If Hell was a real place, it would look just like this - spoilt brats whining about the weather, militant bosses screaming in your face every three seconds and a frustrating lack of order; simply put, way too many emotionally unhinged individuals trapped in a stuffy room. The air-conditioner is on full blast, but the cool breeze does nothing to drown out the voices and the anxiety that wafts in the air.

Do Kyungsoo does not know what he expected when he decided to go into fashion, but this was definitely not it.

It's a flurry of footsteps, the stifling stench of sweat and the occasional shout; a mix of frazzled stage managers, frantic designers and impatient models. No one quite knows what to do except for the special few armed with clipboards and a permanent frown, cellphones attached to their ears even as they talk to models and designers alike with a stern face. Kyungsoo isn't exactly sure what to do, either, but he knows that this is his first showcase and he will damn well pull it off without a hitch. 

He marches over to where his area is - a crudely written 'D.O.' is the sole indicator that yes, this is indeed his collection's section - and double checks the list of models. 

"Twenty minutes!" Minseok shouts, voice echoing throughout the small backstage area and face scrunched up in a mixture of anticipation and worry.

Kyungsoo's eyes dart back to the list, this time with more urgency than the last. Beside all the models' names are a bunch of indecipherable chicken scrawls, but all of them will be walking for other collections too, and so they will have to race against time, changing in record speed to get ready for their next walk down the runway. There are many names on his list, and none particularly stand out. He knows of them; at least, he thinks he does, as he stares blankly at the paper. 

No, wait. He has to get done.

He shakes his head. 

"Alright!" he barks, turns around to face the group lounging on the floor, of all places. The five guys - much too tall and much too attractive compared to Kyungsoo - look up simultaneously, laughter abruptly stopping. "I'm Do Kyungsoo. State your names."

"Do Kyung-what?" someone pipes up. The boy sports scary eyes and protruding ears, and Kyungsoo briefly wonders how someone with such a manic face ended up as a model.

"The designer for D.O.," Kyungsoo sighs. A hand goes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He just wants to get this over with. "Now, please stand up and introduce yourselves."

All five models get up simultaneously and Kyungsoo can see just how much height those lanky limbs give them. They tower over him by at least half a head.

"I'm Chanyeol," the one who asked the question said. His voice is surprisingly deep, Kyungsoo notes, for such a youthful face. 

A boy with rainbow-coloured hair (really? Is this what youngsters are into nowadays? Death by hair dye?) is next. "Oh Sehun."

"I'm Tao, and he's Kris," a panda-eyed boy with a slightly - okay, very - intimidating face says, pointing at the poker-faced blond next to him.

Kyungsoo nods and turns toward the last model. This one is shorter than the rest, though not by much, but he by far exudes the most confidence. 

His skin is the darkest, a shade that reminds Kyungsoo of mild cinnamon and white coffee, his jawline sharp and smooth. (Not that Kyungsoo is keeping track or anything. This is simply what he does - distills everything down to the sum of their parts, even people.) Kyungsoo tilts his head toward the model, inviting him to do his introduction, but instead of a name, all he gets is a smirk and a playful wink.

No, that's not confidence, Kyungsoo corrects himself. It's arrogance.

A second passes, then another.

"You don't know my name?"

"No, and I'm not sure if I want to."

Kyungsoo looks down at his list anyway, because he is a designer and this is his job and his showcase and he will damn well make sure it goes off without a hitch.

"I'm Kai," the model says, just as he finds the boy's name. 

Ah, the infamous Kai. The uninvited arrogance makes so much more sense now. Kyungsoo vaguely remembers his younger sister mentioning the name once or twice, shoving some video or another under his nose. Kai is likely the most popular of the rookie models, having been a professional dancer with a large online following before making the partial transition to fashion. His looks, combined with a dancer's physique and an Internet star's fanbase, quickly made the dancer--model a huge hit with major brands. If it'd been up to Kyungsoo, though, he wouldn't have chosen the boy; hardly anything is worth the trouble of handling a diva.

