my trembling heart is about to explode, you're so beautifully colored like a r t. hey, shining ! you're my style. you're a jewelry shop only i know. the style, style that suits me best. baby, you're so stylish ! i wanna collect mileage. so, so, so stylish. so, so, so stylish.
there are knots of nerves in his abdomen that have him doubting his current path towards asterism’s group of members, cameramen, managers, and stylists in search of a special someone, but it doesn’t diminish his desire to spend time with @daeunisms. that is what keeps him searching for the girl who’s surely plucking a fuzz of fabric off someone’s shirt that no one else would notice but her. just the thought makes him grin to himself, and it only brightens when he catches sight of her. “hey, you,” he gives a wave of his hand when he secures a spot walking next to her, more than appreciative of the face mask he’s wearing to cover the redness of his cheeks. hui is trying his best not to sound too eager just in case she turns him down. “am i allowed to steal you a way for a little bit?”
· • · • and that’s exactly what daeun’s doing — manicured nails grasping at pieces of lint with a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she examines the boy walking alongside her — making sure his outfit is absolutely perfect. the sound of a familiar voice shakes daeun from her thoughts ( which is something she always needs ! ), a small smile gracing painted ruby lips. “yeah, i think i’m done for the day,” she muses, in a surprisingly delicate tone — despite the fact her eyes are still combing over the boy’s outfit, searching for imperfections. she gives up after a few more moments — manicured hand waving the boy away, and she turns to hui with a ( slightly ) brighter smile this time, loose tresses falling in her face. “sorry. just needed to make sure they looked their best. — what did you want to steal me for ?”
he actually tries to think twice before replying that ‘ fuck me ’ with an ambiguous joke, but, unfortunately, something slips way too easy before he can stops. “ just that? no first date first? ” fortunately, it wasn’t as heavy as the one he first came up to - and still, ludi wonders if he looks like an asshole right now. of course he wanted to lighten up the girl’s mood, but they were not close enough for that. “ sorry. ” he quickly adds, fearing that he might have stressed her even more. and as quickly as it, ludi knees down so that he could help her. the boy chuckles. “ i was about to ask if everything is okay, but… ” says. the but i already know the answer stays in his mind. god, if he didn’t ask if everything is okay, what is he supposed to ask now? “ what happened… ” his voices slowly dies. however, his eyes lights up. he is holding the sketchbook that opened with the fall. “ your drawings are really good. ”
· • · • his crude joke causes a scoff to slip past her petals — manicured brows cocking upwards as she shifts her gaze to meet his own — the corners of her lips slowly contorting into a smirk. “can’t that be a first date in itself ?” she quips mischievously, although frustration is still apparent in her voice. she sighs in relief as she watches ludi sink to the floor — diminutive hands relaxing once he begins to help her retrieve her bag’s spilled contents. “my heel got caught in the carpeting — oh, those ?” a small, genuine smile twists onto her lips as she watches him examine her designs — pride coursing through her veins as he compliments her art. “thank you. those are my designs, — for select x. i’m hoping the company will approve of the sketches so i can go ahead and purchase the materials to properly create them,” she practically hums the sentence ; it’s an unusually delightful tone, coming from daeun. “i was on my way to begin sewing some samples... until this happened.” she scrunches her nose up as she mutters the sentence — her signature cynical tone surfacing.
hello ! i wanna bring in a second character when i get home from work today ... do you guys have any mwf ? i’m torn between like five fcs so i’d like to know if there’s anyone you guys want :~)
hello ! i have been so so busy and i have a little bit of a cold so i’m gonna try my best to pump out my replies :~( i’m sorry if i take longer getting to certain replies but my brain feels so fuzzy from all the medicine that i’m trying to do what i immediately have muse for ... i should have everything done by tomorrow tonight though uwu !
