The expression she wore was more amused than pleased as she looked up at them when she stepped out of her walk-in closet. She bit back a smile. She didn’t expect their reactions, so she looked down as she finished buttoning the silver cufflinks on her right sleeve.

She was clad in an 18th century military-inspired charcoal grey dress coat, complete with a divided tail at the back and highlighted by a delicately muted shade of pink facing. The coat’s broad cuffs, epaulettes, and button clasps were of the same muted color. Under the coat was a hushed salmon-hued, multi-layered chiffon and silk-cotton mix jumpsuit with billowy wide-legged pants, giving the bottom part of her whole outfit the illusion of a full-skirted, flowy evening gown.

The jumpsuit with the divided skirt was the most girly piece of clothing that she had in her possession. Not that she owned skirts or dresses in whatever length or form either. In fact, it was the only girly outfit in her closet. Her normal style was closer to urban varsity chic and men’s college casual. Think jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, baseball caps and spiffy kicks. Not exactly what a typical woman wears. However, she couldn’t care less if people didn’t think much of her masculine clothes. Her shoes though, were another story. She was quite proud of her shoe game.

Memories flooded her thoughts in that moment, as she finished by smoothing the front of the elaborately adorned delicate wool coat and the soft fabric it was partially covering. Victoria gave her the outfit as a present for her 20th birthday. Her eyes protruded then, and she shook her head no so vehemently when the older girl presented it to her, hanging on a clothes rack for her to wear to her own party. There was no way she was getting into a frilly outfit. Never.

Her bandmate’s well-practiced pout appeared, followed consequently by an adorable imploring look. Victoria’s expectant and excited expression was hard to ignore, which she knew was going to be her doom. She couldn’t say no to Song Qian’s gorgeous pleading eyes either. Never.

She remembers the f(x) leader leaping gleefully, hugging her and kissing her on the cheeks. Victoria’s gorgeous face was full of fondness and eagerness at her agreement.

“You won’t regret wearing this, mei-mei. I promise!”

A playful smile tugged at her lips remembering how she walked down the stairs towards the dining hall of the private restaurant booked exclusively by her bandmates. A collected gasp was heard from most of the guests. Luna and Krystal’s squeal of delight startled her, and Sulli’s dulcet laugh ringing exuberantly over her very loud “Ohmygod, hyung, marry me!” released the tension slightly buidling in her stomach. She grinned and laughed despite herself, amused as she saw Seohyun and Ailee hugging each other and beaming at her while she walked towards them.

It was a very small and exclusive party with only the girls, Shinee oppas (she couldn’t recall why Taemin wasn’t there), Donghae, Eunhyuk and their own f(x) managers present. With Krystal in charge of planning, of course it had to be a chic and luxurious European-inspired costume party. Her bandmates decided on inviting only the choicest of her closest friends in the industry--those who they knew she would be most comfortable with, AND who would NOT to no end about her outfit--knowing full well she wouldn’t want to be caught dead in a crowd wearing what they had planned for her to wear. Being awkward and self-conscious on the fete in her honor was not what they were intent on doing. They wanted her to have fun, even though she was wearing a dress--which in her case, was almost a miracle.

When Victoria left her in the private office on the restaurant’s second floor to change, there was only a minor whine of protest on her part (“I’m only doing this because I love you, unnie. Since it’s my birthday, you guys are supposed to humor me, not the other way around”), because she knew the battle was lost at Vic’s petulantly pretty pout anyway.

When she put the whole thing on, she discovered it wasn’t too bad. The regiment-inspired coat was to her liking because it was structured, elaborate and elegant in a neutral way. It did a pretty good job of counteracting the ultra-feminine vibe of the fluffy divided skirt underneath. Plus, although the jacket’s facing was pink, its very soft undertone complimented the similarly subdued salmon shade of her jumpsuit.

She loved how the garment felt luxurious against her skin, and the multi-layering of the floor-length chiffon and silk-cotton gave it a certain amount of weight that let it fall naturally. It was wonderful walking in them, feeling the warmth of the soft, wispy fabric against her thighs and finally gathering around her ankles was comforting. This was one billowy frock she could wear without her fearing it being blown upwards by a slight puff of wind.

That was her major complaint with skirts and dresses. It was disconcerting for her to not feel any piece of fabric surrounding her lower limbs. She preferred clothes that would allow her to move freely without exposing anything inappropriately, considering how she bounced around with energy most of the time.

