A smile graced my face as I snapped the laptop shut. I had already planned out my first outfit post with these cute beige and frosted blue Constellation slippers I had designed; the photos were saved on my desktop already.

In the photos, I was walking along a small street in Seoul, near an abandoned shop. The scenery was beautiful, with overgrown grass and crumbling signs. My toes were slightly pointed to give a better view of the shoes. Bangles and charms twinkled on my right arm, and a gold wrist cuff adorned my left wrist. Of course, the promise bracelet was clasped firmly onto my right wrist.

Last, but not least, I had slipped into a comfortable olive green parka. It had a drawstring around the waist, which I tightened to accentuate my waist and create a dramatic silhouette.

I debated on what to call my post; my teeth nibbled at my lip as I swiped open my cell phone.

"Hey, Boyun!" Cho Boyun was my best blogger friend; she was a year older than me, with gorgeous black hair and delicate features that made her beauty review blog immensely popular. Even though her posts were sponsored by gifts from major fashion companies, her plush pink lips and gleaming eyes drew readers in until they had read every single post on her blog. An endorsement from Boyun could sell out a product in less than 24 hours!

"Wearing the shoes I designed for LeBunny Bleu!" Boyun laughed. There was the sound of something steaming in the background - Boyun was probably trying out the steam hair curler she recieved last month to review, "Do you think I should go for romantic curls?"

"Heck no!" I cried. That blog title just sounded so arrogant.

"To what?" Boyun's voice was a little distant.

"To the blog title, what else?" I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, okay. Well, should I do romantic curls?" Boyun asked after a pause.

"Hmm, I guess that would work. It's the springtime, anyway, a romantic style would be fine." I replied, placing the phone on speaker and frantically typing in titles.

When people looked at my blog, they only saw that ten million people looked at my latest post. They didn't see the hour I spent brainstorming blog titles, or the four hours it took to take enough high-quality pictures. People didn't see how I would hunch over in front of my laptop, with packets of tea and takeout strewn about me as I pondered the perfect phrasing for a blog post. Contrary to popular belief, it took a lot of time and effort for me to write a spectacular blog post, complete with impeccably unique styling and vintage jewelry.

Some days, I would be completely uninspired. I would lounge around in a pair of leggings and graphic T-shirt, my fingers searching up for fashion tips online so that I could become inspired and style another Mirae outfit. I would go up and down in this cycle of sudden inspiration and utter dejection; it was hard to be constantly inspired in fashion. I couldn’t help but think that I had already done something like this before, or that this was horribly outdated, or something like that.

"I saw your post the other day," My eyes darted to my cell phone. the colorful 'hip' cover, I brought it to my ear again.

"Sorry, what did you say again?"

"The post where you paired a boxy, crop top and a tea-length skirt?" Boyun repeated, "I think that the baby doll heels are cute, but the ankle strap really shortens your legs. Maybe pumps would work better? Or cutout wedges, for an edgier look."

"I guess." I hummed, as I sipped my tea, "I was really trying to channel an American style in that post." My voice sounded slightly whiny, and I grimaced.

"I know." Boyun agreed. There was a clattering in the background, "Shoot! My curling rolls!"

"What happened?" I asked, nodding at my new clever title.

"My rolls are too hot! I must have them on the steamer for too long."

"That stinks." I pursed my lips, "Are you okay?"

"Yep!" Boyun exclaimed, "Anyway, back to you blog. I'm not saying that your fashion choices are bad; you know that I love your blog. I loved how you styled that bomber jacket two days ago; that was so chic.!"

"Haha, thanks." I replied. My eyes suddenly darted to the clock - shoot! I was supposed to meet 2PF's cameraman in fifteen minutes, and I was no where near ready yet!

"Sorry, Boyun, I have to go. I'm going to be late for something! Talk to you later?" I hung up the phone and grabbed my makeup bag. Unfortunately, it had been opened, and half the things that used to be in it were now strewn about random places in my apartment. Grr.

