“Camellia Sofia Lee, don’t do this to me, please.”

No matter how much I nagged, it fell on deaf ears, again and again. I went around the counter and placing the can from my hands down, I squatted on the scratchy linoleum to appear as miserable as I possibly can. Thanks to the movement, another myriad of water droplet fell to the ground, but I had a bigger issue at hand than my wet hair.

“This is salmon. Your favorite.” I nudged the small, aluminum plate as if that could help in any way. “Smell it, it’s salmon. I’m not kidding you.”

Taking a pinch of pulp, I brought my fingers to Melly’s nose, but my dear cat shrunk back and didn’t stop until only her pinkish nose was peeking out from her hiding found behind the trashcan.

I let out a sigh and went to wash my hands in the sink. Was I wrong? No, I wasn’t. It was her brand, her favorite flavor... Right.

After realizing what the source of the problem might be, I side-eyed my cat her paws leisurely, in the safety of the trashcan still.

“If you dislike it that I fed you later today, you better get used to it,” I warned.

Like she was understanding my words finally, Melly lifted her round, green eyes at me. The cat person I am, I felt myself falling for her charms right away; however, I controlled myself just as quick and without wasting more time of convincing my cat to eat something (she’ll eat, sooner or later, she has to), I plopped back down on our comfy, blue couch to scroll through the fashion/gossip site I’m surfing to stay on track, The Keen Eye.

I was most curious of the Fashion Week’s runway shots, of course. As lucky as I was, I could attend three of the shows, but I had around twenty more to check out and write a review about.

I clicked on the first show that popped up: Krool by Hannah Kim.

Knowing Hannah’s works from before I expected bold colors and simplistic designs – and that’s exactly what I got, except for delicate additions like funky patterns and buttons at the most random places.

“Interesting,” I murmured while zooming in on a picture where the model was wearing an oversized boat neck shirt with a row of additional, non-functional buttons leading all the way down to their knee. I wasn’t sure I like it, but it certainly left an impression on me.

I was so deep in my analysis, I didn’t even wince when I felt the featherlight touch of a fluffy tail on my calf.

“Look who left the trashcan behind.” Melly didn’t answer, well, not like she could. Nevertheless, I like talking to her and I think she likes it too. “Come here, miss.”

My cat obediently hopped up next to me and although she clearly disliked there’s a laptop in my lap preventing her from curling up there; she nestled in between my body and the cushions and resting her front paws on my thigh, placed her head on top of them like she was interested in what I’m watching.

I fondly caressed the space between Melly’s ears then turned back to the photos.

One click on “Next”, and I was staring at Sehun again, this time in a sleeveless top with a weird spiderweb pattern and similar pants cutting right above his ankles. Is there one show he didn’t walk?

At first, I tried solely concentrating on the clothes he was wearing. The fit was good, but it didn’t go with the pattern at all for me, the pants – I wish I could have looked at the pants but instead, I found myself looking at Sehun. At his feet, his hands, his face, his eyes. Such intense eyes.

I momentarily closed mine to get a hold of myself. I didn’t understand my reaction. Yes, I haven’t met him in five years, but I’ve seen him countless times on the internet. I knew he’s modeling, that he’s making a name for himself in the industry and is gaining popularity for his powerful runway walk and handsomeness...

I allowed myself to linger on his face, to see if it’s the changes which fascinate me. But he hasn’t changed much in my eyes. Sure, his features became sharper, more mature, somehow, yet no matter how desperately I was hoping to spot the difference; inside the well-proportioned, lean body on the picture I saw my lanky, awkward friend who did everything in his willpower to skip PE.

For a long second, I really did nothing but gaze at him, trying to recall the moment I saw him on the runway, waiting for the same feelings to surface. Nothing sort of happened. Okay, I thought while moving forward to the next model and next design to inspect. That means I was only surprised I saw him there. If I checked ahead, I could have known and didn’t react the way I did.

Coming to this conclusion gave me the peace I needed to continue.

I finished and posted my cover on Fashion Week before eventually, most likely, passing out on the couch because I roused drowsily when the key turned in the door and it opened, creaking.

“Hyejoo, come and help me with the groceries!”

Recognizing my sister’s voice, I jumped up. Melly remained asleep on the couch.

Jaekyung passed a large bag to me without a word when I saw her. This way she was finally able to close the door with her free hand and kicking her heels down in front of the shoe cabinet we could barely squeeze between the door and the wall, she marched into the kitchen area to start unpacking.