the hair atop hui’s head is in disarray, flying every which direction and intended to be concealed by the beanie he still has clutched in his fingers—he knew there was something he was forgetting to do on the way over, but now he just lets the beanie fall upon her desk once he’s close enough. he can’t bring himself to care much about his appearance, however, since it IS about three in the morning and he was expecting more of an emergency kind of emergency when daeun demanded his presence over the phone. not that he’s complaining, because he enjoys ANY time he happens to find himself in the company of the stylist. her room can compare to the state of his hair, and minghui finds himself unable to fight off a little smile at her sharing her workspace with him. “i’ll definitely take some coffee after, yeah,” he answers with a nod, his smile widening when he meets her gaze. he wastes no time telling her she can do whatever she would like with him now that he’s there, as she surely already knows. “what out of this organized chaos am i gonna be put in?” he teases his fingers along the zipper of a jacket, noting the patches ironed on and the blood, sweat, and tears that daeun has put into it.
his compliance brings a warm smile to her ( usually ) solemn features ; surprised that he wasn’t chastising her for bringing him over under false pretences. although, she’ll argue that this was, in fact, an emergency — she was about three seconds away from a complete & utter breakdown before she called hui. a small hum spills past her lips — a hum of gratitude — as she slips a jacket off a mannequin ; a worn denim jacket, over-sized & straight from a 90′s levi’s catalogue. though, a closer look at the vintage jacket will reveal the personal touches daeun has added — rips along the hemline ( that she did by hand ! ), an asymmetrical black fabric sleeve, & multiple scribbled phrases along the back and above the chest pockets. “try this,” she muses, diminutive hands extending the jacket towards him — her grip delicate. she reaches behind her for another item — a silk black button-up, with an exposed chest. “and, um — try this button-up underneath ? i removed the top three buttons, so it won’t button up all the way. but — i’m not sure if the jacket’s too bulky. i can position the jacket on the mannequin so it exposes the button-up, but it might be — harder to maintain the look with too much movement involved. i’m going to add an exposed zipper tapping to the jacket — against black fabric, like what i used on the right sleeve. so, if they wear this with jeans, it won’t look like an, uh — canadian tuxedo.”
· • · • she answers her door with a ( loud ) sigh of relief — chestnut-coloured tresses pulled into a rather disastrous braid while her manicured digits grip a pair of fabric scissors tightly, as if they were going to sprout legs and run away if she loosened her hold. “i didn’t mean to wake you up,” she begins, though her tone doesn’t really suggest remorse — nor does the way she’s tugging on his wrists, guiding him into her office ( which looks far more disastrous than her attempt at a fishtail braid ! ) the mannequins are decorated with an assortment of new outfits — colourful shirts & sweaters were placed underneath vintage denim jackets, and patterned button-ups found their home underneath worn bomber jackets. she sighs — this time emitting the sound out of frustration. cocoa-coloured orbs shift their gaze from her creation, to peer at hui — curiosity ( and a twinge of hopefulness ! ) etched into her seraphic features. “would you mind, uh — trying some of those on for me ? i’m not sure how these outfits will look on some of the boys and, well — you have the same build as some of them. a human is always a better judge than a mannequin... i can repay you with, uh — something to eat. maybe some coffee ?”
hello ! i’m itching to write so if you see this and would like to write, shoot me an im so we can plot a thread or finish / start plotting, whichever we gotta do first ! i also posted an open starter here if you’d like to reply uwu ...
· • · • she overestimates her strength, more often than not — it’s not uncommon to come across daeun with two full suitcases in her hands & both a backpack and purse slung across her shoulder. she’s never known how to “pack light” ( is it even possible as a stylist ? ). typically, one of the other stylists or someone near daeun would offer to take a load from her hands ( usually after she gives a brief protest ), but she wasn’t with anybody today — there was no schedule today, but daeun woke up with a clear vision ; a fresh idea that was itching to be brought to life. so, she lugged every piece of fucking fabric ( tucked away in a suitcase ) she owned from her apartment, along with cartons full of embellishments and a separate suitcase holding her trusty sewing machine — there’s one at the office, but it isn’t her’s and she doesn’t feel right creating on anything but her own pride and joy.
