Platinum Slut.

𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 || 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄

━━━ M/N L/N
was anything but ordinary.

To the casual observer, he appeared as a dazzling, charismatic male—an intoxicating blend of beauty and chaos that demanded attention in every room he graced. His gummy smile was disarming, a seductive weapon that drew people in like moths to a flame, while his flamboyant style turned heads and left whispers in his wake. He was adored, worshipped, and revered, yet beneath that glossy facade lay a wicked playfulness that only those closest to him dared to unravel.

━━━HIS MOTHER, the eccentric art gallery owner, was a kaleidoscope of chaos and love, spinning through life as if suspended in a cloud of cannabis smoke, laughter bubbling from her lips like a vintage champagne fountain.

With high-end designer outfits that screamed extravagance, resplendent with vivid colors and bold patterns, she was a force of nature—an unfiltered whirlwind of creativity. Each ensemble was carefully curated yet utterly spontaneous, always accessorized with one of her prized Birkin bags, their luxurious leather an extension of her flamboyant spirit.

"M/N, darling!" she would exclaim, her voice a melodic blend of warmth and urgency, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You simply must look perfect for my exhibition! It's all about flair and seduction! Remember, sweetie, as long as there's a trust fund, there's a goal! so just..put it in when you have the chance."

This peculiar wisdom dripped from her lips like the finest nectar, her tone laced with an innocence that made it both endearing and utterly outrageous.

━━━━━━

M/N adored her unapologetic wildness, how her mind danced from one idea to another, like a butterfly flitting between blossoms. As he lay sprawled on a plush chaise in the garden of their sprawling villa, he was tethered to an IV drip—an essential remedy after another night of having a wild animalistic orgy.

The sun bathed him in warmth as he watched her from the shade, her laughter ringing through the air like a joyous melody.

She was currently attempting to play golf in their backyard, her swings wildly inaccurate. "Fore!" she called out, missing the ball and sending it ricocheting off a nearby tree.

M/N chuckled, the absurdity of her antics a constant source of amusement. "More like abstract art, ma!" he shouted back, a grin spreading across his face.

His mother had transformed their lives, taking him from a childhood marked by shadows to a vibrant world filled with art and wealth.

When she had left his abusive father and moved to Seoul, M/N had known little of the chaos that would ensue.

She had built her gallery into one of the most sought-after venues in Asia, all while raising him with an exuberance that was sometimes overwhelming—But for all the glitter, there was a sense of emptiness that clung to him.

'Why do I always feel like the punchline of my own life?' he pondered, the thought brushing against his mind like a fleeting breeze.

He was often the life of the party, charming and funny, yet his relationships felt fleeting—like cotton candy melting on his tongue, sweet and ephemeral.

━━━━━━

"Do you want a cocaine-induced IV instead?" his mother had jokingly offered once, the absurdity of it all lingering in his mind as he lay there, IV fluid dripping into his veins, He could picture her bright smile and wide eyes, completely unbothered by societal norms.

"No thanks, Mom, I'm doing just fine with the regular one.." he'd laughed, knowing full well she was serious in her own twisted way.

Despite his privilege, M/N felt the weight of expectations on his shoulders.

His mother had ensured he attended the best art schools, funding his education and even paying for him to pass his classes.

"Just keep smiling, darling! Life is art, and you're my masterpiece!" she would proclaim, her faith in him unwavering.

But the truth lingered unspoken: behind the laughter and sparkling glamour was a young man grappling with his identity and purpose.

M/N found himself reflecting on his many friendships, especially with the lovely women who adored him for his charm and ridiculousness. He often carried tampons for them, delighting in their giggles. "Of course, here! I have some good quality ones!" he'd quip, tossing a brightly colored tampon into the air with a playful grin, the absurdity of it all his secret delight.

Yet, underneath the laughter, a gnawing hunger for something more profound stirred within him. The romances he flitted between felt like fleeting highs, leaving him craving a deeper connection. Each dalliance was ephemeral, like a ghostly whisper in the dark, leaving him gasping for the thrill of something real, something that would ignite his soul.

Tonight, however, M/N would find a new victim for his satisfaction.

As the clock ticked down to his mother's grand exhibition and after-party, he stood before a full-length mirror, slipping into a black tailored suit that clung to him like a second skin. It was sharp, luxurious, and a touch dangerous—a perfect reflection of the wild ride he was about to embark upon. The fabric glimmered under the soft lighting of his room, a silken promise of the confidence it would bestow upon him.

He meticulously styled his hair, fingers working like a maestro conducting an orchestra, each stroke a deliberate act of artistry.

M/N had learned the importance of presentation from a young age, and tonight was no exception.

He wanted to exude an air of effortless elegance while harboring a flicker of rebellious charm. With each twist of his hair, he felt more like the man he aspired to be—a mesmerizing blend of allure and audacity.

In this moment, he was not just M/N L/N, the charming socialite; he was a fantasy, a vision of magnetic allure and raw power, ready to devour the night whole.

He could feel the energy pulsating around him, the promise of indulgence and chaos swirling in the air—an electric current that ignited his senses.

Little did he know, tonight would be a turning point—a collision course with two unknown formidable forces, awakening something deep within them, something primal and utterly thrilling.

With a final, admiring glance in the mirror, he adjusted his suit jacket, a wicked grin spreading across his face, eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation. This was his moment to shine.

He would become the captivating heir everyone yearned for, leaving a trail of broken hearts and dazed admirers in his wake.

As he stepped out into the crisp evening air, a shiver of excitement coursed through him. The night was alive with possibilities, and he was at the center of it all, poised to seize every moment—He could feel the weight of his mother's words echoing in his mind, guiding him as he ventured into a world that was his for the taking.

Tonight, he would not just attend an exhibition; he would be the exhibition.