I collected her shoes and put them away before following along.

“It’s good you’re up for once,” Jaekyung remarked while placing a can of milk, a set of eggs and a large basket of lemons on the countertop. “If it wasn’t for the shopping though, I would scold you for staying up when I clearly asked you to go to bed, don’t wait for me.”

“In my defense, you didn’t exactly tell me.”

I was being a bit cheeky, but I couldn’t help it. I don’t like it when Jaekyung tells me what to do. When we agreed on moving in together, we agreed on being equals. My sister never stopped treating me like a child.

“Well, I left you a note on the fridge and you can read. Don’t try to outsmart a lawyer,” Jaekyung made it clear and lifted a neatly trimmed eyebrow at me. “Help me stock? Please?”

I only hummed in response but when she walked around me to get to the other side of the counter, I gave a concerned look to her moving back. She sounded like she had a long day at the office - and when I say long, I don’t necessarily mean that it’s her third day the week working overtime. As sad it is, it’s normal for her. I was more worried about my sister’s emotional state. She’d been grumpy lately and I had a feeling that -

“!”

The sudden curse leaving Jaekyung’s mouth pulled me back to reality and caused Melly to awake with a hiss.

I leaned over and gasped when I found my sister lying on her back, her face stuck in a painful expression. What the...?!

“Are you hurt?” I asked after moving closer to her but afraid to move her body. “What happened? Can you move?”

I was torn between finding out what happened while I zoned out and trying to assess how serious her injury is.

The next moment, everything became clear.

Jaekyung let out a groan and getting back on her feet with the help of the edge of the counter, she promptly pulled off one of her ankle socks and threw it in my face.

I was so stunned by the turn of events; I couldn’t even catch it beforehand.

“Can’t you dry your hair before prancing around the house?!”

You could have put on slippers and wouldn’t have slipped, is what on my mind was, but Jaekyung didn’t seem to be in the mood to take talking back so I just picked up the fallen, sweaty sock from the floor and said:

“Yes, I can. Sorry. Are you okay?”

Jaekyung must have realized she’s behaving like a lunatic, throwing her nylon hose in my face like a soap opera mom; because the frustrated frown disappeared from her forehead and her posture visibly relaxed.

“I’m fine, just...”

“Bad day?”

“Yes. My manager, the cashier... whatever,” She gave up explaining already, one more thing I wasn’t surprised by.

At least we could peacefully, and silently, stock our old fridge and fill our lunchboxes for tomorrow.

Once we were done, Jaekyung ed her pin-striped blazer and took out her hair tie, letting her long, black hair cascade down her back, finally free from the tight bun on her nape. For a second, she seemed like my seventeen-year-old sister whom I could always turn to, whether I was happy or sad, whom I always admired for being smart and ambitious.

Then, with Jaekyung’s next words, the illusion disappeared.

“It’s the third time I do the shopping instead of you, I won’t do it again. You know, how busy I am.”

I bit my tongue to prevent my true feelings from surfacing and after wiping my hand in a tablecloth and grabbing my laptop from the couch, moved towards our shared bedroom.

“Okay. I’ll go to bed now.”

“Wait.”

I looked back above my shoulder, anticipating what more she could want. A small part of me was hoping for words I knew it’s unlikely I hear.

“I need the laptop, leave it here. And dry your hair before you catch a cold,” Jaekyung finally said, and with that pulled out a stack of papers from her bag to settle down by the coffee table. More work, of course. “Also, why did you need to do the afternoon shift this time? I don't remember you telling me.”

Even my patience has its limits – I didn’t want to get into an argument at midnight, to possibly disturb our neighbors, gain another strike from our mean landlord and lose more of what I have with my sister; but at the same time, I wanted Jaekyung to know I don’t owe her an explanation.

“Goodnight,” I said, maybe a little more pointedly than I wanted, purposely not answering her question.

“Goodnight,” Jaekyung murmured back, already more occupied with the paperwork she was reading through than what I said. Why did she ask in the first place? Oh right, she had to.

Slightly frustrated, I retired to the bedroom. I left the door ajar, so Melly won’t scratch at the door at two in the morning to be let in, then laid down on the mattress with a sigh.

