Primary Song: Super Junior D&E- Sweater and Jeans

Genre: Some romance, fluff

Characters: Kris/ Female OC (Kwon Sora), a bunch of random OCs I made up for this

The hot Californian sun beat down on me, forming large beads of perspiration on my forehead and the the back of my neck. I slurped my slushie which was nothing more than colored juice at this point.

“It’s so hot,” my friend, James, complained. I was too lazy to agree. We were sitting in front of one of the many restaurants lining the popular boardwalk at the beach. At this time of year, when school’s out, most kids who aren’t going anywhere for vacation came here to hang out. Add in the multitude of tourists and you’ve got a sweltering pot of people in one place.

“You know what else is hot?” Conor, my other friend, said. We looked at him questioningly. He smirked. “All these babes walking around in their bikinis.”

While James high-fived him, I rolled my eyes and stared off at the rolling waves crashing onto the sandy beach.

“What, don’t you agree, Kevin?” James nudged me.

“I told you, it’s Kris, now,” I informed him for the nth time.

“Right. Sorry, I forgot.”

Creases formed on Conor’s forehead. “I never understood why one year abroad made you change your name,” he mused.

“Yeah,” James added, furrowing his eyebrows, “why is that?” They both looked at me expectantly, but I looked back at the crowd.

“It’s a long story,” was all I said before taking a sip of my drink. Disgusted by its artificial taste, I got up to throw it away in the nearest trashcan.

That’s when I saw her.

Immediately, I knew she was a tourist because she didn’t have the familiar tan most native Californians had and she wasn’t wearing her swimsuit with a sundress over it. Not to mention she looked Asian- my best bet was Korean- and glancing every so now and then to her phone and back up to her surroundings, probably trying to find her way around.

I decided to help her out. As I approached her, I heard my friends call for me, wondering where I was going, before hollering, “Yeah! You go get her, Kris!” I glared back at them, motioning for them to cut it out, and because I wasn’t paying attention, I ended up crashing into the girl.

“Oh, sorry,” I apologized as I stared down at her. Although she was much taller than the average Asian woman, she was still at least half a foot shorter than me.

“It’s okay,” she forgave me, nodding her head slightly as an apology of her own. I detected an Asian accent, for sure. She must be a FOB, otherwise known as Fresh Off the Boat. Except, I suppose nowadays it should be FOA for Fresh Off the Airplane.

“I couldn’t help but notice you looked a little lost, and I’d be more than happy to help,” I told her, but her panicked eyes and parted mouth told me she didn’t understand what I said.

I repeated in Chinese, both Mandarin and Cantonese, but the lack of response from her made me worried. Please let her be Korean. I don’t know much Japanese, and I don’t know any other Asian language. Finally, I tried my luck in Korean, “Are you Korean?”

A wave of relief washed over her face. “You’re Korean too?” she excitedly asked, but at the shake of my head, she looked a little dejected.

“I’m Chinese,” I admitted, “but I know Korean.” Her eyes lit up.

“That’s such a relief. I have no idea how to get back to my hotel, and I’m so scared about asking someone because I don’t know enough English,” she confessed.

“I can help you go back to your hotel,” I offered.

“Really?” She seemed shock, as if she wasn’t expecting that. She probably wasn’t.

“Yeah, where is it?”

She was staying at a small motel, one of the many in this area, but thankfully she knew where it was; she just didn’t know how to get there. I waved goodbye to my friends and told them to text me later, and ignored their shouts of “Go get her, tiger!” and more idiotic stuff as I led the girl to the main street where I’d try to catch a taxi.

Unfortunately for me, it seemed as though all the ones that came our way were all occupied. Scratching behind my ear in embarrassment after the fourth taxi whizzed on by, I stepped back to where she was standing patiently.

“Sorry, all of the taxis seem full,” I told her.

She nodded in understanding and peered past me to the many cars driving by. “I’ll try,” she said as she stepped out into the street and shouted, “TAXI!”

By some miracle, a taxi actually screeched to a stop in front of her. I gaped at the car and the girl who was cheerfully opening the door. “You coming?” she asked over her shoulder.

Grumbling incomprehensible things to myself, I followed her inside the small vehicle. “You know,” I began as the driver joined the flow of traffic on the road, “I never got your name.”

