Minho had brought Sungjong to a café, sat him down, and pushed a cup of hot chocolate, complete with white marshmallows floating on top, into his hand. He had spoken to him softly, coaxing the story out of him. It hadn’t been easy to talk about it – Sungjong could still hear Woohyun and Taemin’s acidic voices in his head. The warm drink had calmed him down significantly but that didn’t mean he was not angry. When he saw Minho get out of his car, he’d thrown himself at him. Minho hadn’t missed a beat, quickly engulfing him in a comforting hug, his hand rubbing his back soothingly. All his restraints had broken free and tears had gushed out.

He hated being so emotionally vulnerable but he couldn’t help being the person he was. It was a constant push and pull inside him, his strong and weak sides fighting it out constantly. There was a time when none of it would have touched him, but it seemed that the more he had learned to care, the worse it had gotten for him.

In a way, I was better off when I didn’t feel much.

There was a time, at University, where he had made some bad choices; but it hadn’t been as bad as Woohyun and Taemin made it sound like. Had they made up those lies or was it true that someone had been feeding them stories about his past - horribly twisted tales of his wild times? Who would do something like that? There was no one he knew from University at the office, no one who could have known him or even heard of him – except Myungsoo of course. But Myungsoo wouldn’t…would he?

He won’t stoop this low. Besides, he doesn’t know how I spent my time in college.

Unfortunately, it did sound like the kind of lies someone would make up to get revenge on the person. And when it came to revenge, he could only think of Myungsoo.

No, it’s not him…it’s not…he’s got his revenge already.

Patting him gently on the head, Minho said, “There are some people who are so insecure that they have to make fun of other people to feel a little bit of self-worth. Unfortunately, they are all around us. It’s best to ignore them.”

Sungjong blinked, dabbing his eyes with the handkerchief Minho had offered.

“I know, I just couldn’t control it. Why do they have to be so mean to me? Why me, of all people?”

Smiling, Minho extended his hand and took Sungjong’s in his, squeezing lightly. His touch was like morphine; for a moment, Sungjong felt relieved of all sorts of pain. A warm, fuzzy sensation bubbled in his stomach, like Christmas was near.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? They are jealous of you.”

It sounded nice but he couldn’t believe him.

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

Cocking his head to one side, Minho raised an eyebrow.

“Do you I have to spell it out for you? Because you’re perfect and they are not.”

Caught by surprise at the sudden compliment, he lowered his head, blushing. The thing was, when Minho said it, it didn’t sound like a cheap pick-up line or a well-rehearsed pick-me-up one-liner; it seemed like he really meant it. Butterflies in his stomach and cheeks red, he felt like a teenager.

This is embarrassing. Can I grow up now?

“You are just saying that,” he mustered after minutes, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his cheeks between his palms so that the red tint on them didn’t show.

Leaning forward, Minho flicked his finger across Sungjong’s nose.

“I mean every word. I have a policy – don’t say it if you don’t mean it. And right now, you’re the most adorable thing ever, counting the cute bunnies they are using for decoration over there.”

That was the cue for Sungjong’s legs to go jelly; it was a good thing he was sitting down. He wanted this to last forever - Minho’s mellow voice filling his ears, making him forget about all the dark slabs of memory, vials of pain, and whatever shadows the future held for him. Even the constant stinging pain of rejection was numbed, which he was immensely thankful for.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to give up but…they won’t stop until I quit.” He looked at the man pleadingly, hoping he would understand his decision.

“They will, once they see your picture in the fall collection issue.”

Frowning, he asked the executive editor to repeat himself; he wasn’t sure he had heard him right.

“I want you, Lee Sungjong,” he pointed at him, “as the model for the exclusive jeans collection I’m designing.”

He was too stumped to speak but Minho continued to talk about how he thought he would be the perfect model, how he had everything he needed – most of it didn’t make any sense to him. There was a bit of jargon there as well, which made it clear to Sungjong that the man was being completely serious.

This is crazy…me, a model?

His elbows slipped off the table and he was very sure his jaws were slackened. He probably looked too stupid for the camera right now but Minho didn’t seem to mind. He continued to lay down his plans about how he wanted everything to revolve around Sungjong, from the actual clothes to the lighting to the photshoot.

It was common knowledge that people trained for ages to be on the pages of Star Magazine. They only hired the top models with years and years of experience and fame. And here was Minho, telling him that he wanted Sungjong to be the sole model for a whole collection?

This is crazy.

Finally, when Sungjong had gotten his senses back, he refused him, as politely as he could; modeling was not for him and he was not at the age to start something like this. In his youth, he had heard many comments about how his face was always camera-ready and how he had the celebrity flair in him. He had believed them then, being the vain, pompous airhead he had been. Swimming in an ocean of compliments, he would regularly strike poses in front of mirrors and cameras, then look at the pictures for hours, admiring himself. The praises he had received from the people around him had inflated his already airy, giant head and he had gone on to become an ‘ulzzang’, an internet celebrity of sorts, solely because he had taken pouty selfies of himself in nice clothing, claiming a tiny domain of netizens as his ‘fans’.

