

He almost smiles. 

So... does this become a story, or a one shot? You tell me.