Ah, Sunday. No one would be working today; except me. After sending a quick good morning text to Bora, I poured myself a cup of coffee, and looked over the latest issue of Vogue. I finally had a bit of furniture set up. It wasn’t much; a black glass-topped table with geometric gold highlights, a couple of matching chairs, and my trusty coffeemaker. At least it didn’t feel like work. 

 

Truth be told, seeing Bora in that outfit last night had me feeling many things. Once I got the more...urgent impulses out of my system, I couldn’t help but curse the cheap fabric that touched her skin. A girl like Bora deserved more. She deserved a skirt made of modal instead of those bunched-up fibers of cotton. It didn’t even fit well. Although I certainly appreciated the view of her thighs, I couldn’t help but wonder how much better she’d look in a properly-fitted skirt. The jacket looked like it was made from decent-quality fabric, but the seams were twisted and amateur-ish. Someone of Bora’s caliber shouldn’t be wearing anything but the finest clothing available. I knew beauty when I saw it. I knew quality when I saw it. It was painful seeing such a beautiful girl in poor quality clothing. It wasn’t right.  She should be in Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Saint Laurent...and Lee Shi. I still had my sketchbook sitting on the table from last night, where I hurriedly scrawled some designs down before falling asleep. 

 

I put Vogue to the side, set down my coffee, and opened up my sketchbook. I tapped my chin with the pencil I left inside the closed pages, and continued to sketch out my ideas. If she liked natural fibers like cotton, then modal was the way to go. I personally preferred the heavier tencel fabric, since it would be more firm in covering her cute ...it was still a natural fiber, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. I could make the inner lining out of viscose, so it would slide over her skin easily. I could do the same thing with the jacket, too...but she’s already finished this cover...it wouldn’t make any sense to make clothes that wouldn’t have a purpose. I closed my sketchbook with a groan, tossed my pencil on top of it, and sipped my coffee. 

 

“What time is it, anyway?” I mumbled, tapping my phone to turn the screen on. It was a little bit past ten in the morning, and I had no new messages from anyone. Minji probably wasn’t up yet, and if she was, she was probably doting on her girlfriends. If Bora was still sleeping, I didn’t want to message her again and risk waking her up. She needed to rest. She looked exhausted yesterday. If she was awake, I didn’t want to bother her by double-texting. She was still a student, after all, and probably had projects and homework to get through. I picked up my copy of Vogue, only to set it back down again. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled up Insomnia’s YouTube channel on my phone, and scrolled through their videos, looking at the outfits worn in each thumbnail. It was varied, which was to be expected. They covered K-Pop groups, sure, but they also performed choreographies by people all over the world… One thing remained constant, though. They matched the outfits they wore with the outfits worn in the original performance. 

 

I pulled my sketchbook back toward me, opened it up, and made a small list in the corner. Certain pieces were more common than others. Lots of the covers involved high-waisted shorts or skirts. Crop tops were also common. That narrowed it down a bit. I sketched out what I wanted the clothes to look like, then made a draft of a pattern, complete with fabric names and colors. By the time I had decided whether to use modal or tencel, rayon or silk, and felt satisfied with my color choices...it was past noon. Oops. I checked my phone before making my first meal of the day, and saw a message from Bora. My heart fluttered at the mere sight of her name, and I opened it up.

 

Baby Bora:

[Good morning! Did you get enough sleep?]

 

Siyeon:

[I slept well~ Did you get enough rest?]

 

I set my phone back down on the table, and sifted through my cabinets for something to make, when I heard my phone buzz from the table. I ran back to it like an obedient puppy. 

 

Baby Bora:

[Not really...I couldn’t stop thinking about stuff :( It’s okay, though]

 

Siyeon: 

[Go take a nap, sweetheart] 

 

I pouted at the thought of poor Bora staying up all night, with thoughts running through her mind. Was it my fault? Should I not have brought up the whole “sugar baby” situation last night? My phone buzzed before I even set it down, and I opened up the message immediately. 

 

Baby Bora:

[I can’t. I need to finish my homework, then I meet with Insomnia to plan out our schedule.] 

 

Siyeon:

[You poor soul...I wish I could help.] 

 

Baby Bora:

[It’s okay, no worries. I’ll see you on Monday, right?]

