the share house || ot7 x reader

sixty one

you were sitting in the front seat while he drove you to the photoshoot. usually, you'd be in the back of an suv with secretary choi for something like this. but this wasn't a regular shoot. it was for eclipse threads, and seokjin insisted on being the one to take you there.

"i can't believe you're going to model for eclipse threads. and to think your modelling career started by me needing you to fill in for a model," seokjin said, eyes focused on the road. you couldn't believe it either.

"to be fair, my modelling career started strong. my first ever photoshoot was for ksj beauty. that's huge," you told him.

"i merely put you out there, y/n. i've never really handled the people who model for my brand, but i know many of them haven't received such an opportunity. eclipse threads (e.t.) saw you and thought: 'yes, this is the face we want to wear our clothes and promote them. we want her to model for us.' that's huge, y/n. and that's all you, too."

you genuinely couldn't believe it. e.t. was huge, and they want a simple law student like you to wear the same clothes multiple celebrities have worn and model them. you, over the many beautiful men and women who've been in the industry for years and have way more experience.

"i don't get it," you remember telling inguk. you had put your potential relationship aside and were slowly becoming good friends. "i'm a nobody who got lucky one time. how did they see me and think this is the person we want?"

"you may not see it, but you're a natural, y/n," inguk had said. "and you look amazing in front of the camera. you don't try too hard. you're just... real. people see that."

you hadn't known what to say then. you still didn't, but you were grateful to have someone in the industry you could talk to.

"you're not just some random girl, y/n. you have something. call it talent, call it presence—i don't know. but whatever it is, it works. e.t. and every other brand are seeing it too."

-

one day, you're dressed in designer brands, posing for flashing cameras or holding a product with a smile. the next, you're just another student in a lecture hall, surrounded by people who have no idea what you were doing the evening before.

the classroom was quiet, except for the sound of fingers tapping on keyboards and the professor's steady voice echoing off the walls. you sat near the front, your laptop open, notes half-typed, half-scribbled on the pages of your textbook.

professor na walked across the front of the room, her heels clicking against the floor with every step. she was talking about criminal law, your favourite topic. you straightened up, trying to focus, even though you were tired and surviving on barely five hours of sleep.

"in a criminal trial, the state carries the burden of proof," she said, writing the words in all caps across the whiteboard. "the prosecution must prove the accused is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. not just a feeling. not just a guess. you must convince the court with evidence."

you paused your typing, letting the words sink in. 'that's going to be me someday,' you thought. as much as your career in modelling was skyrocketing, this was the path you wanted to take. you didn't see yourself posing in front of a camera and having your eyes blinded by flashing lights. you saw yourself standing in court, voice steady, facts lined up, seeking justice for people who couldn't get it themselves.

you hoped to be the kind of prosecutor who made people feel seen and heard.

around you, students were zoning out, scrolling through social media or doodling in their notebooks. but you didn't look away. you couldn't—this was your future.