𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, han seojun.

𝗧𝗪𝗢.

chapter two

( 1115 words )

★

종일 널 찾아 헤매다 오늘만큼은 참아보자고

IT IS A RAINY DAY IN SEOUL when Yebin makes her way around the city, a small handbag hangs over her shoulder. She had just received a call from her new school-to-be concerning her enrolment. They had been in contact with her mother who'd picked out the school herself before Yebin had taken off on her own. The coming Monday would be her first day in a public school in years, which is an exciting thought, she admits. It's everything she's yearned desperately for in the midst of her booming career.

Before that, however, she first has to get herself a new card for her savings, so she is off to do exactly that. Unlike quite a few other girls she had worked alongside with, who all came from influential parents and were born with more money than they could fathom, Yebin considers herself great at financing. Sure, up until she was six, her family had been considered as an upper middle class in European standards, but that had all gone downhill quickly enough, leaving them bankrupt for a couple of years. She'd only ever started profiting after working as a child model for five years. A majority of her earnings sitting in her previous bank account (managed, and now confiscated, by her mother) are of the work she'd put into the past two years alone.

She struggles to keep her hold on her umbrella as the rain pours heavily on those on the ground, making her regret wearing the way too thin cardigan instead of a thicker one to block out the wind, also blowing her hair every which way.

It's Friday morning, so the streets are mostly filled with working adults who are rushing from point a to point b. Another notification pops up on her lockscreen, most likely a message on Stargram, so she quickly mutes all notifications before pocketing her phone back. She'd unfollowed her previous agency, leaving her with an official following count of zero, which had sparked yet another debate over her career. She would deal with that whole ordeal later.

She tries not to pay too much attention to her pronunciation when speaking with the banking clerk, showing him her passport and government issued identity card indicating that she's of them despite the slightly noticeable odd projection of her voice. Sometimes she looks at the sky and wonders why she'd been blessed with a mind less secure than a toy padlock. Even this was gnawing away her insides every time she opened her mouth. It's not like people would notice it, however, too distracted by the way she adorned herself in ornate jewelry and had a flawless face.

It all goes by smoothly and before long, she's got her online banking activated and part of the cash she'd pulled before her arrival wired into her account, ready to be used at a moment's notice. The clerk's bashful smile at her word of gratitude is much needed fuel for her depleting stock of energy. Securing a home for her potential income of money, check.

She waits in line at the nearest coffee shop she could find, which happens to be right at the entrance of a relatively large mall right across the street, and scrolls through the numerous ads on her screen, searching for something to suit her narrow range of abilities. A small notice catches her eye. It's on a brochure a woman slightly older than her is flipping through, so Yebin approaches her with a polite expression.

Turns out, a little known brand had their base in the very shopping center she is at right now. She jumps at the opportunity and submits an application through their minimalistic-looking website while sipping on her iced americano on one of the plush leather seats. It's not like she's nervous, because she knows that one look at her name and portfolio would send any hiring agent scattered in this industry.

There is no way they'll reject me, is what runs through her mind when she gets a sudden call from a number she recognizes as the clothing brand she'd just applied to and true to her thought, the person behind the phone asks for an in-person meeting. By some miraculous event, they don't give her a later appointment and offer for her to come in right then and there.

That is how she finds herself in the following situation: strapped to a chair and chained only through the sheer power of the men's enthusiasm. Said men being the photographer himself, accompanied by the director himself.

"We are a very small team, which I understand if you are not used to, but I assure you that we're well on our way to widening our reach internationally!", Shim Myunghwan, the photographer exclaims. Yebin isn't sure if she's secretly terrified or highly amused by his vigor. She looks over to the other person behind the desk, nodding intently. None of them look that much older than their early thirties.

"How about we talk about our contract?"

Yebin nods at the director, scooting closer to the edge of the seat, "When are the working hours?"

Min Huicheol is the name that's carved into the wooden desk plate. He replies quickly, "We shoot mostly indoors in our studio, so it's very flexible. Weekends and afternoons are more suitable for you, I would assume, since you said you've entered your last year of high school."

The girl nods, leaning back. "Do you pay hourly or per job?"

"Your starting rate would be 35,000 won per hour. We mostly work on editorials and campaign shoots for our stores here and in Daejeon, so it can vary per month. "

Yebin ponders for a while in silence, picking out the calculator app on her phone before punching in a series of digits. Her expression remains unchanged throughout the minutes that go by without a word, before she sighs. Good enough to get by, she thinks. I'll just cut down on groceries and hopefully find a place that won't cost me an organ... or two.

A shiver runs down Mr. Min's spine, unbeknownst to all others in the room. If Seo Yebin were to represent his brand, he would be able to expand the business in record time. He already has a male model in hand, though not as much of a household name as her, but the amount of new opportunities he'd be getting would still be virtually limitless in terms of reaching a larger demographic.

Reaching for the sheets of paper across the coffee table, amused by the men's tensed shoulders, she makes a decision.

"I'll sign the contract."