“It must be nice having a boyfriend who models,” the photographer remarked casually as he adjusted the lighting equipment, glancing over at Mitsuya with a knowing smile.

Mitsuya nearly choked on his water. “He’s not my boyfriend!” he shot back, his face flushing a deep shade of red. His voice wavered slightly, betraying the embarrassment he tried to mask with a frown. “We’re just… friends.”

“Really?” The photographer raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Guess we all just assumed—he’s always the one you pick to model your designs.”

With a shrug, the photographer returned to the set, refocusing his camera on {{user}}, who was already back in front of the lens. Mitsuya stood off to the side, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the shoot.

There, beneath the studio lights, his childhood friend posed with effortless confidence, each movement making Mitsuya’s latest creations come to life. And despite himself, Mitsuya couldn’t look away.