The reactions of the gentlemen present then were a mix of wide-eyed jaw drops (the managers), and appreciative grins and hooting from her SM brothers. She rolled her eyes when Key walked towards her and ceremoniously took her hand as she reached the last flight of stairs to help her down. Not that she needed any help. Trust him to bring drama to any situation.

He hugged her, whispering how incredible she looked. She sniggered when he asked if he could borrow her beautiful coat in the future. Key loved pink, even if the shade on this one was too light. Victoria, who followed her dressed in her own vintage ball gown, smacked the stylish boy on the back of his head not too lightly when she heard what he requested.

That was almost 4 years ago.

This is the only time she wore the outfit again.

She couldn’t see it because the light was behind her, but the effect that the early afternoon sunlight on the muted pastels of her clothes and the creamy complexion of her skin was a sight to behold. The deep, rich shade of brunette she sported, and her almond-colored eyes seemed to shimmer as more of the sunlight radiated around her in the outfit. The effect was otherworldly. She looked like she came walking straight out of a European period movie.

“So?” she asked simply, waiting for a comment.

There was no collective gasp this time, but there were wide-eyed jaw drops all around. A small sigh of longing was heard, which was quickly replaced by a pretend cough.

She wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to embarrass Seungri, who was clearly taken aback. This was the first time he saw her “dressed” like this. Well, it was definitely a first for all of them, in fact.

At one glance, she registered their reactions as soon as she stepped out. Taeyang dropped the prized limited-edition Jordan’s of hers that he was admiring and fumbled to prevent it from falling but failed. Daesung clasped both hands against his heart. The oldest of them, who was nonchalantly lounging on her bed with his head resting on his forearm quickly sat up, and Jiyong--the one who pestered her to wear the ensemble AND was expectantly waiting for her to reappear—was clearly out of sorts.

He stood blinking at the sight of her, then walked over to her quickly and raised his hands attempting to smooth over her outfit, like a designer seeing his clothes on a model. He stopped short. There was clearly nothing to smooth over. He felt a little foolish with his arms flailing around like that.

She, meanwhile, was a little surprised to see her fashionable sunbae flustered.

When his gaze returned to her face, he had on a beaming smile. It was toothy and gummy and bright. In a flash, the smile was gone, instantly replaced by an extremely dark scowl.

“What terrible mood swings,” she said while snickering.

“I am going to murder your stylist,” he said.

Her laugh rang throughout the room. She knew his inner fashionista was unleashed.

“That’s not nice, dude,” she replied. “We wouldn’t want the one and only G-Dragon in jail, now, would we?”

“Please turn around, Amber.” Seunghyun’s resonant bass addressed her. He was now sitting, his back comfortably resting against the headboard, one leg stretched out over the other on the bed. His hands were clasped together on a pillow propped on his lap.

She complied, and immediately heard his deep hum of approval.

The remaining three crowded around her, the better to observe her in all her decked-out glory. She smiled an earnest smile as she held out her arms to show them the sleeves when they studied the fabric and the design. She knew it was exquisite. She prided in Victoria’s taste of outfit for her.

“Wow.” Seungri was clearly impressed. “Vintage, isn’t it?” he asked, focusing on the ornate silver buttons on the front of the jacket near her chest. When he moved to touch them, Taeyang quickly slapped his hand away.

“Go sit beside Seunghyun-hyung,” Taeyang ordered him.

The youngest man reluctantly complied, but sneakily took a picture of Amber with his phone. All heads turned to him when the camera shutter clicked. He yelped when Seunghyun grabbed his phone and smacked his head with it, then deleted the picture.

“What are you doing?” the oldest chided him, amidst cries of “stop that, Seungri,” from Taeyang and “gosh, this guy’s unbelievable,” from Daesung.

“She looks cra-zy good! What can I do?” he remarked brazenly as he looked incredulously at the rest while nursing his hurting head.

Amber couldn’t help but grin. It’s funny how she wasn’t ever self-conscious at all around these guys, to the point of even donning the one feminine ensemble that she had at that. It was a wonderful thing to be surrounded by people who were completely accepting of who you are. It also felt good to know how they were protective of her privacy. The gesture wasn’t lost on her.

