❄ Cold Relations ❄ [SEVENTEEN] ✓

Chapter 29: The Runway (i.e. Hoshi's Wild Imagination)

Kwon Hoshi strutted across the room and behind the counter like he owned the place, entering the drawer under the cash register and taking out a sketch pad and an onyx pen. The first few pages were taken up by ink drawings of a Chinese dragon and a valley of flowers. Flipping to some blank space, Hoshi perched on a stool and leaned over the counter, his right hand moving with careful brushstrokes.

The8 gestured to the fitting room. "I'm going to get changed." Hoshi nodded, and The8 emerged a new man, his cherry-colored hair complimenting his new look. "What do you think?"

"You have something going for you here, but I still feel like there's something missing..."

"Great minds think alike. And I know just what will fix that." The8 disappeared, dug through some prop-filled cardboard boxes in the back, and returned with a pair of iron nunchucks. He wielded them with expert speed and control, finishing by tucking the shaft under his arm. "Am I still lacking?"

Hoshi has learned never to argue with a guy holding a pair of iron nunchucks. "It's the perfect mix of sex appeal and intimidation. I approve."

The8 was relieved; he pushed the nunchucks under his belt and rested an elbow on the counter. "What're you working on?"

Kwon Hoshi's eyes crinkled with delight. "You'll see."

~.~.~

"Gather 'round, everyone!" Hoshi tossed some clothes into a pile on the floor and casually flopped down in a chair with his sketchpad in hand. As the last of the stragglers wandered into Room 217, he glared down at his bare wrist, as if it were a watch, and clicked his tongue. "You guys sure took your sweet time getting here."

Woozi didn't appreciate the comment, nor did he like to be ordered around, especially by his friends. "What is all this? Why are you two dressed like thugs?" Without waiting for Soonyoung's answer, Woozi turned on The8. "You're Hoshi's little puppet. Why don't you tell us?"

"What?" Minghao was flustered by the many pairs of hostile eyes watching his every move. "I—"

Hoshi discreetly let The8 know that he would handle it. "No need to get personal, Jihoon. If The8 is my puppet, then what are you to Jeonghan?" A smirk spread across his lips. "I've created characters for all of you based on what I think you can successfully pull off." Hoshi tore five pages from his notebook and passed them around. "Now get dressed and get into character—it's time to roll."

The strip of red carpet separating two queen beds transformed into a fashion runway. Joshua pranced down the aisle in a plaid sea-green shirt, gems the size of sprinkles adorning the pocket and collar, overtop a white t-shirt with crimson lettering and a pair of pale blue jeans ripped at the knees (a hot trend in South Korea... at least, it was). On the homestretch, he put his thumb and index finger together to form a heart and winked at Hoshi before walking off.

"Yes!" Soonyoung cheered. "Joshua Hong Kong!"

Jeonghan sauntered across the carpet in a black t-shirt, white bands wrapping around the waist and sleeves, and an American flag etched into the fabric above the muscle bulge in his left arm. His dark jeans were old and battered, giving him the appearance of a scrappy young man that "hit the gravel" whenever he fought. At the end of his rope, Jeonghan bit his lip, looking thirsty, wriggled his hairband free, and let his lush brown hair fall to his shoulders.

Hoshi applauded the performance, deeming it to be "picture quality," and flapped his hands like tiny wings as he said, "Dark Angel Yoon!"

The8 roamed the walkway in sexy loose clothing; when his time was up, he flaunted his weapon and beckoned his opponent with two fingers.