 

Siyeon:

[Of course! I need my americano!]

 

Baby Bora:

[Perfect! I’ll text you later, I gotta get moving.]

 

Siyeon:

[Take your time, sweetie.]

 

I set my phone back down and started on making my lunch, waiting for my phone to buzz or light up while I cooked. Nothing came; not even anything from Minji. Even while I ate, no messages came. I washed my dishes, and still, no word from anyone. I wasn’t normally this fixated on others. Especially not Minji… I shrugged it off and dug my sewing machine out of one of the many still-packed cardboard moving boxes. I dragged my boxes of fabric over to the open floor where I set up my sewing machine, and searched through them for the materials I needed. I needed modal, for sure, tencel and viscose for the skirt…

 

I stopped dead in my tracks when the time came to transfer the sketched pattern to the real thing. I didn’t know Bora’s measurements. How would these clothes fit her the way they should, if I don’t know what I’m fitting them to? Even worse...how on earth did I expect myself to obtain her measurements? I plopped back down on the ground with a groan. If I just ask her what her measurements are, that’s weird and creepy. If I wrap some measuring tape around her chest, that’s even worse. I ruffled my hair, annoyed. 

 

I gasped in excitement. My mannequin. That would save me. I kicked boxes around until I found the box that contained it, and even though it looked like a tornado swept through my living room, I put it together successfully. I took a deep breath to calm myself down, and placed my hand on the small of the mannequin’s back, like I had done to Bora last night. It was too big. Bora’s waist felt smaller, thinner, warmer. I chuckled at myself, and looked at the lifeless mannequin. It felt wrong to try making this object into that gorgeous woman. I wanted to take her measurements myself, and to fit it to her frame. Even if I got her measurements, that didn’t feel like enough. It wasn’t her. Sure, they were numbers that represented her, but they weren’t her. They weren’t warm or soft or sweet. They didn’t blush when I touched them, they didn’t wrap me up in a hug when words were too difficult to say. Those dumb numbers couldn’t demand the attention of thousands with just a look, and they couldn’t capture a single heart. 

 

“…” I groaned, sitting down on the cold, hardwood floor. I missed the warmth of her skin, the comforting aura she carried with her, the softness of her hair, the joy in her voice… I needed to see her and hold her in my arms again. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but I had to. I couldn’t just go running in during their meeting, if it was even still going on. I couldn’t wait outside the building like a creep, either. I laid down, bumping my head on the floor. I winced a little, but my mind was still focused on Bora. I needed her so badly. Maybe I could pretend I needed a model to test some clothes on. I could get her measurements that way, and then she could try on the clothes. When they were perfect, I’d let her keep them. Knowing what an angel she is, she’ll probably try to give them back...I’d cross that bridge when I get to it. 

 

I awoke, curled up on the floor around my laptop, sketchbook, and a couple piles of still-neatly folded fabrics. I hurriedly wiped up the drool that dribbled from my mouth when I was in a deep sleep, and checked my phone for the time. Even if I could just teleport to the office, I’d be late. I ran my fingers through my hair with a sigh, as I looked at my missed messages. I had two missed messages from Minji, and a few days ago, I would’ve checked those first. Nope. I checked my missed message from Bora first. It was a good morning text; nothing out of the ordinary, but it still made my heart flutter to know that she thought of me. Minji was just worried because I hadn’t yet responded to her text, and I normally would have by now. I sent Bora a good morning text of my own, and let Minji know I’d be taking the day off. I wanted to get to work on Bora’s new clothes as soon as I could, and I didn’t really want Minji to spam my phone with messages. 

 

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, then sifted through my boxes of clothes for what I’d wear. I really needed to unpack. I settled on an outfit that I made myself: a cropped black leather jacket embellished with golden buttons and chains on top of a fitted black t-shirt featuring a snarling wolf. I slipped some black denim garter belt pants on, then looked at myself in the mirror. A little heavy on the black, sure, but it made the buttons on the jacket pop, and drew more attention to the wolf on my t-shirt. The break in the pants also helped disturb the monotony. I put a couple of gold-colored ear piercings in to brighten the outfit a bit more, then stepped into my bathroom to do my makeup. To balance out the intensity of my outfit, I only did light makeup, except for using a slightly darker shade than normal for my lips. After brushing my hair, I slipped on a pair of black leather sneakers, then checked myself out in the mirror for the last time. Not bad. I grabbed my measuring tape and put it in my purse, then left my house to see Bora at the cafe. 

