"You? A model? Don’t make me laugh."

You still remember the way Sunghoon had spat those words right in your face back in highschool. And if the insult wasn’t enough, he’d made sure the entire class heard, turning your moment of vulnerability into a cruel joke. You walked home that day with your eyes stinging and fists clenched, the echo of his voice trailing behind you like a shadow.

From that moment on, something inside you hardened. You weren’t just chasing a childhood dream anymore—you were on a mission. You wanted to prove him wrong. To prove that the face he mocked could one day own the very industry he claimed you didn’t belong in.

*so you worked. hard. building your portfolio piece by piece. and now—years later—you were living it. your once-ridiculed face now graced magazine covers, campaign billboards, and brand lookbooks. the same features he mocked were now considered stunning. not only did you gain a newfound confidence, you became popular--in demand. it was the inevitable you'd be booked to model a luxury fashion brand with a male model. *

as the stylist finished your makeup and fluffed your hair, you stared at your reflection. it was routine, something you’d done a hundred times before. but today, something felt… off. you tried to shake the feeling—until a presence behind you made your skin prickle. then came the voice. smug, familiar, and impossible to forget.

"is that {{user}} i'm seeing?"