It was revolting.

But he had grown out of it all. He had realized the importance of inner beauty and the shallowness of outer beauty. It had taken him a couple of mistakes to get things right, but at least he was in the right now. Granted, it was too late, but better late than never. Maybe he would be able to spend the rest of his life in a decent way.

So now, he didn’t want anything to do with the media. He said as much to Minho, who only shook his head. Then he went on to explain how being a model didn’t mean he was shallow, how it was another job just like any other entertainer.

“You can bring happiness to people Sungjong, and as for me, I’ll be the happiest.” Minho blinked rapidly, biting his lips slightly. “You’re the muse I need, and this could be my greatest work. I want you to be a part of it, not because you’re my friend, but because you deserve to.”

It was difficult to say no when he phrased it like that. Besides, the eagerness and enthusiasm in Minho’s eyes were genuine. Sungjong reminded himself that Minho wouldn’t do anything that would hurt him; he had grown to trust the man.

“I don’t know the first thing about being a model,” he admitted hesitantly.

Minho brushed him off, saying that he would take care of it.

“You won’t be alone in this, I promise I’ll be there. And if you hate it, we’ll stop right away, okay? Just try it at least.”

Well in that case, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Finally, he gave his consent. Overjoyed, the executive editor wanted to celebrate right away. He was already making plans when Sungjong reminded him that he had to go back to work.

“Right, let’s go back, shall we? I’ll have a little chat with Mr. Chief Editor. And Sungjong, don’t let dumb and dumber get to you. I work with Taemin, and frankly he’s pathetic. You can fight this, hmm?”

Sungjong nodded, feeling that he owed it to Minho to not give up now, after the man had spent so much time helping him.

Once they reached the office, Minho said he would keep him updated and headed towards his room while Sungjong went to his, feeling trepidation in his gut. Woohyun looked up, smirking, when he entered.

“So the cat has crawled back home. I’m going to report you for walking out like that, you know.”

Settling at his desk, he lowered his head, going back to his work. He wouldn’t let Woohyun get to him and that meant ignoring the elder thoroughly. So even when the PA made a few other snappy remarks, he blocked the sound out of his mind, concentrating hard on his work. It wasn’t easy, but he tried his best. Bored with the lack of response, Woohyun stopped at one point, going back to what little work he had.

“Hey tramp, the boss wants to see you after lunch,” the PA called from across the room, hanging up the phone.

If the rest of the sentence was not so important, Sungjong would have not ignored being called a tramp. He blinked nervously – why would Myungsoo want to see him all of a sudden. Had Woohyun reported him already?

Oh shoot, what am I going to say? Is he going to fire me?

He shuddered involuntarily. His heart shrunk - he wasn’t ready for another meeting with the elder, not after he remembered that incident from Saturday night. How would he face him after what had happened? With his heart hammering, he remembered the jacket sitting in his bag – Myungsoo’s to be exact, the one he had left at his flat. He didn’t have the guts to return them even though he had brought it along with him. His plan was to leave it in his room once he left the office.

But now it seemed he would have another opportunity to hand it back to him and maybe even thank him, for taking him home. He knew Minho meant well but for some reason, he didn’t believe the older man’s accusations of Myungsoo. Hadn’t the editor proved that he could be caring at times, like the time when he had given him a lift?

“Sungjong?”

He started at the sudden mention of his name, the pencil slipped out of his fingers.

“M-minho hyung?”

The executive editor, who was standing in front of his desk, flashed him a smile, extending a paper packet towards him. He looked at him in askance.

“Just a little something for you, thought a nice pastry would make you feel less pasty.”

“Oh, oh I…” Sungjong was grateful for the kindness but he could feel Woohyun’s glaring eyes on them. Cocking his head a little, he tried to see what the PA was doing – sure enough, his eyes were locked on them.

Minho’s eyes followed his, to where Woohyun was sitting. When their eyes met, the PA put on a fake smile and bowed slightly.

“Woohyun,” Minho called out in a cheerful voice, “how are you?” Then, without waiting for an answer, he continued, “I heard you are quitting.”

The PA looked startled.

“Who said that? I’ve never even thought about leaving the company...”

“Really? Ah, it must be a stupid rumour then. You know how rumors are like, right? Mostly false, spread by idiots who have nothing better to do. So don’t you worry about it.” He winked at him, causing Woohyun to look even more confused. Putting down the packet on Sungjong’s table, Minho walked up to the PA’s desk, his hands in his pockets. “Doesn’t do us any good, does it, spreading and listening to rumors?”

Gulping visibly, Woohyun shook his head from side to side.

“Alright, have a nice day. Bye, Sungjong.”

The assistant PA was in awe at what just happened. Did Minho just very subtly forbid Woohyun to spread rumours about Sungjong?

---

When Sungjong entered the room, he stood close to the door, not coming forward. Myungsoo asked him to sit down, not looking at him directly. The younger obeyed, looking at his knees.

It was evident that he was uncomfortable and frankly speaking, Myungsoo was not completely at ease either. Of course Saturday night was fresh in his mind, but it wasn’t just that. He had made a big decision today, two actually, and both of them were strangely related to Sungjong. Which was why he had to see his assistant PA.