I brushed my red locks quickly, then applied orange-red lip shimmer, eyeliner, eyeshadows, and mascara. I decided to put on a lot of eyeshadow, going for a very edgy look. It was too late for me to smear on any foundation or BB cream; they were still in my bathroom, across the apartment. Good thing my skin was naturally pale and smooth; I didn't really need it.

Should I dress in ulzzang fashion today? With a nod, I pulled out a leather skater skirt and a blouse. Slipping on my favorite shoes - YSL cage heels - I stumbled out of the door. Hopefully, what I had on was edgy enough for my image.

Right before I exited, I peeked at the mirror - perfect. I smiled one last time at my reflection, and then dashed for the bus stop.

.

I walked into the small cafe, my eyes darting around. I had ended up being five minutes early, and the cameraman had probably not arrived yet. Plopping myself down near the window, I pulled out my phone to look at the details of the meeting again.

So, 2PF and I had collaborated on a jewelry line that I had called 'The Promise' in a fit of gushy sentimentality. The whole concept of the jewelry line was incredibly sentimental, evoking the terms 'love' 'promise' 'respect' and 'trust'.

This was because I had been in the thores of a relationship with Lay when I had concieved the idea.

Lay wasn't funny in the way the class clown was funny - his humor was natural, and unintentional. He was silly and forgetful; he would lose all of the card games I played with him, and he sometimes forgot the directions to the restaurant we went to about fifty times, but the expressions on his face made giggles bubble from my throat. I was never angry at him; I could never stop laughing in the presence of Lay, and he would laugh along with me.

However, I knew that Lay had gone through some hard times in life; he said that he had danced years ago with SHINee, a group that used to be very popular in Korea. Sometimes a shadow would fall into his eyes, and he wouldn't say anything for a long, long time. It was as if he was frozen.

I learned that during those nights, the best thing to do was to gently murmur in his ear and slip in an old movie. I would cuddle on the couch with him, and Lay would slowly begin to thaw, his arm lopping around my shoulders as we watched the credits roll down the screen. Sometimes I would play the flute for him, even though I had quit my lessons years ago. He would smile and compliment me on my skills, and my ears would burn because I knew that I wasn't that great of a musician.

My apartment had been stocked with snack foods, even though I had a bad reaction to gluten, because I knew that Lay liked eating them. I made sure that sharp objects were clean and placed in the appropriate places, since Lay had a blood coagulation problem. There was a drawer of his things at my place, and his favorite mug had a permanent residence in my cupboard.

I was actually planning to give the key to my 'Promise' bracelet to Lay. I would hide the key in an obscure place, tell him everything about the bracelet so he'd understand the significance, and write a few clues to help him find it. The clues would lead him to the park, to the library, to the restaurant - it would be like reliving our life together, and at the end, I would be waiting. When I imagined it, it was beautiful and perfect.

Then, right before 2PF unveiled the 'Promise' bracelet, Lay got an offer to be a producer in China; he had submitted some original work to the movie company, and they were so impressed, they wanted him to produce the next best-selling movie.

It had been his dream to be a producer; he would sometimes tell me about the ideas he had in his head, the people he wanted to work with. I would smile, and tell him that I supported him, because he supported me and my blogging.

In fact, Lay and I created a section in my blog devoted to short films we would make together. I would convince my friends to star in the movies, and Lay would produce them. His face would always light up and his eyes sparkled even more than they did usually ... the urge to kiss him would constantly nag at me when he was producing, but the look of concentration on his face was too cute to wipe off.

So when Lay got the offer, I told him to take it. We were dining at our favorite restaurant, seated in a private table in the back. The moonlight cast shadows over Lay's face; he looked like an angel.

"Are you sure? I have to move to Shanghai for this, and I know you're busy modelling and designing here in Korea." My blog had started to skyrocket in popularity, and mo