At the dawn, the phone settled on her bedside table rang - in reality, it already was nine in the morning and the sun has risen since hours. Her eyes puffed, Taeyeon picked up with a flabby voice... She has forgoet where she was. It was a sign she had spend a good resting night and, nestled against soft mattress and high quality sheets, that was quite understandable. Quickly, her fashion designer old friend's voice at the end of the line brought her back on earth... Well, back in heaven, better. The room was wide, beautiful, luxurious, even if that was not a suite, it made her feel dizzy from opulence and sophistication just by looking at it. Here she was in Paris, on her own.

Seong Ho notified her he would send a car to pick her up down the hotel in one hour, to drive her to his workshop for the fitting, avenue Montaigne. The famous avenue Montaigne. Even if she did not speak French, when he said those words, she felt stars sparkling in her eyes. That was exactly what most of her Asian counterparts wanted to see when they visit the most beautiful city of the world : glamour, elegance, dream. She could not believe how lucky she was, si luch that Seong Ho had to make sure she was still on line. She was foolishly gob-smacked, daydreaming about her day though she knew  it, actually that kind of things never happened in real life the way they do in every little girl's head filled with too much fantasies.

Quickly, Taeyeon collected herself. She was not here as a tourist, she was here to work and was expected to be behaving as a professional would. She sprawled while yawning, her eyes directed to the huge window which small balcony was letting sight to the Cour Pierre Ier de Serbie, gorgeous under the radiant morning sun. Of course, dressed in her baby blue pajamas with pink clouds on it, she was feeling a bit silly stuck in the middle of that fairy tales scenery but she didn't have much free time to get moved by it. She had to be perfect before going to the studios and, without any professionals' help, it would not be such an easy task. She skipped breakfast and went to the bathroom... crying out loud as she discovered it.

She could not get to have such a huge bathroom for her own private use. The bathtub was bigger than her bed back in Seoul. Everything was made of marbles and gold, shining like precious jewels, so much Taeyeon was afraid she would ruin something just by stepping inside the place. Not only was it splendid, but there was everything necessary with it : from famous luxurious branded shower gels to the high quality perfume samples, not to forget towels of an immaculate white that, just by looking at it, made her feel how soft and mellow they were. She might be dreaming... And to say it would only last for a couple of days!

Once surprise and wonder was over, she quickly undressed, leaving her childish attire for the one of a grown-up woman. The bath she had was filled with foam and made to let her sink into another universe, the one where she was not some little Korean girl lost in a world that was too much sparks for her anymore but some pop superstar going to work. It was an essential and compulsory ritual. She had to do that to get into her role, to slip herself back into that other half of her which was part of her, but was not who she was fully.

Half an hour latter, she was stepping inside the hall. She was a pretty different Taeyeon than the one who arrived last night with a limo, impressed and blushing at each occasion. Her hair tied in a high ponytail where no locks were out, perched on black leather boots, she was walking with self-confidence to the reception counter, sunglasses on her nose, Louis Vuitton bag hanging at her arm. With her high-waisted jeans and her lovely low-cutted beige and brown sweater, she was a star, no doubt and no one around her seemed to be ignorant about that.

At the reception, the staff was different. Now, behind the counter, there was a young woman with tanned skin, brushed with a tight bun, who took back her card with a wide smile and told her a car was waiting for her at the entrance. Taeyeon politely thanked her, hiding she did not have understood most of the words of her perfect English. She had barely guessed it was about a car outside.

A car... When she met face to face with the car in question, she understood Seong Ho never did things in a half and had not been kidding her. The limo waiting in front of the hotel was longer than the one SM sent her when she arrived at the airport. As she greeted the driver busy opening the door for her, she almost wanted to ask if that really was for her or for someone else.

Innocently, Taeyeon thought that she would have a glimpse at the famous avenue des Champs-Elysées and the Trocadéro on the way... In reality, she barely had the time to see the Tour Eiffel from afar but she never even came closer. The limo traced back the avenue George V, jammed with cars and taxis in the morning then it dived into the Avenue de la Grande Armée and once again, she could only grab a quick glimpse at the Arc de Triomphe, one of the strongest Parisian symbols for the foreigners. This time, she was able to see the outside through the smoked glasses of the car and she watched the luxury brands boutiques, passers-by rushing to the subway and on the sidewalks, all remarkably fashionable. It was such a vision of ecstasy since she was in the chic Paris, the one of the well-off family lines and of the oldest traditions.

