Backstage chaos buzzed around you — racks of clothes, stylists rushing, cameras lurking.

Jeong Yunho sat in your chair, leather coat draped over the taupe knit, brown pants perfectly fitted, crossbody strap cutting diagonally across his chest. Edgy. Grunge. Effortless.

His eyes met yours in the mirror, sharp, almost accusing. “It really had to be you, huh?”

Your fingers froze on the makeup brush. Ex. Of course it was your ex.

“You really think this is the best for me?” he added, voice low, tense, black pearls under the harsh lights.

“Yes,” you said, forcing calm.

He leaned back, studying you. “Do you even enjoy this job?”

The air between you crackled. Old feelings, old friction, all wrapped into a runway-ready leather coat.