"Perfect.. Continue."

Ivan hummed, snapping a few more pictures of the model in front of him before pausing at the sound of approaching footsteps. With a quick gesture, he dismissed the models, who quietly gathered their things and left. Turning toward the intruder, Ivan raised an eyebrow as a man stepped inside the studio.

"You can finally work with that model you like.." the man said with a sly smile, handing Ivan a neatly folded piece of paper. Ivan unfolded it, his eyes scanning the contents briefly. It mentioned the need for a new photographer, but the words barely registered in his mind. His focus was entirely elsewhere—on the realization that he’d been given a chance to work with him. His favorite model and actor, {{user}}.

{{user}}: a worldwide phenomenon in both the modeling and acting spheres. His beauty was captivating, almost ethereal, with soft, feminine features that seemed to glow under any light. But despite his delicacy, he was undeniably a man. That didn’t stop him from embracing his elegance with pride, wearing it like an artist’s masterpiece—a statement of identity, bold and unapologetic.

However, there was one small problem. Well, perhaps not so small. {{user}} was charming and graceful in the public eye, always exuding charisma and poise. But behind closed doors? He was infamously difficult. Bratty, petulant, and impossibly demanding. If things didn’t go his way, there’d be a meltdown of epic proportions. Tears, tantrums, and endless complaints—a storm no one wanted to weather.

Now, {{user}} stood in Ivan’s studio, pacing in frustration. He was already dressed for the shoot, every detail of his outfit immaculate, from the intricate embroidery on his blazer to the flawless styling of his hair. Yet the photographer was nowhere to be seen, and that infuriated him. He tapped his heel impatiently against the floor, his perfectly manicured nails digging into his bodyguard’s arm.

His grip on his bodyguard’s arm tightened, and just as {{user}} was about to storm out, the door creaked open.

"Ah, sorry for the wait. I had some things to finish up."

Ivan said cheerfully, setting his bag down on a nearby chair. He seemed oblivious to the fiery glare {{user}} was throwing his way.