“Kwon Sora,” she introduced, smiling. “And your name is…?”

Which one do you want? I have many, I thought drily to myself. “Kris Wu,” I decided to say my newest English name.

She nodded her head in that small, understanding way. “Have you lived here for long?” she asked.

“Nearly my entire life. I’m guessing you’re new to America, though.”

“How do you know?” She looked shocked at my correct assumption.

“You just don’t look American,” I grinned. “What brings you here?”

“I got relocated because of my job.”

She didn’t seem old enough to have a job that’d transfer her across the ocean. “Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m a model,” she said shyly. My eyes nearly popped out. I’ve always wanted to be a model!

“What? You’re joking!” But as I took another look at her, I could see it. She was somewhat on the tall side, and she looked like the typical Asian beauty most people wish they were.

Sora laughed, “Most people have that reaction when I tell them that. But it’s true.” She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her bag and opened it up. It was a cutout from a Korean magazine, advertising the latest fashions, and staring up at me from the paper was Sora herself.

“You carry around a picture of you from a magazine? How humble,” I teased.

Thankfully, she wasn’t offended. “I only carry it around as proof of my modeling career,” she explained, still laughing. She folds it back up and tucks it back into her bag.

“So, what’s it like being a model?” I was curious to know.

“It’s fun trying on different and sometimes outrageous clothing, and I love working with unique concepts, but it can be so tiring sometimes. Photoshoots usually take at least 4 hours to finish, sometimes more.”

“Wow.” I blinked. “Now I’m not so sure if I want to become a model anymore.”

“You want to become a model?” Sora leaned back a little, scanning me up to down. “Hmm..” She cocked her head to the side as she contemplated something.

“What?”

“You’re actually pretty good model material.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “What? How do you know that?”

“I’ve been in this business for over 15 years now. I know what good model material is,” she said, crossing her arms. 15 years?! She’s been a model for 15 years?!

“When did you start modeling?”

Sora thought for a moment. “When I was around...6? I started as a kid model.”

Whoa. “So, you think I’d make a good model?” I asked again for confirmation.

“Yeah, I think you would.”

I grinned. “What makes you think that? Is it my good looks? My height? My jawline?” I pretended to be cocky, striking ridiculous pose with each question. Sora giggled and shook your head.

“I’d answer that, but I’m afraid your ego would inflate too much,” she joked. She then became a little bit more serious when she said, “If you’d like, I could bring you over to my photoshoot tomorrow, and maybe introduce you to the director.”

Would I like this? Heck yeah I would! “Are you serious?”

Sora raised an eyebrow. “Why would I be joking about it?”

She had a point. “If it isn’t too much trouble for you, I’d love that,” I admitted. By then, the cab had arrived at Sora’s motel, and we got off after paying the driver.

“Give me your phone,” she demanded, and I handed it over to her. She punched in her digits and gave it back to me. “I’ll text you either tonight or tomorrow if you can come to the shoot or now. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try my best to get you in.”

“Wow, thanks,” was all I could say as I stared down at her number as if it was the most precious thing in the world. And to me, at that moment, it was.

She shrugged as if it was nothing. “It’s the least I could do for someone who helped me find my way back to my hotel.”

I crossed my arms. “How do you know I wasn’t someone dangerous?” I challenged.

To my amusement, her eyes rounded as the thought was just then dawning on her. “I-you-” she spluttered.

“Calm down, I’m not going to do anything to you,” I assured her, rolling my eyes. “You’re pretty stupid to go with just anybody who helps you though, especially in a foreign land. Not everybody is as nice as me.”

Defeated, Sora resorted to making a face that managed to still look attractive. Must be a model thing. “Well, I guess I’m just lucky. Anyway, I need to get in now. Thanks for helping me and for not being a creep.”

I smirked. “No problem.” I watched her head back in before she turned around to see if I was still there, and when she saw that I was, she raised a hand to wave good bye. I continued watching her until she disappeared from my view. Sighing contently, I turned around to the empty driveway.

It was only then when I realized something very important: I had no ride to go back to the beach.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm on my phone went off, and with a large yawn, I slid my finger across the screen to turn it off. My eyes caught sight of the time in the corner. 5:30 PM.

Why was I up this early again? I didn’t even get up this early for school. Groaning, I was about to sn