Kyungsoo turns away from Kai and faces the rest, ignoring the indignant look that flashes across the model's face. 

"Alright, you will be going on in twenty minutes," Kyungsoo starts. His voice is steady and unwavering, deeper than what most would expect, and this gives him an edge over others. "This collection will be the one opening the show, so you guys better not give me any problems or I will personally see to it that this is the last job you have with SM Fashion."

Sehun, Chanyeol and Tao gulp, their nods more akin to little head jerks. Even Kris looks a little unnerved, playing with his fingers and fidgeting. Kai, though - Kyungsoo doesn't even want to look at Kai. 

"I trust you know your orders. Remember, the first one up is Dancer Boy."

Kyungsoo turns and makes to leave the area. He lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in, but jumps at the feel of a hand on his shoulder.

"Designer-hyung! So, you know I dance, then," Kai says. The other four look on curiously, though Kyungsoo doubts they can hear the conversation over the loud chatter of, well, everyone. "Why'd you pretend not to know me?"

"I didn't know who you were until you said your name," Kyungsoo explains. 

Kai pouts, tightens his hold on the elder's shoulder. "Can you get me a glass of water? The heat is killing me."

"Go get it yourself," Kyungsoo says, shrugging Kai's hand off. The warmth still lingers.

Kyungsoo still doesn't quite know what to do, and so he paces about backstage, walking here and there with no set purpose. Perhaps he could look for Jongdae or Minseok and (pretend to) discuss some important administrative things. And so, he walks about for a bit more, looking for a familiar face - or any face, really - with a clingy model trailing after him, a desperate child who doesn't know the meaning of 'no'.

He can't find them, though; and he supposes it was a given, since Jongdae is likely busy with the models and Minseok, with making sure nothing s up. But Kai's incessant chatters grow increasingly annoying. Even if Kyungsoo isn't paying attention to what he's saying, that doesn't discount the fact that he is being a pain in the .

"Come on, it's so hot backstage and I'm opening the show so my hair's going to be all ruined. I'll treat you to some chicken or something after the show."

Strike one. 

"And my makeup, too! It's just going to run everywhere and I'll look like - no, wait, I never look like . Just a bottle of water, please?"

Strike two.

"The hair and makeup will ruin it and my face won't look as nice and that means your clothes won't look as nice and oh man, won't you just get me some water, please?"

Strike three.

Kyungsoo is usually an even-tempered person. He's got a pleasant disposition, really, and is for the most part able to brush minor annoyances off with a mere scoff and glare. This uncanny ability to stay calm under any and all circumstances is one he prides himself on.

But Kai is not a minor annoyance. He is trailing Kyungsoo around backstage like a lost puppy with too active a mouth, hands grasping on to the elder's shoulders every so often and whining like the little diva he is. 

And so, Kyungsoo abruptly stops. They are right in the middle of the backstage area, where all eyes are on them; the make-up artists to one side, stylists to another, and models and designers already gathered in the line-up. He can feel the eyes on him as he turns around and faces Kai, shoves him backward with just a light push.

"Listen!" Kyungsoo snaps, voice rising. He can't help it. He's like a rubber band - you can pull and pull and pull and nothing will happen, but once that breaking point's been breached, there is no turning back. "I don't know and I don't care how old you are, but if you are old enough to be working here then you better ing well not be a childish brat. Do your own , or don't get it done at all."

Yes, Kyungsoo swears a lot. 

"Maybe you think that just because you're famous, you can get away with being a diva, and fine, you can be one. Go ahead. But I'm not your slave, so you better it up and go get your job done like a good little boy."

By the end of it, Kyungsoo's chest is heaving and he can feel the warmth on his face, a combination of exhilaration and anger. Kai is standing still, feet rooted to the ground and mouth agape. He blinks once, twice. Kyungsoo doesn't know what is running through the boy's head, and he doesn't want to either.

Then it hits him: he is a nobody, a lowly designer, and here he is, lecturing the hell out of one of the most famous people in the industry.

Ah, .

