"You said you know Tyra Banks."

"So?"

"Someone who knows Tyra Banks won't be staying in a loft."

"Get your supermodel brat into my house, Oh Sehun or I'm sending you back to Mandarin Oriental. Or worse, I'll make you go homeless and dress like a real hobo instead of the posh one."

Oh Sehun never enters my house like a lightning. He even almost tripped while whiling his huge luggage into my living room. I almost died choking my own laughter. He pouted when he saw my reaction towards his action. I just ruffled his platinum blonde hair despite our height difference before entering the kitchen to grab some drinks.

"This feels like back home, noona." He told me when I handed him a can of Coke. "I feel like I'm in Seoul again."

"I don't remember hanging South Korean flag anywhere in here."

"You know what I mean." Sehun rolled his eyes.

I just smiled at his remark of my house. It did scream so much like my home back in Hongdae. When I arrived at one of the busiest city in the world five years ago, I asked Brian Rosier —one of the fashion stylist working under W Magazine who picked me up at JFK Airport a.k.a. my gay best friend #3 — about affordable lofts around New York. He introduced me to LeAnn Jacobs, one of his acquaintance who works as a property agent as a living the next day.

I told her about my preferences of living place and she brought me to Brooklyn. I fell in love with the third one — it has a similar layout with my apartment back in Hongdae — although the view from the high glass window is the front of the opposite apartment. After we signed the deal with affordable rent, I immediately told Sehun to deliver my stuff from Seoul to the address.

"Okay." Sehun sceptically eyed the rest of my apartment. “I remembered a certain noona of mine has a dream of filling her NYC home with mountains of books.”

“Ah.” I grinned while rubbing my nape. “The dream was buried together with the rest of my hopeless dreams and sleeping hour.”

Since the house in Brooklyn is smaller compared to the one in Hongdae, I decided to spare some space and cancel my plan to place book racks. Besides, working as one of the main photographers for W Magazine took a lot of my time. Not to mention the collaboration projects with other magazines under Conde Nast. I cannot give myself some time to sit back, chill and read a good book while sipping tea like I used to do when I was working in Seoul. Sehun just nodded listening to my explanation. Together, we threw our eyes to the night sky of Brooklyn.

“Are you excited for the fashion show?”

“All I want to do is strut my on the runway and go home.” Sehun sighed, resting his head on my lap. “I want to go home so bad.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” I comforted him by running my fingers through his hair. “But it’s the modeling life, you know. One second you’re in a photo shoot. Another second, you’ll be running to another shooting.”

New York International Fashion Week is finally back and Sehun is one of the supermodels who will go on the runway. He just wrapped up his photo shoot with Elle Korea in Jeju Island and he went straight from Jeju International Airport to Incheon International Airport and flew all the way to JFK for the fashion week.

He whined to me about his ‘long pain-in-the- mother fudgecake journey’ from the airport to my apartment building. Although the 30-minute whining really made me want to kick Sehun out of the car, I was still happy to know Sehun wanted to stay with me instead of at the five-star hotel with his model buddies. It has been a long time since the last time I met this precious baby brother of mine.

“I’ll prepare dinner. How’s lunchbox sounds?”

“Yes! I miss your lunchbox!”

“Okay. Unpack and shower. You smell nothing near an international supermodel.”

All I received back was a smack from his Rilakumma plushie he pulled out from his designer backpack.

***

Lincoln Centre looked alive when both of us arrived at the fashion week’s venue. The staffs were busy arranging the chairs for the guests, fashion designers (and their assistants) stomped their ways in and out of the backstage with mountains of clothes in their arms, event planners with their phones — either on their ears talking to whoever on the other side, texting people or scrolling through whatever they saved on their phones — to make sure everything runs smoothly during D-Day.

“Welcome to Lincoln Centre, Sehun-ah.”

“I’ve been to lots of fashion shows but this —,” He gestured to the commotion in front of us. “—this, I still can’t digest it.”

“Well, let’s not wait longer. Kibummie will kill me if I hold you any longer.”

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll go backstage later. Wanna meet the rest of the team.”

Sehun gave me a side-hug before sashaying his way to the backstage. While following his steps with my eyes, I could see people stopped whatever matters in their hand to ogle at Sehun. At Sehun’s , to be exact. Killer thighs, hot , firm guns (and abs), face, platinum blonde. Not to mention his long legs attracted both males and females in the building. Who will not fall for that? Me, I guess. He is cute, but no. He is so not my type.

I just shrugged before turning my feet to the end of the runway, where my friends, Josh Manning, a fashion photographer I met when I was working on a project in London who was currently talking to my gay best friend #3 aka Brian.

“You selfish arse.” Josh hissed when I came near.

“Wow, are there any memos I missed about how the Brits greet their friends now?”

“Drop the sarcasm, you bloody Mudblood. You need some explanation to do.”

