I’m blind to the loud flashes before me. I’m no longer blinking from the bright white lights directed at me. I stare intently into the lens, almost catching my own reflection in the clear glass before the photographer moves to another position in a swift movement.

“Another one.”

I shift according to the voice that controls my movement. He takes another shot, immensely engrossed in the mannequin living inside his camera, porcelain skin, glassy eyes, rose-red lips and an expression from a faraway dimension— my other form when the real me takes a break from the real world.

There’s only the two of us inside this white walled studio. Every time he clicks the camera, the batter of the shutter echoes in the confined space. I quite like that sound. It’s crisp and clear and strangely calming. Compared to when I first came here, everything seems more familiar and less intimidating—including the guy holding the camera in front of me right now. It’s always him who takes shots of me but I’m glad the photographers don’t change often. I took quite a long time to get used to him, especially his eyes. They still intimidate me sometimes.

I feel strange calling him Top even though he tells me to address him that way so I decided to just call him ‘Hyung’. I guess I do need another Hyung in my life, haha.

The work I’m receiving is constantly increasing and I’m not even worried that they will affect my studies. I just want to make sure I’m extremely occupied so that I won’t think of silly things like when Yongguk Hyung is going to come back into my life—even though I know he won’t ever come back anymore.

I see Top Hyung more often than I see Mom. A few days ago Mom finally called me, apologizing for not calling me for such a long period of time due to her busy schedule but nevertheless, I couldn’t miss the happiness in her tone as she spoke and rattled on about her life which I’m no longer part of. I smiled at the receiver and acknowledged her every word. I’m happy for her.

But what scares me is that I didn’t feel a sense of excitement and happiness when she called. And it wasn’t because I was upset about her call long overdue. It was because I was all upset and miserable about Hyung’s words, telling me to never appear in front of him ever again.

Those words sting and I don’t even understand why Hyung would say them.

But he did say it.

The last flash of the camera went off and I got dragged back from my daydream with a snap of a finger.

“We’re finished.”

Top Hyung peers up from behind his glasses as he adjusts his camera, giving me an inquiring look while I stand rooted in the white backdrop.

“O-oh.”

Every time the last flash of the camera fades away and the echoes of the shutter ease itself away, I go back to being the Zelo I’ve always been, the boy who sits in the corner of the classroom and never speaks up, the one who is always alone.

And even more alone now.

I step out of the backdrop, brushing pass the other models who are having their photoshoot after me. The noonas always smile at me and treat me well because I’m the youngest around here. I go into the changing room and starts taking off my clothes as I kick off my shoes. I reach up to get my own clothes before realizing that my shirt is missing from the hanger. I frown.

Not again.

I put on my pants and peek my head out of the room, glancing around as I let out a tired sigh.

“Hyung.”

I sigh again.

“Give me back my shirt please.”

I wait for the response as I count to three and there he is, the one who always hides my clothes.

“Hmm, maybe next time I should take your pants. You don’t seem disturbed at all.”

“Hyung, stop playing.”

I snatch my shirt from his hands and put it on. He has an unimpressed expression on his face as he stands before me with his arms crossed.

“Why so serious, Zelo? Looks like next time I really got to steal the pants.”

Jongin is also one of the youngest models here and he came in with through the same way as me—the strange flamboyant lady. I was impressed with his professionalism and admired his way in front of the camera and was surprised by his willingness to make friends with me. But he’s still kind of annoying.

I pick up my sneakers and plop myself down on one of the chairs in the changing room, the sounds of camera and chatters outside segregated from us. Jongin Hyung strolls over in his orange sneakers and stands in front of me, flipping a magazine. I ignore him and continue tying my shoelaces.

“Where is it…” He mumbles to himself as the flipping of pages grows more rapid. “Ah, there. Here it is.” He holds out the magazine to me and I travel up his lengthy legs to a page of dark background.

“Why?” I receive the magazine from his hands as he raises an eyebrow at me. I glance down at the page.

“You don’t even know you’re on the mag?”

I was lost for words for seconds before I stutter out a surprised answer. “N-no. I don’t know… H-how?”

Even though I’ve been taking many photoshoots lately, they’ve all been really small ones reserved for advertisement pages and spots where newbies take. But this one, I’m in the center of the magazine. I gawk for seconds before flipping onto the next page, surprised to see myself yet again, this time with Jongin Hyung beside me.

“Wow. Top Hyung didn’t say anything when we took this photo.”

“Hmm. And you didn’t even realize you were wearing those sponsored clothing.”

This is a huge leap for me, to have actually progressed so much and so quickly.

Jongin sits on the dressing table beside me, swinging his legs.

“Hyung, is this for real?”

He smiles at me. “What do you think? Well, I’m inside there too.”

Happiness swells inside my chest. Even though I didn’t enter this job for