Avenue Montaigne, she opened wide in front of all the store names, each in an imposing building and rival in beauty and splendour : Dior, Chanel, Chloe, Harry Winston, Max Mara... She did not realize yet she was about to get into that world of sparkle and sequins. From her little place of a Korean Idol, it looked extraordinary because to tell the truth, Taeyeon was not the kind of girl thinking she was important for the world, in opposition with some girls she knew. Deep inside herself, she still was that daydreaming little girl dressed in pajamas with clouds on it, even after she has wore her clothes of the professional girl from the entertainment world.

Seong Ho has settled his Parisian workshop right beside Barbara Bui's, the French-Vietnamese fashion designer. It was located at the second floor of some kind of loft with  high ceilings, angels and cherubs moldings, marbles floor and minimalist decoration, milling about with staff, dress-makers, assistants, photographers, one of them taking pictures of the whole restlessness for a report in a magazine. There even was television cameras for Fashion TV which made Taeyeon feel pretty embarrassed. In the middle of this hubbub, not used to that kind of mood, she was feeling uneasy.

She has been given a champagne cup she didn't want to drink and she has been sat on a white couch while expecting for the "maestro" arrival. Apparently, he wanted to show her the outfit he had chose for her, in person. Yes, the outfit... She had only one, if she understood correctly what the French assistant has gibbered out in English and it intrigued the young woman a lot.

To be honest, at that very moment, she was not sure about she way she felt. Of course, she was excited by the first haute-couture show of her life but she was anxious as well because she was known for her clumsiness and her sometimes lack of delicacy, but also because, even once inside Kim Taeyeon, leader of the SNSD's skin, she was not certain to be worth it all. In front of her, a gorgeous model was walking around and she was feet taller than her, perfect legs, perfect skin and a face with extremely fine features, even without makeup. Her, she was able to reach a result she self-judged as correct after instense seances of "personal amendment" and here was this woman before her eyes, physically perfect in a natural way. There was matter to envy... The report photographer couldn't stop snapping away at the supermodel all the time and she still was smiling, able to remain spontaneous despite the intrusion. Really, Taeyeon was filled with admiration... and some hints of jealousy, even.

It was a flaw which did her a lot of wrong, sometimes. By admiring the others' beauty that much and by comparing it with hers unceasingly, finally the image shown of us could be a misleading. She was boyish, a bit clumsy and awkward but it could let the others suppose she was not into the male . It was not true... and not quite wrong. Not that she was not into boys. She has known just one real love story and since then, the others men couldn't hold the comparison.

"Taeyeon... I'm sorry I made you wait."

She rose her eyes and saw Seong Ho, surrounded by a lot of assistants who were so slender that they looked like models too, dressed in all black. He was wearing frame-only glasses which were highly fashionable in South Korea, a simple checked shirt and black slim jeans. He never had a sophisticated personal style, yet, he was a real fashion genius. Taeyeon really liked that confrontation about him. She leapt on her feet to meet him, a warm smile on her face... He has arrived right on time.

Yes, right on time. Her mind was barely starting to ramble to him, to Junsu. It was dangerous and could made her topple over at any time, to dive her into a hell of whys, of questions and of suffering. The kind of suffering to make you want to tear off your heart. Right on time.

Once in front of her childhood friend, Taeyeon was surprised to see him leaning over to peck her twice on the cheeks, à la française, and she even slightly stepped back, which made Seong Ho's assistants giggle behind him. Once again, she was feeling a bit stupid about her own reactions. Here she was in a foreign country, and even if the guy in front of her eyes was Korean, she had to remember he had been living her for years and might be used to the habits of this receiving land.

The reporter who was snapping away the very beautiful model earlier suddenly came behind her back and started his work... Flashes kept on crackle around Taeyeon's petite body and, in opposition of her brand new colleague of the day, she could hardly behave as herself. She was used to cameras for the TV shows because they knew how to stay discreet and she was rarely the only one to shine... but it was different from this presence unceasingly surrounding her and almost entirely focused on her. Seong Ho grabbed her shoulders and led her to the closest room, separated by two huge opened doors, looking very heavy and as high as the room was.