Through the tiny gap, I could see Jaekyung hover over the table. Her eyelids were fluttering rapidly, she probably needed to make effort the stay awake. Her hand holding the pen seemed diligent but fragile. She didn’t even have dinner or take a shower before going straight back to work, I realized.

I closed my eyes, trying to take my mind off my sister’s problems. After all, even though I was aching to help her, I couldn’t. Even if I could, Jaekyung would hardly accept it.

Pulling the flower-patterned duvet over my head, I drifted off to a dreamless sleep, silently praying for an easier tomorrow for both of us.

* * *

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

Melly looked me in the eye, mad offended, before promptly turning around in the cat carrier, with no intent of leaving it very soon.

I let out a sigh and read through the doctor’s orders, to make sure I’m not making a mistake this time... and to hide my embarrassment for buying my cat expired food. How could I shop from the discount isle? I never do. Did I feel this hopeless? I’m on a budget but I’m trying taking care of my cat to my best abilities, I wouldn’t - Well, seems like I did, anyway.

While Melly fell into a slumber in the carrier, nose buried in the paw-print blanket I embroidered for her, I returned to the bedroom to sort out my clothes on the bed. Before the unfortunate trip to the vet, I was preparing for the clothing swap party I organize regularly.

I held up a burgundy cashmere sweater I oh-so-love but sadly can’t fit my body into anymore and inspected it closely to see its condition. I didn’t want to give away something lacking.

And what if I sold it, came the idea on a whim, suddenly bombarded with awful flashbacks of my latest overspendings like this vet bill for example... but I shut the idea down as soon as it came. No, these clothes find better owners in people I know, I reasoned in my head while caressing the soft material of the sweater with my fingertips. I must work harder and learn to spend less.

Five minutes later the doorbell rang, and my regular guests arrived – Eunbi; and her friends from dance club, Mirae and Jihyo.

“Where is Melly?” Mirae asked, first things foremost, her kohl-lined eyes scoping the area of the living room for the sight of my cat.

“She’s not feeling good today. It’d be best if we let her rest.” I said.

Jihyo nodded, causing her short, blonde bob move along; and linked arms with Mirae.

“It’s alright. We’ll go inside then and put out our stuff.”

While I acknowledged their plan with a nod, Eunbi jumped in my neck, successfully catching me both off guard and balance.

“Hey,” I yelped, finding support by holding onto the top of the couch. Eunbi didn’t budge.

“I was a bit worried about you. Are you okay?”

I needed a second to find out what she means, when I did, I blinked back at my friend surprised.

“Everything’s fine? I told you, chances are I imagined him looking at me.”

“I don’t know, I’m not so sure about that,” Eunbi mused before showing up a stuffed bag in her hands giddily. “Anyway, I have just the right thing to take your mind off it. Let’s go!”

She was undeniably right – not much later, laughing at each other’s fashion choices while freshening up our wardrobe, my worries seemed to vanish.

“Take it, it fits you,” Jihyo urged Mirae who was trying on a short, blue dress. It was a bit tight on her chest which troubled Mirae, but I had a solution for it.

“I can alter it for you, if you want.”

Mirae stopped staring at her reflection in the big, vintage mirror I have in the corner of the bedroom in favor of lifting glinting eyes at me.

“You would do that? Thanks, Hyejoo!”

“I hope you ask good money for it,” Eunbi whispered in my ear when her friends weren’t listening.

I folded a t-shirt I snagged from Jihyo, instead of answering her silly suggestion. This cloth swap is free, how would that be if I charged them afterwards?

Like she heard my thoughts, Eunbi added.

“She’s a friend but you should have some business sense. You do it free for once, they’ll want it free forever.”

“’Free forever’ sounds like a good name for a collection,” my final response was which made Eunbi roll her eyes playfully.

Mirae eventually decided to take the dress and even took the matching blue earrings I bought with it as a one-plus-one deal. My heart hurt, seeing one of my favorites taken away (I can get so attached to clothes, it’s ridiculous) but I comforted myself with the pretty ankle boots from Eunbi and olive knitted skirt from Jihyo. I could see myself completing the look with the white off-the-shoulder sweater I saw the other day while window shopping, and I already felt better.

We were just about to wrap up, when the doorbell signaled one more swapper I didn’t expect to accept the invitation.

I walked to the door and I gasped when I saw who’s standing in front of our apartment block.

“Ria?”

“Hi. I couldn’t come sooner, sorry.” She said in the door phone casually. “Will you let me up?”