“Okay, Bri. Who got his on twist?” I asked Brian before turning to Josh again. “Didn’t you get laid or something last night?”

“Girl, I swear to my Prada summer collection, we’ll burn you if you didn’t explain to us this instance.” Brian annoyingly snapped.

“What are you talking about?”

“The sweet you’re walking with just now, of course! We need to know who he is. I mean, that is glorious.”

“Don’t you dare look at him.” I glared at both of my confused friends. “Don’t you dare lay your eyes on him.”

“Hey who got your on twist? Do you, like, own the guy? Are you his sugar mummy?”

“That’s Sehun, you lunatics!”

“Oh. Oh.” Brian gasped. “You mean, he’s your...little brother?”

“Duh, Captain Obvious!” I mentally slapped my forehead. “I already told you about him like a bazillion years ago!”

“But you two didn’t look...you know, near to each other.” Josh slightly whispered the last four words.

“I’m very well aware that I didn’t look drop dead gorgeous like him, yes thank you very much.” I rolled my eyes. “And he’s not biologically related to me. He’s just a rebel kid I met in high school who decided to make me his beloved big sister he never had in real life and followed me around ever since.”

Those two just nodded to my explanation before going back to whatever discussion they had before I came (and got attacked). I excused myself to go to the backstage to meet the representatives of the South Korea fashion industry. When I arrived at the lively scene at the back, I greeted everyone I knew including some staff, designers, and models.

At the middle of the hassle of the backstage, the people from my homeland screamed my name causing me to turn away from my quick catch-up session with one of the Brazilian models I worked with before. I squeaked when I saw Leia and Sooyoung, two Korean supermodels, cutely jumped and waved from their outfit fitting position. I scurried to them after bidding goodbye and good luck to the model I was talking to.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeey~” Kim Kibum, their manager, greeted me with his high-pitched voice. “Girl, I miss you!”

“I miss you too, Kibummie!” I hugged him immediately when I reached him. “Oh my god you have no idea how excited I am when I know you guys will be here oh my god!”

“Okay. Calm down, kid.” Yuri, another Korean supermodel lightly patted my head. “How are you?”

“Eunnie, hi!” I hugged her too. “Oh my god you’re getting prettier!”

After a billion of ‘oh my god’ from me and hugging session with the rest of the them (Kim Jonghyun & Lee Jinki, the designers; Lee Taemin, make-up artist; Choi Minho; another Korean supermodel), I quietly left them with Kibum; giving them spaces to their fitting session and getting ready for rehearsals. I went to the front while catching up with everything I missed in South Korea with my best friend.

“Kibummie, why didn’t you bring Jongdae and Baekhyun?”

“They went to Milan. I’m giving the chance to Taemin this time.”

“Ah. How are my best friends though?”

“They are what we called Dynamic Duo. Bickered a lot but their masterpieces are fantastic. It’s like they have magic hands that can change every single face in this planet.”

“Well...” I playfully coughed. “Who should you thank, Manager Kim?”

Despite of his feminine persona, one Kim Kibum has a powerful pair of hands that could damage your shoulder blades and dislocate your shoulder when he shoves them. As revenge, I elbowed his precious hip and he howled in pain.

“Okay fine! Thank you my lovely best friend Miss Sky Lee for giving me two of the best make-up artists ever!” Kibum dramatically cried. “Oh, Lord! Bless her with Your Gifts and Mercy!”

I just laughed at him begging for mercy and healing for his pain. Kim Kibum is so good at acting, he should be an actor instead of one of the managers for Star Museum Agency; one of the leading modeling agency in South Korea. After he finished up his act, we sat down on the folding chairs at the left side of the long runway stage.

“Speaking of gifts, Baekhyun and Jongdae asked me to give you some stuff they bought for you when they went to Milan. What are you doing tonight?” Kibum asked while eyeing the models who were rehearsing their catwalk on the runway.

“Rest, I guess? I need to have enough energy to fight for the best seat among the photographers.”

“Let’s have dinner together. I booked a table for eleven at Kim & Co. I can pass the stuff to you then.”

“Shut up.” I looked at him disbelievingly. “Kim & Co. was, like, the best place to have dinner in New York!”

“Oh, I know. Sehun told me you talked about the restaurant a lot. So, why don’t I give it a shot too, right?”

“I need to hug Sehun so tight when we get home later.”

“Hug him as tight as you want. Just don’t harm my model’s face okay?” Kibum laughed. “Kim & Co. 7 pm. Okay?”

“Call!”

***

Sehun and I walked out of my apartment building at 6 pm. Although we promised to meet at the restaurant at 7 pm, I dragged Sehun off the couch to bring him sightseeing before we go to Kim & Co. I brought him to a little tour around my neighbourhood (favourite cafes, the park I always go jogging, etc.). Around 15 minutes to 7 pm, we arrived at the restaurant.