"You haven't changed at all." He confessed her with an extremely cheerful, almost false voice.

"I don't know if I should take it as a compliment or not..."

Obviously. If she really hadn't changed, it meant she still looked like a the teenager feeling bad about herself, laughing out loud and who liked to hang around with boys of her hometown rather than with girls, who used to climb the trees, to scratch her knees, who refused to wear skirts outside the school uniform one and who never paid attention about her her or waist. In other words, if that was the way she still was, she clearly was unappropriate in a Parisian haute-couture show.

"No, don't be upset. I always thought you was such a pretty girl. That's why I think you haven't changed."

Taeyeon felt her cheeks go purple. She knew Seong Ho was homoual but it was not the compliment which made her feel embarrassed but her own reactions, once again. At least, the good thing of the short conversation was that she has finally forgot about the camera still capturing her every reactions on its film for a while.

"And this is why I kept my most beautiful creation for you. You will walk for the final... You can't imagine how important that part is important for the show, even if you only got one outfit."

"I think I'm starting to envision it." She declared, hiding a slight giggle behind her hand.

"Want to see it, I suppose?"

"Of course... Even if I'm feeling a lot of pressure on me, now."

She wanted to joke, to show she was relaxed. Usually, it never was such a success but this time, it looked like her natural charms were unveiled. Seong Ho has grinned cheerfully, apparently meaning she had nothing to worry about. He looked very confident... but Taeyeon, to be honest, was only half-joking.

Seong Ho snapped his fingers and soon, a big part of her assistants went farther in the room, each of their steps making the wooden floor grind, though the boards were perfectly polished. All there was on this room was a brown leather chair, a full-length mirror and an old workshop table on which stood a crank handle sewing machine which might dated from the beginning of the last century. Awkward room. How many other rooms like this could there be in that workshop?

They came back very quickly, each dealing with what seemed to be an imposing dress single-handedly. Taeyeon didn't see it clearly at first, she barely had the time to notice it was pearl gray and ivory... A flash crackled right before her eyes at the exact moment when the assistants were showing her the outfit, rising it in front of her as if it was some fragile vase the least shake could shatter in pieces.

She had to blink several times to be able to see it clearly, without tiny colorful patches to stick at her retina. And when finally, she saw it, she couldn't hold help her reaction and let open wider than ever. It was a wonder, a true wonder... Even her most beautiful stage outfit was nothing dazzling compared to the dress before her eyes. Will she wear it for real? She couldn't believe it.

Behind her, Seong Ho was showing a proud and satisfied smile. It was the exact kind of reaction he expected. Shy, Taeyeon stepped closer and stretched her hand to the dress, before changing her mind. The dress was made of a bodice, completely encrusted with tiny precious stones shining brightly even under the sun's light going through the window. The rocks formed some kind of elegant triangle which tip stopped a little before the precious silk, of a subtle blue type of ash, let way to a muslin and very fine white feathers skirt, very light... She felt as if, just by brushing it, she could see it disappear under her fingers and she understood effortlessly why the assistants were treating the outfit with so much care and caution.

When she turned around to look at Seong Ho, she could hardly hide her emotion. Tears were sparkling in the corner of her lashes, threatening to drop at any second. Taeyeon was feeling like a little girl... a little girl in front of the most fabulous of all treasures.

"Will I wear it for real? Like... for real?"

"Yes, for real. I made it thinking about you... Thanks to me, you'll finally be the princess that's hiding inside of you."

A princess... Her, the boyish girl? Once again, she looked at the dress... If, rightly, this was able to turn her into a princess, she did not had many illusions. As soon as the show would be over, she would get back into her own skin, the clumsy Kim Taeyeon. And there would be no charming prince to come and rescue her. Even if she kept on thinking she couldn't believe all this was true.

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I'm sorry I didn't update sooner. I completely forgot about my fictions while trying to write a real novel. I hope you guys will keep on reading me and supporting me through subscriptions and comments. Thanks a lot for all that! ♥ I promise the next update will arrive quicker.