 

It was a short drive to the cafe, but it felt like hours. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I was really going to just...take her measurements in public? Had she made any progress on her decision to become my sugar baby? I hoped she had, but at the same time, I worried that she’d decline. Was I putting too much pressure on her? It was probably hard enough to balance everything that she already has, but here I was, trying to get her to balance a relationship on top of it all. I sighed, parking my car next to the little building. If she’d be mine, I’d do everything in my power to make her life easier. She wouldn’t have to balance work anymore, and I’d be lenient with what I needed from her as my sugar baby. Even if life became just a little less stressful for her, that would be enough for me. 

 

I stepped out of my Lamborghini, and entered the familiar cafe. Sure enough, Bora was at the counter taking orders. As soon as I stepped in, our eyes met, and I saw the faintest blush decorate her cheeks. I stepped into line, as there were two people already waiting for their orders to be taken. She got through them quickly, and when I stepped up to the counter, her whole face lit up. 

 

“I’ll take a break soon, so we can talk a bit.” She grinned. “So, iced americano as usual, right?” 

 

“You know me well.” I chuckled. “Take all the time you need, cutie. There’s no rush.” 

 

“I’ll bring it to you.” She said, then said how much it would cost. I didn’t pay attention. I pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of my wallet and handed it to her, then went to sit at a table before she could give me the change back. It didn’t take very long before she set my drink down in front of me. 

 

“Thank you.” I smiled, and eagerly took a sip. 

 

“Can I sit…?” She gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the small table.

 

“Of course! Please do. I actually need to talk to you about something.” 

 

“I need to talk to you too, but you go first.” She giggled, taking a seat in front of me. 

 

“No, no, you first. What’s on your mind?” I asked, subconsciously leaning forward. She never mentioned needing to speak about anything, but then again, there are some things that she didn’t seem to want to talk about through text.

 

“Are you sure?” I nodded in response, and she took a deep breath. “The whole...arrangement you mentioned…tell me more.” 

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“Well...you said there’d be no strings attached. What if, hypothetically of course, I didn’t want that? Like...if feelings were involved…?” She spoke quietly, while playing with a strand of her hair. She stared at the table, and she looked smaller and more vulnerable than ever. I couldn’t help myself. I took the hand that was playing with her hair, and held it, intertwining our fingers. 

 

“I’d be fine with that.” I said softly. She bit her lower lip, failing to hide a little smile, and nodded. 

 

“And...what exactly would you want from this?” She glanced up at my face, but quickly turned her attention back to the ground. 

 

“I’ll be honest with you. I’m lonely.” She looked up at me, wide-eyed. 

 

“You’re lonely?” 

 

“I don’t really have friends, and I certainly don’t have anything even remotely similar to a love life. I don’t need much from you. Just...go on some dates with me, and come over to my place to watch a movie every once in a while.” I chuckled awkwardly. “That sounds really-”

 

“I’d love that.” She squeezed my hand gently, still not making eye contact with me. “I wouldn’t mind doing more than that- I mean, I don’t know, I’m an idiot.” She squeezed my hand tighter, and I desperately wanted to get up and wrap her up in my arms. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward. You said you had something to talk to me about…?” 

 

“No, no, no, it’s okay.” I grinned. “I actually, uh...I’m starting a new collection, and it’s really helpful if I have someone to test the designs on.”

 

“You want me? I’m not a model, though…” Her lips formed a cute pout. 

 

“Please?” I pouted back. She looked up, and a wide smile took over her features as soon as she did. 

 

“What do I need to do?” 

 

“Ah- Um, I need to get measurements… It’s a bit awkward. We should probably do this in the bathroom, or-” 

 

“Gimme just a sec.” She let go of my hand and jogged to the counter, where she talked with the woman I recognized as Haseul. The older woman didn’t seem to have any problems with whatever Bora suggested, since Bora ran back to me with a smile on her face. “Come with me. You can bring your americano, too, if you want.” I gave her a confused look, but she brought me behind the counter and through a door. There was a coffee table sitting in the middle of the room with chairs all around it. At each end of the room were stalls to change clothes, and the back wall was lined with lockers. “This is our break room. It’s nothing much, but it’s a bit nicer than going to the bathroom, right? You can just set your things on the table.” 