“Reservation under Kibum Kim,” I smiled at the waiter at the entrance.

“Table for eleven, yes?” He replied with a smile after I nodded. “But we haven’t finished the table’s set up.”

“Oh, it’s okay. We’ll just wait at the bar. Will that be okay?”

“Of course,” He extended out an arm to welcome us in. “This way, please.”

We followed the waiter straight to the bar. I thanked him with a smile, which was replied with an adorable smile and an extra wink before he walked back to his station. I was planning to get just a glass of iced lemonade before I saw the familiar backside of the bartender who was washing the glasses diligently.

“One Mountain Dew please.”

“I’m sorry, miss. We don’t sell—” The bartender stopped when he saw me as he turned around. “You know what? There’s a 7 Eleven nearby. I’ll run to grab a can for you.”

I just laughed at him while Sehun looked weirdly at me. Maybe he did not find this as amusing as I was.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Wash the glasses. Your boss will kill you if he found you missing from your place.”

“No, noona. Just give me five minutes. I’ll run.”

“Kim Jongin, stay where you are, young child. Or I’ll sauté the ballet out of your feet.”

“Okay.” Sehun suddenly snapped his finger between us. “I’m still here, yes?”

We snapped out of little bickering and turned our heads towards my lost little puppy brother. I smiled apologetically at him before introducing them to each other.

Kim Jongin is a young Korean ballet instructor in Julliard. I was fulfilling an invitation from a friend of mine from Parsons School of Design to visit their final years’ showcase on the campus when I first met him. He was helping his friend to be a model for his fashion piece. Jongin is a walking statue of perfection since he has the gorgeous bronze tan skin, the heart-piercing eyes, the toned body composition (thanks to his 24/7 I-live-for-ballet life) and a good height.

I myself was stunned when he told me it was his first fashion runway experience. The way he walked on the stage as if he was born to be a supermodel. Despite his hotness and god appearance, he is so adorable off stage. When he knew I am a Korean living in the United States, he kept me in his contact lists and got closer ever since.

Sehun and Jongin discovered they both were at the same age and began to converse more about their personal life. I pulled out my phone to check any notifications and it pinged at the same time.

bummie bumbum

7:01pm

picking up another model from jfk. the whole team tagged along. will try 2 reach there asap. xoxo

“There’s another one coming?” I interrupted Sehun’s conversation with Jongin about life in NYC.

“What?”

“Another model is coming? Kibum said he’s picking up the model from JFK.”

“Ah. That will be Yifan hyung. He got another photo shoot in Jeju the day before yesterday. So he flew here after the shooting.”

I nodded slowly. The younger turned back to resume his conversation with the young bartender. Alas, the chit-chat was stopped again. It was the waiter this time.

“Excuse me miss, sir. The table is now ready.” He told us with a smile.

“Ah. Our friends haven’t arrived yet. Can we stay at the bar until they come?”

“Of course, miss. I’ll let you know if they have arrived.”

The waiter gave us another polite smile before shuffling back to the where he was standing previously. I let the youngsters talked to each other again without intruding them again. I opted to catch up with latest online news from South Korea and scrolling through my Twitter timeline.

“Excuse me miss, sir.” The same waiter came again to us 10 minutes later. “Mr. Kim has arrived.”

I heard Sehun muttered ‘finally! I’m starving!’ under his breath. I ruffled his hair before pushing him to go to the table first. Since I kinda sensed Jongin will be in his shift behind the bar this evening, I played Cupid and prepared a piece of paper with Sehun’s number on it and passed it to Jongin. I was hoping they will be attracted to each other since I know the ideal type of both of them. It’s time for them to be happy and even if they didn’t get together, I hope they’ll still be good friends.

Jongin mouthed ‘I love you’ to me before kissing my knuckles. I playfully pulled his cute nose and skipped to the reserved table before Jongin could take revenge. As I walked towards the table, the first thing I saw was a cold-faced Oh Sehun sitting between an empty chair and Minho. Kibum was animatedly talking to someone — probably Yifan — who was showing his backside to me.

I sat down beside Sehun. I could feel black aura emitted from him. I was about to pat his hand to ask him if there is anything wrong when Kibum called me.

“Sky, sorry for the late arrival. Come here for a sec. I want you to meet someone. Yifan couldn’t make it, so the management sent him instead. But it’s okay. He is as tall as that Chinese dude. And handsome too.”

Said model turned around to face me. When I saw him, I felt like my whole world crashed. Like everything went numb and silent. I could not even feel Sehun’s hand gripping mine tightly below the table. My heartbeat became irregular but I was able to control my face and let out a small smile. Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks but I kept it cool and try to be as bright as I can.

“Hi. Nice to meet you.”

Goddammit I miss his deep yet soothing voice.

“I’m Chanyeol.”