MAIN CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE ADULTS.
Jungkook will never forgive Lisa for what she did to him many years ago, no matter how stuck they are together. Nor his honor or loyalty will hold him back from doing what he has to do. But Lisa is a player...
the way that song had me smiling like an idiot the whole week because of the last scene of this chapter... y'all ain't ready.
no, they won't kiss yet. but next chapter👀
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It had all started when Lisa had been the flower girl at the wedding of one of her Thai aunts. At 3 years old, she had been dazzled by the immensity of the wedding dress. Her aunt, a worthy Manoban, had spared no expense at all. As the service was conducted and the couple exchanged romantic vows, her big brown eyes had focused on the pearls delicately sewn into her skirt. They drew beautiful daisies, the bride's favourite flower. The fabric had been soft under her furtive touch, shimmering under the natural lights reflected from the temple's painted windows. And when she looked up, her little eyes had shone excitedly because of the the veil bathed in a million small sparkles. It looked like snowdrops on a spider web.
Since then, Lalisa had dreamed of her wedding dress.
She was not interested in who the wedding would be with or where, those details were insignificant. She only cared about her dress.
For years she had saved photos, digitally or printed in magazines, of beautiful dresses. From wedding collection dresses to celebrity dresses in their real-life weddings or in movies, like Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge or Natalie Portman in Star Wars. Even dresses of queens and princesses throughout history, Lady Di's dress was iconic. However, none had completely clicked. Sometimes they were very simple, sometimes very ostentatious, sometimes they were common and sometimes very strange.
Therefore, with her poor artistic skills, she had decided to draw the perfect dress.
Every now and then she had come across the sketch, she had erased and added things, and she had changed the neckline and the skirt many times, depending on her tastes at the time. But then, one winter day on a cloudy Parisian afternoon, Lisa had finally drawn the dress that made that click.
With a curved smile, she had put the notebook away realising that she wouldn't be using it anytime soon anyway. The prospect of marriage was far away. It hadn't even crossed her mind with any of her recent boyfriends. The truth was that only one man had made her think about the importance of the groom at her wedding but that man would never marry her.
Lisa, now, could laugh at that idea because years later she was in a Vivienne Westwood atelier specially set up for her in Seoul, besides their open store for the public. Lisa wanted her dress to be exclusive, totally personal and in direct hands of the designer of the British brand that had always caught her eye and made her keep for herself all the archives she could find; her Vivienne Westwood corset collection was insanely exclusive and expensive. Andreas Kronthaler was behind her, eagerly awaiting her reaction. The man, used to make bridal dresses made of only ivory silk, made an exception to make a gown full of shine for her, however the signature corset was part of it.
