I had the previous chapter all written and ready for posting when one Kichie threw me this prompt:
"Where Sehun whines to his dad how thrifty his mom is so his dad spoils him. Later that night mom calls dad to scold him for spoiling their son and oh no what am I doing."

So guess what I did... yes, I wrote it.

This takes place some time before the events in the previous chapter and is what Junhee refers to when she asks Yifan if they are “discussing this again”. To be honest I don’t even know how much this really goes into the direction of Kichie’s prompt. But hey, enjoy.

...

Paris always gives Yifan a feeling of deep nostalgia. The city is rich of history, of past times of different kind.

There is the history of a growing city and capital, of different social constructs, of a revolution and human rights. There is the history of religious persecution, of occupation, of shame and glory. There is the history of architecture and cuisine and of course there is the history of makeup and fashion.

And there is the history of the rise of his career and fall of his marriage. The history of his family that still lives there, surrounded by the past and seemingly doing well.

Yifan is not doing so well, but he is good at playing pretend.

That Paris is the city of his ex-wife is something Yifan is reminded of mere minutes after being through passport check at Charles de Gaulle airport. He waits for his luggage and whether he glances left or right, behind him or in front, the hall is plastered with advertising for the Parisienne fashion brand Gardienne.

Gardienne had been Junhee’s far, distant dream when Yifan met her at the age of almost sixteen. His mother had moved them to South Korea and he had been awkward, tall and most importantly Chinese, plenty of reason for his classmates to treat him rough. To this day Yifan believes he was one of Junhee’s pity projects that, in eyes of her father, went a little too far.

For someone who had denied Junhee all support when Sehun was born in the year 1994, the old man had paradoxically learned to adore his grandson embarrassingly fast once they moved to Paris. It did not stop him from sending Yifan a letter dripping of pleasant triumph after the divorce was through.

Sehun grew up in Paris, playing with toy blocks in Junhee’s cheap first atelier during her studies and in hallways where Yifan waited to be called in for the casting. Between all the struggle for recognition and trying to raise a toddler, Yifan and Junhee had both worked the oddest of jobs to make ends meet. Junhee had made Yifan promise not to do something illegal. To this day he kept her blissfully oblivious to how he brought in money in very desperate times. What they would have done if the French education system did not offer mostly free full time care for children from the age of 3 on, Yifan does not dare thinking about.

If you ask Yifan which of his achievements he is the proudest of his answer was, is and always will be “Sehun”. He only contributed half of his gene pool to this little wonder of nature and Junhee did most of the work nurturing their son during pregnancy and for many months after, but it stands. Despite their jobs Junhee and he were equally present in Sehun’s life up until the divorce and Yifan believes he has done his part in bringing Sehun up to be a genuine, empathetic and kind human.

Helping Junhee’s dream come true comes close second. Although the ads serve as a reminder of a blissful past they also remind him that he was the brand’s first face and took it to the first ranks of the industry. Sehun is their son, Gardienne might be their pretty, little daughter.

It is Sehun who greets him as Yifan steps into the arrival area.

“Papa!”

A smile blooms on his son’s face and then Yifan has his arms around Sehun’s broad back and hugs him.

“If you don’t stop growing soon you’ll be taller than me.” Yifan says, affectionate and proud.

Parents are said to generally see everything their child does through fogged lenses, but Yifan is a senior model and has seen plenty of younger male models to be perfectly aware that Sehun’s looks and height are above industry standard. Then again, he is Yifan and Junhee’s son.

“Hashtag goal reached I’d say.” Sehun laughs and Yifan shakes his head, bemused with the way youth expresses itself these days.

“Your Mom let you have the car to pick me up?” Yifan wonders as they walk towards the parking deck, steadily ignoring the two or three reporters following them. This is not uncommon, fashion journalism calls them fashion royalty after all and any move of theirs is news.

“She let me have the car, yes. That I picked you up is a fact I plan to let her in on later.” Sehun explains nonchalantly while Yifan heaves his luggage into the trunk. Yifan still laughs when they are driving deeper into the city.

“When are you leaving again?” Sehun asks over the EDM blasting through the car’s stereo system.

“On Sunday evening. I have two jobs and I promised to see someone for a future job. Exciting project, fashion for men in the forties and older. They don’t just want my face, they want my experience and expertise.”

“Sounds great Dad.”

“And you, did the acceptance letter come in?”

“Such a parent question.” Sehun complains.

“I am your parent, surprise. I’m just asking because I know you really want this and I’m almost as anxious for happy news as you are.”

“Not as anxious as Mom. I barely stopped her from calling the university office and demanding to know when the answer letters finally come through. But yes, I have been accepted. I’ll soon start my studies in fashion design.”

“Congratulations Hunnie. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Dad. Doesn’t that call for a congratulations gift?”

