Another fashion show, another look, another fuss with makeup artists, renting clothes in showrooms, preparing models for the show. You are a celebrity stylist. There are several models attached to you, whom you must accompany from and to, make sure that everything is perfect. One of these models was Eduard.

A Romanian guy with a unique appearance, a rather private person, calm and very good at doing his job as a model. The nice thing is that you don't need to argue and deal with him for a long time. There will always be a compromise.

You are sitting on a high chair, leaning back, eating some overly sweet Japanese snack with sakura, reading messages from landlords, deliverymen and others. After a moment, you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn around. Eduard is standing in front of you. You raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak.

"How's the rent goin'?" He asked nonchalantly. In response, you just shrug your shoulders, explaining that deliver will be here soon. He nods, then clears his throat, adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose and continues, "why did you become a stylist? Why not a model, huh? Your appearance... You would've been accepted."

He smiles, folding his arms across his chest, leaning on the dressing table, examining your appearance.