When she was about to tell Seungri that, for this one, she did indeed mind being photographed, Jiyong spoke.

“I can understand what Seungri’s doing though,” he said matter-of-factly.

Upon hearing this, the youngest guy did a silly jig that made the other’s snort, but Jiyong ignored it.

He stepped back a while ago when the others approached her, bent on studying her thoroughly from afar, like a painting. His head was cocked to one side, his thumb and forefinger cradling his chin, deeply absorbed as he carefully took in the vision of her from head to toe. He was thoroughly pleased.

Amber’s face was the only part of her body laid bare. The outfit concealed everything else, forcing the observer to move his gaze upward and focus on her face.

Although she wasn’t exactly his type of pretty—that was a matter of preference, of course--her face possessed an uncharacteristic attractiveness that was extraordinarily pleasing. He thinks her weakest facial feature was her nose. It was a little too Roman for him. At an upward angle, when it’s bridge was perpendicular to her gorgeous jaw is when he liked seeing it best. Full-face portrait angle, not really; but that was just him.

That only really mattered slightly anyhow, because he thinks the rest of her face is striking. The jawline that ended in a narrow protruding chin is the most androgynous part. Or probably the only androgynous part, in his opinion. It reflected a sense of determination and character. High cheekbones that framed the rest of her face are accentuated whenever she smiled. Her eyes are a warm, inviting deep brown of roasted almonds. --well, those naturally upturned corners at the end of her lips—those are his favorite.

He approached her again and stared contemplatively at her face. Then he nodded and smiled to himself, seemingly coming to a conclusion.

Amber raised an eyebrow inquiringly at him.

He ignored the fact that he might have been staring at her for too long.

“Everyone needs to see this,” he said, smile transforming into a wide, appealing grin that made all the girls swoon. He took both her hands in his. “Let’s go do a shoot with you in this, right now.”

Amber gave him an amused smile, shaking her head as she released her hands from Jiyong’s hold. She transferred her hands to his shoulders and shook him lightly for emphasis when she replied.

“Sorry, dude. NOT happening.”

She knew that Jiyong had been thinking of how to spruce up the outfit for a complete look—make-up, accessories, and all the what-not that she didn’t really care much about while he was staring at her intently earlier. His reputation as the quintessential king of fashion in K-pop was something he took very seriously. Right now, she couldn’t help but think Jiyong thought of her as a fashion project.

Daesung moved to sit on the edge of her bed, his raspy, musical voice joining in the conversation.

“Jiyong-hyung is right Amber. You should wear something like this in public.”

When he saw her begin to frown, he raised his hands quickly in a placating gesture and quickly added, “not all the time though. Just on very special occasions. Like awards shows, for example.”

She shook her head again quite deliberately this time, as the frown deepened,

“Stop frowning,” Taeyang chuckled as he lightly pinched her ear. He bent down to pick up the shoe he dropped earlier. “I mean, man…you look runway ready,” he added, with an unbelieving shake of the head as he looked her over again in awe.

She saw Jiyong’s gaze snap towards Taeyang and then back at her again. An idea was clearly fomenting in his head. She didn’t quite like what he was probably going to say next.

When Seunghyun saw the frown didn’t leave her face, his lips pursed. That frown was an anomaly unbefitting the ethereal glow she exuded in the clothes. It had to go.

“Amber, sweetheart,” he spoke quickly in English to turn her attention to him. “You know…never mind...” he continued in Korean and smiled encouragingly at her. “You can wear whatever the hell you want. There is no need to please us, or anyone else. Just be yourself, like you always have.”

While Amber beamed at him, Jiyong purposefully scoffed at the statement. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe how low-key cunning their oldest can become. He knew Seunghyun was indulging her. The endearment in her native language and was commonplace enough in her culture to show fondness without being misunderstood as being more. Plus the “us” in his statement was a clear indication he also wanted her to do it. If all goes according to his plans, Seunghyun deserves a treat.

Taeyang and Daesung turned around towards Seunghyun with raised eyebrows. They also knew what he was doing. The cunning side of their eldest was rearing its wily head, so they decided to play their part.

Whenever the group met opposition, they usually used this strategy to get the other party to accomplish what they want. One of them would play the role of absolutely going against the idea presented to them, while one person would completely take the side of their opponent. The rest would provide supporting voices of “objectivity” until they get the other person to see