iv

Tiffany knew that the room had always been warm. But she suddenly felt cold, so cold that a heavy fur coat could not help her keep the heat. She shivered, inwardly that is. She didn’t know exactly why.

Was it because of the envious eyes of the backup models—waiting for her to make a mistake?

‘She’s going to trip, fall, or get sick. She has got to fail at something.’ Tiffany saw their eyes tell her; amidst the facades of pleasantries, she understood the truth. The fashion industry was never full of loyal friends.

Was it the diamond accessories covering her skin?

‘Diamond is a gem. A crystal. A stone. It’s supposed to be cool. Isn’t it?’ She shook the thought and tried to focus all of her attention at the lenses in front of her.

A side pout. A daring smile. A chic pose. Click.

Or was it the parade of affection coming from the couple working in front of her?

‘You have got to be kidding me. Please, stop those stares. Please. Just. Please.’ She clenched her jaws, trying to feign a smile. ‘Get a room already!’

A suggestive wink. An angled chin. A confident smile. Hands on her hips. And the sound of endless shutters danced into her ears once again.

And like the pro that she is, she don her mask on. The sophisticated mask. The cute mask. The y mask. The innocent mask. Any emotion, any act, that the photographer asked, she willingly gave. The world behind the camera is her kingdom to rule. After all, she is Tiffany Hwang, one of the most sought after models in the industry. She’s on top of her game.

And as always, she looked pretty. She looked elegant. This glamorous world was her childhood dream. And maybe, it still is. But why does she feel so cold now?

 “Okay!” The male photographer lowered his camera, content painted all over his face as he browsed on the pictures he took. “We’re done for the day. Pack up, guys!” He ordered the staffs.

The female photographer, on the other hand, extended her hand to her. “Thank you, Ms. Hwang. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Oh, the honor’s all mine.” Tiffany took the hand and shook it. “Thank you for making me look pretty for the magazine cover.” Her other hand covering her lips as she chuckled.

“Ah! Always the humble one, are we?” The man teased Tiffany while grabbing his partner’s waist closer to his. “Anyway, we’ll just send your management a copy of the shots so you can pick which ones you’d like to send the editors.”

“Oh, thank you.” Her eyes arched into crescents. [If only he knew it was to avoid actually seeing him give a peck on his partner’s cheek…] “Well then, I’ll get going.”

She hastily exited the set, went to her dressing room and changed clothes, a thick jacket on her body, her hands on her side-pockets as she made her way to the parking lot. She just wanted to go home and warm herself.

‘Why is it so darn cold?’ Tiffany clicked her tongue. It was bothering her. The coldness was suffocating her.

She almost ran inside her Chevrolet, waving at her manager not to follow her. She wanted to be unaccompanied. But not lonely.

She breathed out. Everyone wanted a piece of her. She wanted a piece of them, something she has not gotten yet. And so, she felt cold; so, so, cold.

Tiffany buckled her seatbelts on and drove out of the building as fast as she can. She really wanted to go home. But where is home? The condo she lived alone in? Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. 

A deep exhalation escaped her. ‘Nope. Not there.’ She parked her car on a side street near a park, got down and decided to have a walk. She didn’t want to go to her unit. Not yet at least. Not in that state.

She tucked her hands on her side pockets and took a stroll in the empty park. It didn’t matter if it was already late. She just wanted to clear her mind so she opted to walk. Maybe it’ll do the trick. It used to do the trick.

She followed the trail the lit lamp posts had and she came to a halt when she saw someone familiar. A girl wearing a black trench coat and jeans stood alone, looking so contemplative—her hands also buried inside her pockets.

Tiffany creased her eyebrows. ‘Isn’t that…Tae…yeon?’ The kind girl who had helped her in the club—Taeyeon Kim as she introduced. Even as she faced her back, Tiffany recognized her. ‘Fancy meeting her here. Of all times, why do I always see her when I’m in this troubled state?’

Tiffany unknowingly smiled. There was a feeling of relief she couldn’t fathom much. Was it because they mirror each other’s image? Thick coats. Hands on their side pockets. In deep thoughts. Alone.

She saw Taeyeon huff and turn around—only to face her with an expression of someone who had made a tough resolve. Tiffany didn’t know what to do. Taeyeon looked like she was a lost puppy, fleeing—from something she’d rather not ask, yet. But seeing her in that condition made her feel somewhat sad. She wanted to comfort her. And, as if an instinct, she asked her the question she had for herself.

“Going home?”

“I can stay.” It was a fast ecstatic reply. Raw. Unprocessed. Real. Everything that Tiffany don’t usually get from the people she works with. “If you want me to, I can stay.” And she saw the angelic smile form on Taeyeon’s lips.

A brief comfortable silence followed. Each, with a stifled giggle on their lips. Each, trying to sense each other’s wants and needs.

“Uhm, ah.” Taeyeon rubbed the back of her head, trying to get some form of courage to start a conversation. “Sorry about that. Ahahaha. Sometimes, I get excited too much.” Her head slanted on the side as she gave a wide grin; her weight slightly shifting from the ball of her feet to its tips and vice versa. “Is this the part where I ask you if you want to have coffee with me?”

Tiffany let go of the chortle she had tried to keep. Taeyeon was being too adorable she couldn’t help it. “Uhm, yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah. Coffee’s good, Ms. Kim.” Smokes of white came out of Tiffany’s mouth as she spoke.

‘Coffee. Coffee is good.’ Tiffany is sure, she definitely felt warm.

“So,” Jessica sat at the foot of Tiffany’s bed, the latter completely covered with the blanket. “I know you can hear me so just stay still and l