Red Thread of Fate [Vinny x Fem!Reader]

my muse is red; he's terrible but beautiful

Some people say that working in the creative fields are one of the easiest - thus least respectable - jobs out there. Which is, totally wrong. If anything, creative fields are one of the hardest jobs out there considering your success lies heavily on unreliable things such as mood, inspiration, motivation and innovation. Such things are dangerous in jobs considering a moment is all you need to make or break your career, and having things that are completely out of your control is dangerous. A risk of the highest level, and how many people are willing to take that risk? Very few people, that's what, and those who do succeed in the creative field had taken years upon years of blood, sweat, and tears to get where they are now. And more often than not, with no much recognition at all. Who likes lack of recognition? Acknowledgement of their hard work and efforts? No one.

So here is L/N Y/N is, dejectedly staring at the open sketchbook in front of her as she sips at her tea. The Empty, unblemished page of her sketchbook seems like it's mocking her; taunting her for her lack of progress, and if she wasn't as self-controlled as she was, she probably would've tossed the sketchbook out onto the busy road, the entire thing be damned.

Oftentimes, Y/N wonders why the hell she's pursuing sewing and dressmaking, but she need only remember the her late mother's passion for it. Y/N's childhood filled with pretty clothes made by her beloved eomma's very own hands, and craft with all the love of an adoring mother. Sewing was a passion Y/N inherited from her late mother, and it was the best thing that ever happened to her, as well as the most trying one.

Y/N sighs and tips her head against the glass wall, letting it's cool surface soothe the headache brewing in her temples from how hard she's been agonizing for hours now.

It's not as if it's really a school project or anything, just something she wants to do for herself, but...

Y/N really wants to make her own fashion brand. Nothing but, something more suited to ready-made streetwear clothing lines. Create her own clothes and share her work with the people of Korea. Wants to see people wear and enjoy her hard ward. She wants that, more than anything. And so she's been learning sewing and dressmaking from an early age, a little before starting middle school, really. Her style leans more towards casual, day-to-day wear; something that can be worn by anyone and everyone, no matter what gender or age or social class. Sure, haute couture is fun, but they're not really made to be accessible nor were they always practical, and that seems like a waste for nice clothes only to be worn once and never again. So, street fashion is Y/N's focus, sometimes dabbling in formal wear every now and then if the mood strikes.

But man, it's so hard to make something - anything, really - when her brain absolutely refuses to come up with something. She's not even asking her mind to come up with a revolutionary fashion collection - she's not on the level of Elie Saab, Versace, Fendi, or even H&M or Forever 21, for goodness's sake - but there's really nothing inside her head at the moment.

If someone would knock on her head, it'll probably make a loud, clanging noise. The same sound empty metal drums make when you knock on them.

"I need a muse." Y/N mutters forlornly, thinking about her trashcan that's overflowing with rejected designs and crumpled up papers and ruined sketches. Her empty sketchbooks devoid of pleasing colors and fascinating shapes. Her mannequins standing bare, displaying no creation of hers.