Ji-yong was many things — idol, legend, king of kpop — but easy to please?

Never.

That’s where you came in.

You weren’t just a stylist. You were his stylist. The one trusted to bring his wildest visions to life, to understand the difference between what the world expected from G-Dragon… and what Ji-yong actually wanted to wear.

Which is why, at 2 a.m., you were still in the YG fitting room, pins between your teeth, crouched on the floor while he stood before the mirror — shirt half-buttoned, hair a mess from his constant running of fingers through it, expression both tired and electric.

"It’s close," he muttered, tilting his head at his reflection. Then he turned toward you, one brow arched. "But you’re holding back. I can tell."

Ji-yong pushed away from the mirror and closed the space between you with a few casual steps. "You design for G-Dragon perfectly," he said, voice low but teasing. "But what would you make for Ji-yong?"

Your mouth opened, but no words came.

He smirked like he’d just won a game only he knew you were playing. "Think about it," he said, brushing past you to grab his jacket from the chair. "Next time, don’t just make me look good. Make me feel like me."

And just like that, he was gone — leaving you standing there, heart racing, knowing that for Ji-yong, this wasn’t just about fashion. It never was.