“What do you want, you spoiled brat?”

“There’s this shirt from Chanel that I desperately want for a specific styling concept, but Mom won’t buy it. She says I can get something alike but much cheaper.”

“Typically your Mom. She has always been like this. One of her many principles.”

“If I didn’t know you were once married I’d say you’ve got a long-standing crush on her.” Sehun teases. All Yifan does is cough awkwardly and try to deflect.

“You really want that one and no other will do?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Sehun affirms and shoots Yifan a particular set of puppy eyes.

“Fine, let’s have lunch and go shopping.”

Sehun screams in delight.

The same evening Yifan is in the middle of undressing for a shower and to sleep some of the jetlag off as his phone goes off. At first he is confused, he does not remember putting Lady Antebellum’s Need You Now as ringtone, but when he looks at the caller ID it becomes clear to him.

Bingbing jie must have changed it after he got terribly drunk about a week back and whined to her about the divorce.

He personally keeps a neutral ringtone for Junhee, because there is nothing he hates as much as announcing to the journalists who follow him wherever he goes that his feelings about getting a divorce took a perfect u-turn a while ago.

“Yes, Junhee?”

“Can it be you find joy in sabotaging my educational methods? Are you doing this on purpose? Just to spite me?”

Yifan sighs. Junhee has been constantly angry with him since he filed for the divorce and while he knows he deserves it, he sometimes wishes she allowed him to breathe during the occasions they talk.

“What did I do this time? Because I have really no idea. I landed this morning, saw Sehun, made sure he goes home instead of drifting off to a bar and went to my hotel. Is spending time with my son now undermining his upbringing?”

“Don’t throw me that good dad card right here, Wu Yifan. We agreed that you can see Sehun as much as you please and he is an adult now and can make his own choices. What I am talking about is that you suddenly forgot our agreement not to spoil Sehun unnecessarily.”

“Buying him designer clothes is not unnecessary spoiling, Junhee. He has taste that comes from growing up in the fashion scene, why can we not indulge him if he finds items from certain brands fitting for his expression of style?”

“You’re always thinking with your model brain.”

“And you’re always thinking with the brain of us in the late 90s.”

“That’s still better than pretending there was no such us.”

“Junhee.”

“Yifan.” Junhee mocks back, but then her tone grows soft.

“Don’t you see why I do this? Sehun is possibly ensnared by the thought that wearing only brand makes him fashionable. That Zitao friend he met over at yours in Beijing is far from convincing him otherwise. Does that boy wear anything but brand?”

“It’s funny that you complain about people wearing Haute Couture when you are making your money with just that.”

“Is it wrong to believe you only understand fashion if you can make anything fashion? Style is not which brand you wear, but how you wear it and how you combine your clothes. The name tag is not relevant. I want Sehun to understand that.”

“I know, Junhee. I still believe that if he sees a shirt he thinks is perfect for an outfit and there is a brand name and certain price attached to it we should buy it for him. Not always or regularly, but we should.”

“I just want to keep him humble. He needs to understand that for most people Hugo Boss is not affordable, but they still have style within the possibilities of prêt-à-porter or mass production.”

“There goes your fashion designer brain talking.”

“Oh, I am so sorry.”

“No, you’re not. But that’s okay. I think I get it. I’ll still buy him brands occasionally.”

Junhee sighs dramatically and Yifan dwells on the sound for a little while. He knows a multitude different types of Junhee’s sighs and it hits him again how much he misses something he thought he did not need anymore. Something he carelessly threw away and does not know how to get it back. All he can do is try.

“Fine.” Junhee sighs again, this time defeated.

“Say, Junhee. Can I ask you for a favor?” Yifan tests.

“Not really. But talk. Perhaps I’ll change my mind.”

“You remember that suit you designed for me back when Gardienne started out, but then never put into a collection? I ripped the pants half a year ago and I can’t find a new pair anywhere that properly goes with the jacket. It is a lot asking, but would you make me another one?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you and I both know that it your ego that I can’t find something else to measure my taste and I’ll also pay you. As much as you want. I won’t brag anywhere that you designed it for me, I promise. So please?”

Junhee hums, one of agreement if Yifan remembers correctly. He probably does. After years of marriage every sound, every move and every change in her face is still entangled with his being.

“I believe I still have the design in my safe. How’s your schedule? You could come over tomorrow night if your schedule allows and I’ll do a fitting.”

“You’re the best.” Yifan says, too eagerly probably and almost swallows his tongue wanting to take it back.

“I know. Glad to see you remember.” Junhee retorts dryly. “So tomorrow evening?”

“I could be at your atelier at seven.”

“Sounds good to me. Try not to attract reporters. I’m not in the mood to read about us in the news ever again.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Yifan salutes before Junhee hangs up.

Sehun catches them that next evening doing something definitely not suit pants involved.