But both were ways of him letting go of his past.

Well, here goes.

Clearing his throat, he started, “Minho tells me you agreed to work as his model.”

Sungjong flinched, biting his lips. Stammering, he replied, “I – I said I’ll try it o-out.”

“Well, Minho thinks you have what it takes. I don’t. You’re not model material.” He paused, waiting to watch the younger’s reaction. For some reason, it seemed like Sungjong agreed with him. That was not right – he wanted to hurt the younger, make him feel inferior, like he had before.

How’s the taste of your own pills?

“But since Minho insists and he brought up all these rules about artistic freedom, I’ve decided to give it a chance.”

No doubt surprised, the younger looked up, his face pale.

“However, you can’t quit your job as my assistant PA. You’ll get time off accordingly, but you have to carry out your usual duties. This is still your first job, understand?”

“I – yes.”

“And your little modeling skit, it’ll be restricted to Minho’s jeans collection only. So don’t go off dreaming about being a superstar – this will be your first and last chance.”

He checked to see if Sungjong was disappointed but he couldn’t tell from his face. Did he really not want to be a model?

He wasn’t absolutely sure why he was putting all these restrictions around Sungjong’s modeling career. It wasn’t that he didn’t want him to succeed; that would be petty. What he was afraid of were the other things that came with success, things that Sungjong could not necessarily handle; because from his experience, he could tell that the younger was pretty easily swayed by good—looking people. As a model, Sungjong would probably make all the wrong decisions.

Why do I care about him so much though?

I just don’t want a disaster in my hands – he told himself.

“And listen to me, you better take this seriously. If this collection fails, I’ll make you pay, I swear.”

Nodding his head slowly, Sungjong looked like he was ready to faint. He was being harsh with him, warning him that he would be responsible for this project even though there wasn’t much he could do. It was his way of getting savage pleasure out of the situation actually, and he didn’t care if it made him seem spiteful. He deserved revenge.

Right now, I’m feeling so many conflicting emotions that I might just explode.

“That’s all,” he finished, feeling drained by the conversation, even though it should be the opposite. “You may leave.”

“Yes, sir.” Sungjong got up from his seat, bowing low. Then he reached to his side. Zipping open a bag, he seemed to be rummaging inside for something. Finally, he straightened back, a black folded jacket in his hands. His hands trembling, he offered it to Myungsoo with another bow and a small whisper of “thank you.”

Myungsoo’s face changed color. He was trying his best to pretend that Saturday night hadn’t happened but right here was the proof that Sungjong knew, he probably recalled everything. He reached out for the jacket with a straight face, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

The younger turned around to take his leave when Myungsoo said, as calmly as he could, “Be careful of Minho. Take care of yourself.”

He could see the confusion in the younger’s face but he just had to do it. It wasn’t his habit to share with others what he thought of the executive editor, but Sungjong being Minho’s model would mean that they would spend time together. If he knew Minho, the man would not give up, not when Sungjong was so naïve. The least he could do was to warn the younger, because…

Because?

When it came to the younger, Myungsoo barely knew himself. And that was why he needed to end it here, before it drove him insane.

He dialed a number on his phone, tapping his finger on the table.

“Hello, Myungsoo?”

“Hey mom, are you free on Friday?”

“Do I not even get a ‘how are you?’ you haven’t called us in weeks!”

Sighing, Myungsoo asked after his parents perfunctorily. He asked his mom if she had heard from his brother, Munsoo, who was in the States currently, getting his graduate degree. His mom answered in the negative. Once the small talk was over and he had spoken a few words with his father, he repeated the first question.

“Why?” his mom demanded.

“I’ll go shopping. I’ll need you for a second opinion.”

“You need my opinion?” Mrs. Kim scoffed. “Aren’t you the expert?”

Huffing, Myungsoo replied, “This is something else.”

“What is it?”

She can be so annoying sometimes.

When Mrs. Kim persisted, he had no choice but to tell her.

“Ring, ring, ring! I need to buy a ring, happy now? Will you help me or not?”

Sound of giggling erupted on the line.

“You’re getting married!”

“I’ll see you on Friday.” He disconnected the call quickly, before his mom could say anything else.

His parents had known about his affection for Sungjong and had disapproved of it. They had kept on insisting that he had been going through a phase. Ever since then, his relationship with his parents had been laced with cracks. Even when he had started dating Jiyeon and his parents had been overjoyed, there was still no progress, mainly because he couldn’t forgive his parents for being homophobes. But there was something else as well, something that had particularly earned his disfavor – it was the time when they had insulted Sungjong, warning him to stay clear of their house and calling him vile names, blaming him for ‘infecting’ their sons. Myungsoo and Munsoo had protected him back then, and they had both become bitter with their parents.

Even now, Myungsoo couldn’t forgive them, especially since they had never admitted that they had been wrong to treat Sungjong like that. He had never brought it up but it still mattered to him. Even if he hated Sungjong now, it mattered to him.

Because…

Just because…