Calm down, Kyungsoo thinks. It's not too late to save your dignity. He throws one last glare - albeit a shaky one, one that betrays his uncertainty - and storms off to the fitting area. 

 

Kyungsoo hides out backstage for the rest of the show after begging Jongdae to cover for him, and he is grateful that he doesn't bump into Kai again. He does, however, at some point make eye contact with Oh Sehun, who throws him an incredulous, amused look that Kyungsoo has no idea what to make of; at least it wasn't hostility, he reasons. No one, not even Jongdae or Minseok, asks him about his sudden outburst, not when everyone is too busy running around and ensuring the show goes smoothly. 

The show does go well. In spite of being torn apart viciously by Kyungsoo, Kai managed to open the show without a hitch, strutting down the runway with the kind of confidence that only comes with self-assuredness and good genes. Kyungsoo watches as Kai walks to the beat of the music and the chatter of the crowd, bright lights flashing about that cast nary a shadow on the pitch-black platform, highlighting the sleek lines of his body and the strangely magnetic gaze of his eyes.

His mahogany brown trenchcoat and black turtleneck fit Kai perfectly, he muses. They suit the model's lithe frame, make him look even more handsome even with heavy makeup and harsh lighting. And when he hears the claps, the murmurs of approval, it feels like all of this has finally, finally been worth it.

 

SM Fashion has always been known for its rather crazy after-parties, and it's the first time Kyungsoo has been to one. The hotel is one owned by the company - Kyungsoo briefly wonders how filthy rich SM Industries actually is, then brushes the thought off since he doubts he can fathom the sheer extent - and located not far from their showcase studio; and since the company's booked rooms for the whole staff, it just gives everyone more leeway to party as long as possible.

"Kyungsoo!" Baekhyun calls out, waving him over to a couch where a number of other designers have gathered. Kyungsoo gives a polite smile and a wave, weaves through the crowd - the only time he's ever grateful for his small size, really - and takes a seat on the arm of the sofa. He grants himself a second to relish in the company of people.

The other designers who've taken part in the showcase today are all here: Baekhyun, Yixing, Luhan and Junmyeon. Though they'd been invaluable friends and colleagues over the course of painstakingly designing and producing his works, Kyungsoo is the rookie here, the one with the least experience, and it makes him feel self-conscious. Even if all five of them have distinctly different styles, arguably rendering it impossible to compare one against the other, Kyungsoo still feels frighteningly inadequate next to them.

"That was a great showcase, Kyungsoo," Yixing says. The boy has a sweet smile and a polite disposition, a soft way of speaking that calms the heart. 

"Thanks, Yixing."

Jongdae, SM's casting director, and Minseok make their way over, the former with a bottle of vodka in his hand and a huge grin on his face. 

"Time to party!" Jongdae hoots. Minseok shakes his head at the other's antics, face-palming when he sees Jongdae attempt a fistbump with Junmyeon, who tries to return the gesture with way too much enthusiasm. Kyungsoo laughs; Junmyeon may be the oldest, but it's times like these where he swears the elder's actually a try-hard grandfather.

They eventually end up talking about something or another, but Kyungsoo's stomach drops when Baekhyun opens his mouth next.

"So, what happened just now?"

All eyes land on Kyungsoo. Sharp, eagle eyes, out for gossip and blood and humiliation.

(Well, no. Not really. He knows - hopes - his friends are nicer than that.)

"Everyone saw what happened," Luhan adds, swirling the glass of wine in his hand. "I don't think I've ever seen a model at such a loss before."

"He still walked quite well though," Yixing says, an attempt to divert the conversation. Kyungsoo catches the boy's eyes and tries to convey his thanks.

"Yeah, well, he'd better. Or Minseok here will kill him," Suho laughs, cheeks red from the drinks. 

Baekhyun holds up a hand. "Stop changing the topic! So, Do Kyungsoo, care to tell us what happened?"

"Nothing happened," Kyungsoo mutters. He brings the glass of scotch up to his lips, feels the bitterness on his tongue but swallows anyway.

