A/N: Hi, I guess I'm back to write this (?) What I'm writing is definitely nothing much now because this is going to be a lengthy, really lengthy story. This means their personalities are going to change, you know those three-hundred-and-sixty degrees turn? That's how the story is evolving to. Especially in a competition whereby only the best survive, only the best gets the glamour, while the loser are left behind. No ugly sobs here but a race to overtake one another, whether you like it or know it. That's how it goes. With that, I shall humbly request you to enjoy the chapter now.  

The Second Introductions:

(Paradise, a world-class modelling agency, exists for only a sole purpose - to satisfy the greed of the public, media and themselves and carry out the search for the one and only destined one. You may question why is everyone obsessed with such a rat race? Just like how top ballerinas strive to be the Prima Donna, only the recognized models are invited to join the competition to become that destined one - Destiny.) 

The elegant ladies, donned in famous-brands and obvious luxury, are comfortably sitting round a distinguishable coffee table that is imported directly from England, and slowly enjoying the high tea served to them, just a few minutes ago. It's still absolute silence. 

The first to move is noticeably cheery, exuding a child-like fulfilment as she takes a sip of her caramel macchiato, and the rest of the ladies secretly cringes at its sweetness and- "Can you pass me a packet of sugar," she asks.  

The second one chortles amusingly as she passes the packet of sugar to her, and watches the six others widen their eyes and stare at her in surprise, with a mixture of disgust and of course, a tinge of jealousy. 

"Thanks," she shyly beams at her, "My name is Yoona and I like sweet stuffs so you see."

The second notices her rose-red cheeks and decides to extend her hand. 

"You're welcome," she responds confidently, "I'm Kwon Yuri, you can call me Yuri."

Yoona takes her hand and feels the warmth, or perhaps not.

And then, the third blinks blankly, as if she's in her one own world. She doesn't move much or talk, only turning her head towards them once or twice. A cold and chic woman, that's the first impression everyone has of her. That's probably her charisma but she really doesn't care. Not interested, she convinces herself and continues to watch the white clouds passing by the sky-blue horizon.

"Nice to meet you," the fourth one has a distinct American accent as she introduces herself, "I'm Tiffany Hwang."

The third one reacts this time as her eyelids shoot up. 

"Tiffany?" She speaks in English fluently, "You're from America, too?" 

"You're Jessica Jung? I've heard you since a long time ago," she speaks sarcastically. 

Tiffany casually sweeps her long dark locks behind her back before she nods her head and gives a seemingly light and insincere smile to her. A curve makes its way to but there's no crescents formed on her charming eyes this time.

It's not everyday you get to see four stunning ladies in a room, sparkling with types of its own. But Kris, Luhan, Kai and Sehun manage to capture this implausible moment. The awkwardness in the atmosphere has seemed to disappear and the tranquility is replaced by peels of giggles and occassional outbusts of laughters.  

"Seems like your prediction is wrong," Sehun comments as the lanky young man looks on with a bored expression, "No cat-fight." 

"You think so? You don't know a thing," he replies nonchalantly, "It's a mind game, my little boy."

Sehun rolls his eyes, a trademark habit of his as he scoffs at Kai, the Mr-Know-It-All. The other man, whose eyes have an uncanny resemblence to those of a deer, tries to make a placid expression on his face as he listens to their entertaining squabble. But he fails as he hears them softly whispering 'guy acting cool with his blond hair' and ends up almost spitting out his drinks with fits of laughter. 

The blond guy, who's the topic of conversation, turn his attention towards the seemingly-insane man.

"What are you doing?" He speaks in a language that baffles the other two who's engaging in a form of discussion to the guy who looks so much younger than he really is.

"No," he waves his hands and speaks in the exact language fluently, "The two were just sharing their thoughts on your newly-dyed hair." 

"So what were they saying?" He questions.

"Nothing really," he answers, "Just cool, really cool."

"Oh, they're my fans?" He assumes, with a little too much of his confidence and optimism. The blonde guy emits a haughty snort and straightens his posture as he approaches them. "I'm Kris," he shoots them a grin unexpectedly, "Nice to meet you. All of us are cool here." 

The three stares in silence for a second before they laugh in cohesion at the flaunting, dominant and silly guy.