 

“Your boss is okay with this?” I asked, setting my purse and americano down on the table, and pulling out the pink measuring tape. 

 

“As long as I’m back to work in about ten minutes.” She shrugged, and glanced from the measuring tape to my face. “So…”

 

“We’ll start with the least awkward ones. Would you rather if I measured your hips or waist first?” 

 

“It doesn’t really matter to me.” She shrugged. I kneeled in front of her, and wrapped the tape around the widest point of her hips. This, of course, just had to include that spot between her legs. Maybe I should’ve started with her waist. She was incredibly tense, nearly shaking, as my hand adjusted the way the tape laid across her . My finger brushed against the spot I wanted to avoid like the plague; she let out a nearly-silent whimper. Dammit, that was hot. I dropped the measuring tape to the ground. 

 

“Are you okay?” I asked, standing up, despite how dizzy I felt. Her face was bright red. 

 

“I-I’m fine, you can keep going.” She mumbled. 

 

“If this is uncomfortable, I can stop. It’s okay.” 

 

“I’m really okay, I promise.” She giggled nervously. I knelt back down and lined the measuring tape up along the widest point of her hips. I managed to avoid brushing against the sensitive area again, and whispered the number to myself. I rolled up the sleeve of my jacket and wrote it down on my arm with a pen. It was the worst handwriting I had ever produced. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. 

 

“Okay, I need you to lift your shirt a bit- just a bit.” I instructed her softly, trying to keep both of us calm. I only had one of three measurements done, and the tension in the room...it was suffocating. She did as I said, and I wrapped the tape around her waist. Her muscles tensed and shivered under my fingers. “Just relax. If I need to stop, tell me.” I hummed, trying to reassure her. Her abs were well-defined and hard; I wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of how tense she was or if it was because of her history of dance, but it was probably a little bit of both. I mumbled the number aloud to myself, and jotted it down on my arm. I took a deep breath before standing. “This is the last one, I promise. Raise your arms, please.” She did. I pulled the measuring tape around her back. “If you want me to stop, tell me. It’s okay.” 

 

“I’m okay, I promise.” She mumbled, looking at anything but me. 

 

“I’m gonna touch your chest.” I warned. She just nodded. I brought the tape together across the widest point of her chest. My fingers kept brushing against her as her breathing sped up, and her little heart felt like it was about to explode. As soon as I got the number I needed, I looked up to check on her and make sure she was okay. That was a mistake. Her pupils were blown wide, and her cheeks were rosy red. Her lips were already pouted, just begging for a kiss. I couldn’t hear anything except my own pounding heart, or was that hers? 

 

“Got it?” She asked breathlessly. 

 

“Got it.” 

 

“Good.” She wrapped her arms behind my neck and pulled me into a kiss, quickly biting my lower lip. I walked her backwards into a wall, and pressed my body to hers. Her hands fell to my shoulders, nails digging into my jacket and pulling me closer. My hands travelled down to her small waist, slipping under her shirt and lightly scratching at the warm skin. We broke apart for a chance to catch our breath, and just stared at each other, panting. I couldn’t control myself for any longer than a couple of seconds before pressing our lips together again. She rolled her hips against mine, and I damn near lost my mind, tugging at her shirt-

 

“Bora, break’s over!” Haseul called from the other side of the door. We broke apart again. My lipstick was smeared on her face. 

 

“Um....” She mumbled between breaths. 

 

“It’ll be okay.” I my thumb, then cradled her face with my other hand; she leaned into my hand, and relaxed as I wiped my lipstick from her face. I fixed her hair up a bit, too. “You’re good to go.” 

 

“Thank you.” She hugged me tight, burying her face against my shoulder. “I’ll text you when I get off work.” 

 

“Get going before your boss hates me, please, cutie?” I kissed the top of her head. “We’ll finish this later.” Her grip on me tightened for a moment before she let go. She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, then hurried out the door to get back to work. I fixed up my hair and makeup, then left the room. I winked at Bora as I walked past her, sipping on my iced americano.