"You're usually so calm though," Baekhyun muses. There is a sparkle in his eyes that speaks of mischief and trouble. "Is it because he's Kai?"

"So what if he's Kai?" Kyungsoo asks, genuinely confused and a little affronted. 

"You know what I mean," Baekhyun says. Luhan joins in, adding a loud 'Ooooooh!' for effect and waggling his eyebrows. It's not long before Jongdae and Junmyeon catch on too.

Kyungsoo sighs and throws his hands up in the air. "I don't even know why I associate with you idiots."

 

They leave one by one. (They always do.) He drinks a little himself, though nowhere near as much as the red-faced Junmyeon, watches silently as they trickle away. First, it is Jongdae, who finds some fellow staff who have more of a penchant for kidding around than Kyungsoo does; and, as always, next is Minseok, who follows after the grinning boy to make sure he gets home safe. Then it is Junmyeon, who is carried away by Yixing when he has one too many drinks.

Finally, Baekhyun is propositioned by some model or another who invites him over to their table for drinks; he looks toward Luhan and Kyungsoo, a silent invitation, but Luhan is the only one who nods. And so, Kyungsoo stews alone with a glass of scotch for company.

He takes a sip of the bitter alcohol. It burns down his throat, but it's not an unfamiliar feeling, and it's not unpleasant either. He vaguely wonders if his superiors will come hound him for the little display of anger earlier; but SM is not one for public confrontations. If they were to grill him out, it would be behind closed doors, like a parent who only leaves scars where no one can see.

Kyungsoo watches. He likes watching people, watching the way they interact, even if he doesn't enjoy such interactions himself. He's glad he backed out of the idol life before it could fully come into fruitition. He was talent-spotted by SM Industries for his voice but with some good connections and well-placed legal maneuvers, managed to defer to their subsidiary, SM Fashion, instead. That was four years ago. He's now twenty-three, but with hardly a year of experience under his belt.

And it's unsettling. He can feel himself fidget even as he thinks about it.

But now is not the time to worry, not when bright lights are flashing in a dark, dark room and there is alcohol. And, damn, he is much too ready to borrow happiness from tomorrow. 

He shakes his head, puts the glass down on the table. Luhan is dancing with Rainbow Hair, pretty eyes crinkling at something the taller one said; Baekhyun's with the model from before, Jongdae and Minseok at the same table, all doing shots. He can't find Junmyeon and Yixing but hopes they're not lying in a ditch somewhere.

The couch sinks. He almost falls to the side, but catches himself just in time. He turns his head, squints a little to try and make out the face beneath the flashing lights. And as hard as that is, there is no mistake that the person that's just sat down next to him is none other than Kai.

Kyungsoo groans. He hasn't got enough alcohol in his system for this.

"What do you want?" Kyungsoo mutters. He knows he's pouting - can feel the jutting out of his lower lip - but, frankly, he's got none left in him to care. 

Kai is right next to him. He can feel the hem of Kai's shirt brushing against his own. He tries to lean away from him as subtly as possible. The boy doesn't look or sound drunk, though his eyes are slightly glazed over and there is a faint smell of smoke that lingers.

But there is no hostility emanating from him, only body warmth. Maybe he's here to apologise.

"Eh," Kai says. He throws an arm over the back of the couch, fingers dangling down by the side of Kyungsoo's shoulder. "I had a rough day."

Kyungsoo stiffens. This brat isn't even going to apologise after intruding on his personal space?

"So you're not apologising?" 

Kai shrugs. "I had a rough day."

"Oh my god," Kyungsoo grits out. This is when he knows he has finally lost it, because as much as he may swear to the heavens and beat someone down with mere words, he is not the kind of person who says 'Oh my god'. "We all have rough days, but I'm the ing designer, not your slave."

"Doesn't mean I didn't have a rough day." 

This nonchalance is infuriating, Kyungsoo thinks. His heart is racing now, blood rushing through his veins and into his face, and he desperately wants to punch something. (Preferably Kai.) He doesn't know if this dismissive attitude or the bratty one from earlier is worse.