“Yeah, of course.”

After an elevator ride, Ria entered the apartment with three paper bags, sunglasses on, and in a leather jacket I knew is real. I was taken aback greatly but did my best to act natural.

“The traffic is terrible in Cheongdamdong,” Ria explained without being asked, craning her neck towards the room where she heard voices from. “Everybody is over there?”

“Yes, but... Ria, wait.”

I was too slow for Ria’s enthusiasm – she busted into the bedroom with a large smile on her face and poured the content of her bags before saying anything.

From behind Ria’s narrow back, I saw tens of designer clothing fall onto the bed, some are old, but some brand new, I could spot the tags.

As well as the mortified faces Eunbi’s friends made.

“What is this?” Mirae asked, looking at Eunbi questioningly afterwards.

Ria let out a small laugh, which I would have found adorable if I didn’t sense the oncoming confrontation.

“Oh, excuse me. I didn’t do the introductions. I’m Ria, Hyejoo’s friend, and you can take any of these clothes you like.”

“Ria, as in Choi Rhiannon?”

Jihyo’s question caused Ria’s smile to drop.

“Let’s go out for a second,” I advised, putting a hand on Ria’s shoulder, but Jihyo wasn’t finished.

“You think you can just come here and act like that?”

Eunbi clicked her tongue at the attitude.

“Don’t be so harsh.”

“She started it,” Jihyo said, her knuckles whitening as her grip on the jeans she was holding, tightened. I saw hurt in her eyes. “Why don’t you argue with her?!”

“No one is arguing with you. This is simply a misunderstanding,” I cut in before Jihyo could have said something and pushed gently on Ria’s shoulder. “We’ll be back in a second until then, please, don’t touch anything.”

Shutting the door after us, I led Ria to the living room couch and after snatching a pillow for her, ushered her to take place. Ria plopped down and hugged the pillow to her chest tightly, instead of sitting on it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

I poured her a glass of lemon water from the pitcher on the nightstand before answering.

“I don’t think you did it on purpose so I wouldn’t consider it bad.”

“But they do consider it,” Ria replied bitterly and took a sip. Her face contorted into a grimace. “This is as sour as those people in there.”

I smiled and took a gulp myself, savoring the refreshing taste of lemons on my tongue.

“There is a certain set of rules we keep to when we swap.”

“Like an etiquette?”

“Yeah, let’s call it an etiquette. It sounds fancy, I like it,” I said, before recognizing Ria tensing up and going to correct. “It’s not as serious, though.”

Ria hummed and put her full glass down on the coffee table.

“And where did I fail adjusting to your etiquette?”

“You brought more clothes than allowed and some of the clothes you brought I doubt you can give away.” I told her as it is, deciding to get on with it in band-aid fashion. “I... When did you buy these? Recently? I saw the tags.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t shop for them.”

“Did your stylist buy them for you?”

My question made Ria’s eyes double.

“I don’t think so? My stylist keeps saying she’s going broke.”

I had to agree with a long nod. I didn’t know said stylist but replaying in my head the scene of Ria pouring those dresses out like they were leftovers; I could imagine why the stylist said that.

“Well, most stylists buy clothes with their own money and either bring them back to the designer afterwards or leave it to the client to buy the clothes if they like.” I explained before lifting sincere eyes at Ria. “I think at least half of those clothes your stylist needs to bring back and when she notices them missing, she will freak out.”

Ria placed her chin on top of the pillow, her full lower lip painted pink dropping into a pout. She eerily reminded me of my cat, Melly, when I scolded her. The sight tugged on my heartstrings.

“Will she really? I mean, they’re just clothes.”

The blunt response made me almost spill my lemon water.

“Yes, I can assure you... How about, we take out the ones with tags and reduce the rest to five pieces? The girls will understand.”

The last sentence was more of a hopeful thought than a fact. Jihyo seemed pretty worked up in there and according to Eunbi’s description of her and Mirae, they probably interpreted Ria’s innocent intent as arrogance and show-off.

Like confirmation of my worries, the door of the bedroom opened to reveal the distressed duo of Mirae and Jihyo. They were holding one of Ria’s clothes each.

“We have something to say,” Mirae said.

“I tried to stop them, but they didn’t listen to me,” Eunbi caught up to them lastly, her expression as dark as the jumper she had on.