and leave it to daeun to not dress appropriately for the task at hand ; parading down the hallways in sky-high stilettos, as if she was only carrying a handbag — not two suitcases,a handbag, and a cart with multiple cartons stacked atop one another. and she should’ve seen it coming, but of course she didn’t ; she’s always too deep in her own thoughts, in her own worries to think logically. that’s why she lets a startled yelp when her heel is snagged by a loose thread from the carpet ; immediately dropping the bags and letting go of the cart to catch herself on a nearby railing. “fuck me ! i don’t have time for this today,” she moans, a solemn expression washing over. she drops to her knees, diminutive hands scrambling to gather the contents that had spilled from her handbag ; a mess of cigarettes, make-up, and sewing needles, buried underneath her planner & go-to sketchbook.
one of minjae’s least favourite times of the day was vocal training, because it was a constant reminder of one of his flaws. he knew he didn’t have the most stable voice, the general public had made it pretty clear to to him the point that he had slowly began to believe it. maybe to others, his voice was amazing, but to him, it wasn’t enough. he wanted to be better, he wanted to push for perfection. although, did perfection exist in this cruel industry?
he sighs deeply, a heavy backpack weighing down on his left shoulder as he shuffles through the corridors of the company, searching for an empty room where he could lock himself in for hours. he’s audibly humming a tune that wasn’t his, instead was a tune he had heard a few times around the company lately. he wasn’t sure where it had come from, what it was, or who it even belonged to, but it was catchy and he found himself bobbing his head to it quite often.
he’s just turning a corner, heading straight for his usual practice room. cooped up in the far end of the building, then his free hand gently clutches the handle, pushing down and opening the door, only to be greeted with a presence already. “o-oh, i’m sorry, i thought this room was free— it usually is—” he cuts himself off, pressing his lips together, eyes slightly wide as the nerves slowly kicked in. “i’ll go and find another room..”
she wasn’t sure why she came to the practice room, of all spaces. frustrated musings from the saboteur within her had driven her out of the office ; seeking a space less crowded, with less rustling and less noise. she’s never dealt well with noise when under stress ; she needs silence. silence to drown out her inner criticisms, silence to focus on finding a solution.
the practice room has to be the least silent place in century, but she found herself drawn towards the room regardless. perhaps, she was drawn to the room because of how spacious it was — nothing but clean floors and mirrors, equipment tucked neatly against one of the walls. well aware of the group’s schedules, she figured it’d be empty. and somewhere empty was just what she wanted. and so, she sits in the middle of the practice room, legs criss-crossed, fabric upon fabric spread in her lap — sewing needles and fabric scissors within her reach.
cocoa orbs are so fixated on the fabric that she doesn’t even hear minjae’s footsteps. his voice snaps her from her trance ; silk falling between her fingers as she looks up. a faint smile graces her petals as she gives a small shrug in his direction, sheepishly avoiding his gaze as she picks the fabric up again — expecting him to probe if he notices an ounce of frustration in her features. she’s sure he can smell the cigarettes and the stench of something stronger clinging to her tresses ; and she’s quick to clear her throat, as if the noise would distract him from the scent. “you don’t have to find another room. i can sit against the wall while you practice. you know you never bother me, minjae.”
LEE DABIN (YEONWOO), CISFEMALE, SHE/HER — i wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve seen KIM DAEUN around century records, considering they’ve been working here for ONE YEAR. according to their file, they’re a TWENTY year old STYLIST who you can often find working with SELECT X. on a good day you might notice that they’re IMMACULATE, CHARISMATIC, CULTURED, & INNOVATIVE, but if you catch them on a bad one they can also be RECKLESS, PEDANT, TROUBLED, & ILL-TEMPERED. FORMER AMERICAN MODEL AND PAGEANT QUEEN, her favorite brands to style with are MGSM, GUCCI, VETEMENTS, VERSACE, MOSCHINO, ETRO, DSQUARED, & OFF-WHITE, and her zodiac signs are LIBRA SUN, GEMINI MOON, & VIRGO RISING. pinterest ( x ), stats ( x ), plots ( x ).