"Well, I'm pretty sure my ty day was ing rougher than yours."

"Potty mouth," Kai says in a sing-song voice, an amused smile playing on his lips. Kyungsoo swings a punch at him, but even he knows it's a half-hearted one, dampened by his own tipsiness and general dislike for violence. Kai easily dodges it, catches the fist with his own hand. "Nuh-uh, violence is never the answer."

"Why're you such a brat?" Kyungsoo whines. He vaguely registers the possibility that yes, he will regret this later, but he's too far gone to care much about sounding as whiny a diva as Kai right now. 

"Anyway, what's your name?"

"Oh my god, you don't even know my name. I'm so done with you." 

Kyungsoo tries to get up, but he stumbles over his own feet. He's caught by Kai, who wraps two arms around his waist and sets him back on the couch.

"I don't think you're in the right state to walk," Kai says. There's a furrow in his brow. "And how many drinks have you had?"

"I dunno. Maybe five, six? Didn't keep track," Kyungsoo muses. Then he frowns. "Wait, I'm angry at you."

"Why?"

"I've never seen such a horrible display of childishness relative to biological age in my entire life." 

Kai laughs. His eyes crinkle up and his mouth widens in an unabashed manner, his laughter a higher pitch than Kyungsoo expected. The sound of it sends his heart into a frenzy.

"You're so verbose when you're drunk." He's finally stopped laughing and wipes fake tears away, then looks up as two shadows loom over. "Oh, hey Sehun."

Rainbow Hair - ah, Sehun, that's his name - says something back, but all Kyungsoo focuses on is the arm that's s around his companion's shoulder. Luhan sends Kyungsoo a lewd wink worthy of Baekhyun.

"Play it safe, kids," he laughs. Kyungsoo's always thought Luhan's laughter was what fairy dust and glitter would sound like, but right now, he just wants to put the boy in a headlock and make sure he needs to sleep with one eye open for the rest of the month. 

"You know what," Kyungsoo says, getting up. He's wobbly, unsteady, but less so than just now. "I'm leaving."

He feels two hands latch onto his arms. Kai's hands. "I'll help you."

"No," Kyungsoo insists. He pulls his arms away, almost trips over nothing but rights himself at the last second. "No, I'm fine."

He's adamant about his refusal but Kai is just as stubborn, if not more so. The younger boy trails behind him, knows that he will simply shake off any physical attempts to help, follows him like a safety net of sorts. He knows. He can feel the presence behind him and it's distinctly Kai. At some point in the trek toward his hotel room, he tries to punch Kai and get him to go away, but it doesn't work and he simply gives up.

The 'ping' of his card unlocking the hotel door never sounded so satisfying.

"Now," Kyungsoo groans. "Can you leave?"

Kai has still got a little furrow between his brows, but he relaxes his shoulders and concedes defeat.

"Alright, alright." He makes to leave, suddenly looks uneasy as he fiddles with his fingers, and it makes him look so much younger. "Also, sorry."

Kyungsoo doesn't register his last words, though. He's too caught up in the fact that Kai's just entered the room directly opposite his.

 

Morning comes sudden and fast. The orange light filters through closed eyelid, shakes Kyungsoo out of his sleep only to send a wave of pain coursing through his head, one has him sputtering obscenities as he fights the sheer fatigue that's weighing down his limbs.

His memories are a blur. All he remembers are fuzzy faces, neon lights and the sensation of warmth. 

From: Kim Jongdae
DUDE i hope u got some a$$

From: Luhan
Did you play safe??? Remember you don't get love till you get the glove!!!!!!!

From: Zhang Yixing
can't find ur sweater

From: Zhang Yixing
sorry wrong person. also junmyeon asks if u've got his folio he's freaking out

From: Kim Minseok
careful when you come back to the office jongdae luhan and baek are going to HOUND yo

Kyungsoo groans and rolls back onto his bed. He doesn't have the energy to deal with this .

