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just give me a minuteA/N: I don't actually know much about NYFW so sorry if any inaccuracies.
Fashion week is always the worst.
For attendees, it's figuring out which shows are worthiest of attending and trying to get caught in a street-style "do" and not on a street-style "don't."
For models, it's days of snide designers and tiny meals the weeks before. It's hours upon hours of exhaustion and makeup and hair and outfits on, going on again and off again, and of hoping your agent booked you into the good shows so you actually end up with something other than fried, crimped hair.
By the third show, Jessica is frustrated and tired and all she wants is to go to McDonalds for a nice, juicy burger and two cups of the largest sized coffee they offer. Despite having looked forward to coming back to the country where she grew up, New York Fashion Week only makes her want to jump off a cliff.
Someone shuffles in behind her, and she sighs, ready for another attack on her eyeliner by something that feels more knife than brush. She turns around, only to be met by a peck on the lips.
"I got you coffee," Heechul whispers mischeviously, and Jessica notices the cup in his hand. She takes a big gulp and closes her eyes in bliss from incoming wave of sugar.
"You're the best."
After New York Fashion Week, Jessica spends a month going here and there across the country. With plain makeup and a new haircut, only a few people recognize her.
She spends a week in LA catching up with friends. Sunny (named so aptly for the weather) suggests they visit the set of some Korean film that's being filmed on the beach, some mystery-drama-blockbuster directed by Kim Heechul. Her eyes twinkle, which she mentions the possible hot Korean actors they could meet.
"If I wanted to meet some sissy flower boys," Jessica laughs. "I would have stayed in Korea."
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