trigger warning: body image issues, depression, drugs, anxiety, emotional abuse and neglect. pinterest contains images of pills, cigarettes, and slight nsfw images.
born in busan to affluent parents ; daeun’s mother formerly held the title of “miss korea” while her father was a famous actor
surrounded by fame and beauty since she first came into the world, daeun learned from a young age that beauty and money equal power. her mother first introduced daeun to the pageant world at the tender age of three ; a nervous and quiet child simply tagging along while her mother judged a pageant, too young to be aware of the toxic industry her mother was grooming her to take part in
she was first introduced to make-up when she was four ; she begun modelling and preparing for pageantry shortly afterwards. she was no longer a wondrous and nervous child ; instead daeun was groomed into a miniature replica of her mother, stripped of all identity, only recognized and praised for her looks
eager for daeun to one day take home the title of miss korea ( and her father being eager to break into the american entertainment industry ), their family made the move to new york in 2002 when daeun was four and began entering her in all eligible child beauty pageants and signing her with an american modelling agency
this grooming took a toll on daeun ; who struggled in elementary and junior high to be her own person, to be comfortable in her own skin. she was rather robotic as a child, giving calculated answers on the playground as if the sandbox was a pageant stage. her struggle with her identity led to major depression and anxiety, while the pressure to win the competitions and to land more photoshoots led to daeun developing self-esteem issues. not only was her inner critic attacking her, but her mother was constantly monitoring daeun’s weight, counting the calories daeun ate, and pressuring her to diet
the constant pressure to always be beautiful, to weigh a certain weight caused daeun to begin using a multitude of drugs as a “crash diet”, recommended to her by a former pageant winner who she met backstage
she’d just been crowned as a 2nd runner-up in the “all-american girl” beauty pageant, and she was vulnerable ; her mother began assaulting her verbally after she’d lost the crown, and her inner saboteur was poisoning her mind with self-depreciating thoughts. this vulnerability, this depression was all daeun needed to accept the offer of this “crash diet”
she won her next pageant, but ended up fainting later that night at an “after-party” her mother had thrown ( mainly for herself )
her doctor ordered her to no longer participate in modelling or pageants, an order they made sure pageant directors were aware of ; much to the disappointment of her mother
so, daeun began to follow her own path ; she couldn’t deny the interest in fashion and beauty, after being around the industry for all these years but she sought a new path ; one as a stylist, as a designer. desperate to find a way to express her own identity, her own image, she decided to enroll in the high school of fashion industries in new york before leaving america to return to korea for the fashion institute of technology at suny korea
she left new york to escape her mother and has barely spoken to her mother since ; her mother can’t get past daeun’s drug use, though daeun is sure it’s not so much about her health as it is losing her chance at a longer pageant and modelling career
she’s now a stylist for select x. while she has weened herself off of the “crash diet” drugs, she finds herself sometimes going back to them or other drugs when she feels insecure or down on herself
always seeks out new trends ; new ways of styling, tends to change her personal style and select x’s style up, doesn’t like her styling to be predictable or to stay the same
for her personal style, she tries to stray far away from prim and proper styling, like how her mother would style her
she is an extreme perfectionist and control freak ; very anxiety-ridden, can become easily stressed and because of this, she has a very short temper. she almost immediately calms down and apologises for her outbursts
known for her judgmental tongue when it comes to fashion ; she often pops in to see what the other stylists are doing, and usually has something to criticize
she can be harsh and judgmental, very opinionated but she means well ... it’s a habit she unfortunately picked up from her mother
very troubled when it comes to relationships due to her strained relationship with her mother and how her father allowed her mother to treat her that way ; tends to be very cynical towards love, as the love that was supposed to be unconditional failed her. so GIVE ME ANGSTY PLOTS