I nodded to Eunbi in acceptance before turning to Ria, wondering if she wants to hear the girls out.

Ria sent them a hard glance before shrugging.

“Go ahead, I suppose.”

Jihyo showed up a classy, white blouse by Ivenchy. It seemed to be perfectly spotless, not worn for more than day, so I immediately knew Ria only brought it here because she doesn’t like it... and that was fine.

“At the end of the day, we came here to swap clothes we don’t want anymore, regardless of price tags and quality. Even if our circumstances differ,” Jihyo said. “And this blouse is so beautiful, it’s very cool of you to give it to us. I’m sorry and thank you?”

I exchanged looks with Eunbi, in her eyes a hint of amusement. We must have thought the same thing: it's not the apology we were waiting for but it’s just perfect.

Ria turned her head back above her shoulder, her gorgeous side profile showing. I didn’t find her annoyed but there was something in her expression that let me believe she didn’t miraculously forget about everything previously.

“I only give it to you if I find something I like, among yours,” Ria said. “Care to show me what you brought first?”

Jihyo’s mouth gaped, and I’m afraid, if Mirae didn’t elbow her side a little, it would have stayed like that.

“Of course, let’s continue then.” Mirae answered quickly.

The addition of Ria’s “bunch” prolonged the event by an hour, naturally. There were more things to choose from and for someone seeming to not care much about fashion, Ria proved to be hard to please. Or, maybe she disliked that nothing frilly or leathery was offered. (I tried talking her into a flittered top, but she immediately stopped me. No flitters, got it.)

Mirae and Jihyo left around seven, leaving me in the company of Eunbi and Ria. While I hung my new treasures in the wardrobe, Eunbi spread out on the bed to check my blog and Ria made herself comfortable on the beanbag in the corner, flipping through the latest edition of Eterno.

“Wow, you wrote a lot,” Eunbi exclaimed, her eyes going through the article quickly. “You’re not worried you scare your readers off with the word count?”

“Hyejoo has no reason to be worried, she knows what she’s doing,” Ria said.

I looked back at them from the corner of my eye, right in time to see Eunbi give Ria a once-over.

“Who are you, again?”

“Scroll down a little, you can find my name above the briefing she wrote about my outfit.”

I muffled my laugh into the sleeve of the sweater in front of me. Ria never fails to surprise me with her straightforwardness, in a good way; and the fact Eunbi doesn’t let it phase her makes even better entertainment.

“I had too many observations to make. I tried to cut it down but eventually decided to release it in two parts.”

“Wait, you mean this is half of it?” Eunbi’s voice went higher and higher as she reached the end of her sentence. “You’re crazy!”

Ria nodded.

“I agree, but it’s not a bad thing.”

“I’m a fashion fool and I’m proud of it,” I rested the case here with a wink.

We were in comfortable silence for a while, until Eunbi’s sharp inhale rang alarm bells in my head.

“What is it? Did you find a typo? If I misspelled someone’s name again, I’m in serious trouble,” Words stumbled out of me in panic as I jumped on the bed to get closer to the laptop.

Eunbi shook her head.

“What are you overreacting for, then?” Ria cut in impatiently and joined us on the bed at instant.

Lying next to the each other in a row, faces pressed lightly to each other so we can all see the screen equally, I held my breath back as Eunbi was scrolling down to show us what unsettled her.

“Read this,” Eunbi said and brought the mouse to the top voted comment and its replies.
 

Re: “Now in Fashion – Fashion Week Highlights ½"
9vsvh4: What about Oh Sehun? You have no comment to make?
↳ fashionsista: Yeah, now that I think about it, HJ never writes about Oh Sehun...!
↳ jiji56u: Wait, really? He’s very popular right now.
↳ fashionsista: @jiji56u Yeah, I don’t remember her writing about him once and I read her every day. Search for “Oh Sehun” in the search bar, nothing comes up O-O
↳ jiji56u: @fashionsista OMG You’re right!
↳ rarararoo: Is HJ pressed or something LOL

“Are you pressed?” Ria asked me before checking the comment section again. “I don’t know who Oh Sehun is, but he sounds like a big deal... Am I missing something?”

I broke eye contact with Eunbi in favor of answering Ria - as if I knew how to answer. The comment caught me off guard completely, as the fire I had put out long ago for a reason, caught on the embers; and just like that, with a weak but insistent spark, it lit up stronger than ever before.