And when he hears a sharp rap on the door, he groans even louder. The thought of playing deaf is attractive, but the knocks simply don't stop. They keep on coming, one after another, and Kyungsoo is pretty sure that whoever is outside has more than two hands because god, that is annoying. 

He gets up with a frown on his face. Each step sends a throb of pain up to the back of his head.

When he finally opens the door, he has no chance to brace himself for the impact. He lands -first on the ground - here's yet another injury to add to the list, he thinks - and can't quite breathe, what with all the bodies piled atop of him.

"You have three seconds to get off of me."

"You're shorter than Luhan, I don't think you can do much."

"Three..."

But Kyungsoo is stronger than he looks, even with an injured and a hangover, and he doesn't like waiting. So he shoves the three people off of him with a loud grunt, stands up with arms akimbo, ready to ruin the three who dared tackle him. He puts Baekhyun into a headlock within a split second.

"Sorry, we couldn't stop them," Minseok shrugs, though he doesn't look particularly apologetic. Junmyeon is shaking his head and Yixing wears an amused smile on his face. 

"Stupid Baek, stupid Luhan, stupid Jongdae," Kyungsoo spits. Baekhyun's still trying to get out of the headlock, Jongdae and Luhan now cowering behind Junmyeon.

When he finally lets go of Baekhyun, Luhan even has the gall to say, "So, Kai, huh? Never thought you'd go for the tall, dark and handsome type."

"What are you talking about?" 

"You brought him back, had your way with him, yeah?" Baekhyun says. He waggles his eyebrows and gets a forehead flick in return. "Ew, violence."

"What bull. Nothing happened," Kyungsoo fervently insists. The memories come flooding back, scenes and conversations surfacing amidst the lingering pain. Thankfully, though, they're nothing to be embarrassed about; if his memory's to be trusted, nothing more than a few choice words went down. "Really. Just look at my room. Does it look like anyone else has been here?"

Everyone takes a cursory glance around the bedroom, suitcase unpacked, floor free of clothes or suspicious items. The disappointed looks that surface almost immediately are so funny that Kyungsoo almost laughs out loud.

"Also, before you forget," Minseok begins, a welcome reprieve from the sudden silence. "We have a meeting later."

"Wait, what meeting?" Jongdae asks. 

"To decide on the face for your brands," the elder replies. He doesn't even look upset, just exasperated. "Seriously, guys, work with me here."

The rest get to talking about their potential models, and Kyungsoo uses the chance to grab some aspirin from the pantry. The pills slide down his throat smoothly, their bitterness nothing compared to that of burning alcohol and his numerous regrettable nights. Kyungsoo and alcohol usually don't mix, and he's glad that this time round, nothing bad happened.

An oddly familiar figure walks through the door. He's tall and tan and lithe, broad shoulders familiar and silver hair uncombed, one hand reaching up to rub bleary eyes. 

"Kyungsoo? Are you alright?"

The voice is uncharacteristically soft but definitely familiar, he decides. It makes Kyungsoo want to crawl into a hole and die because he knows what words will come next.

"Kyungsoo?" Luhan asks. A wide grin stretches on his face, not even bothering to hide it, that bastard. "No hyung?"

"Well, I don't use 'hyung' to call people I've-"

"Had with?" Luhan pipes up, eyes sparkling.

The boy's been said to have manga eyes, the kind that are adorned with sprinkles and glitter in close-up frames, but right now Kyungsoo swears all that glimmers is pure evil.

And so he proceeds to place Luhan in a headlock to the laughter of everyone else, narrows his eyes at Kai until the model slowly backs away.

 

It's not Kyungsoo's first meeting, but it sure feels like it. The atmosphere is surprisingly professional, surprisingly tense, considering the number of idiots that bring down the average mental maturity. (Namely: Luhan, Baekhyun and Jongdae, of course.) There are models here, too, and it's a bit of a tight squeeze, but nothing that Kyungsoo is unfamiliar with.

"Okay, here are your allocations," Minseok announces. A click of a button and the next slide comes into view.