SUMMARY — The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
GENRE — smau, two idiots in love, fluff, some goofs and gaffs
WARNINGS — kys jokes, class differences, alcohol, swearing, sexual (?) jokes, mentions of drugs, guns, death, and drowning, heeseung is a loser (endearingly), reader is strong business woman but (not so) deep down is just a silly little critter
FEATURING — rest of enha, txt yeonjun & beomgyu, ive yujin & liz, stayc sumin, itzy ryujin, and more idols mentioned
DATE — published 22/06/24, completed tbd
TAGLIST — open! comment or send an ask
INTRODUCING THIS YEAR'S COLLECTION!
PROFILES. milan rejects & papa louie's character log
ONE. iowa, here i come!
TWO. akari... my #1 opp
THREE. determination for termination
FOUR. funeral POSTPONED! (written 1k)
FIVE. model hunting
SIX. betrayal of the banana (written 0.9k)
SEVEN. subscribe to my newsletter
EIGHT. throw pillows: not for throwing (written 2.2k)
NINE. email etiquette son or fax machine daughter
TEN. a present father is bad for business
ELEVEN. graphic design is my passion
TWELVE. midst the microsoft apocalypse
THIRTEEN. MODEL MAN!
FOURTEEN. pearls on my chilli cheese dog (written 1.8k)
FIFTEEN. potentially unstable chemical
SIXTEEN. drop the formalities, you don't even work here
SEVENTEEN. theft, battery and murder (of an americano)
EIGHTEEN. you ever had beef with a balloon? (written 3k)
You hated balloons. Aluminum or plastic, opaque or transparent, filled with helium or oxygen—it didn't matter. If it could be called a balloon, you thought it deserved to burn in Hell.
Sunoo teased you for your unrelenting repugnance all throughout high school; Showing up to your birthday parties with a singular balloon (just for you to take out an earring and pop it the second it was on site) or making your contact photo in his phone the Dr. Doofenshmirtz balloon. He never understood your one-sided resentment, and you never cared to explain it either.
It was too much labour to lug around a justification, so you merely wrote it under your name like a senior quote with no credited speaker.
Because who would possibly understand that you simply hated the effort? Wasting all of that breath and energy pumping some gas into delicate plastic, just for that one, riotous person to pop it and send your efforts snapping into dozens of damp, rubbery shards.
Too much energy for too little reward.
So, as you grew older, you started being that one, insubordinate person. If you sacrificed the efforts before someone else did, maybe you could spare some of the dignity and respect clinging to the sides of the poor plastic walls. Maybe then, people wouldn't try to waste their time to begin with.
Maybe that was why the kids in your elementary school slowly stopped inviting you to their birthdays, the vibrant envelopes disappearing one by one until you were 11.
And maybe it's also why you started to sit at the back of the class, away from the jokes and the rapport that fostered between seat-mates.
Maybe it's why you began to forget to the names of the people you'd been in school with since kindergarten, and why you were never given a chance to learn the names of anyone new in high school.
Maybe it's why your mouth was never dry and your throat was never sore from talking, your lips were never split from smiling too wide, and your stomach never hurt from laughing too hard.
Maybe it's why when Sunoo approached you at the tail end of your first year, you had walked right past him, unaware he was even directing his attention at you in the first place.
Inclusion wasn't something you quite knew the definition of. Merriam-Webster had tried its best to break it down for you, but foreign letters and example sentences that were more difficult to understand than the definition itself made it impossible to ever fully grasp.
If you had survived that long without knowing what inclusion was, then Sunoo could survive without knowing why you hated balloons.
One day, when you've exasperated every conversation piece after years of friendship and are left to talk only about the weather, maybe then you'll bring it up—a sentence or two to put his running thoughts at ease:
You didn't see the purpose of putting in so much effort to blow up a balloon.
Hopefully, that explanation would be enough.
You supposed you were a balloon as well.
The groupchat laid open on your desk beside the pile of paperwork you had yet to sign. It had dwindled by that point, a mere three signatures left to scribble away and toss into oblivion.
Your name looked unrecognizable, both on the white sheet below your fingers and held within the gray bubble of Yujin's message.
You felt bad—you always did when passing on plans. But something about each message that popped up made it feel like all of your organs had been scooped out of your body and put back in.
You would've gone with them if the sinking in your gut wasn't unmanageable, and the gnawing on your cheek would subside for two seconds. But when your jaw got sore with unease, as if someone had plunged a sour candy into the hinges, you thought it would be best to excuse yourself with work that could have been done in ten minutes the next morning.
When your phone went dim for the nth time that evening, you reached over to tap it alive, just narrowly missing the time frame before it turned off. You didn't know why you had kept it on for the past 30 minutes, but you reached over each time it threatened to fade away regardless.
With a sigh, you grabbed your phone from the table and swiped it open again. Though, before you put it back down, you noticed the little blue number in the top left corner.
Clicking out of the groupchat, your messages were spotless, except for the bolded, unopened words of Lee Heeseung.
You opened the chat.
I'd love if you could come by today to see the progress so far 😄
If blowing off your friends made you feel bad, the blunt denial towards Heeseung earlier that morning hit you like a baseball bat as you reread your exchange.
Your driver had been late that morning to pick you up for your meeting, and you had waited an extra 15 minutes outside in the foggy, humid air. You had time. You could have checked their progress. You could have said yes. You should have said yes.
Everyone seemed to love Heeseung, if their last conversation in the groupchat said anything. From what you had heard thus far, he was willing, easy going, fun, and a good worker.
From what you had heard.
You hired him—he was your solution to a problem you created.
Yet, you hadn't seen him once in the last week he had been at Le Désir. The last week that he had been working under you, for you.
Your eyes grew heavy as a headache formed behind them.
You hated balloons because they were too much effort, and now you sat alone in your office on a Friday night because your friends are all bonding over something you weren't included in.
But every time you went to a birthday party with balloons littering the ground, each one had been filled with the breath of someone who loved and cared enough to give away their own, precious air to make someone else happy.
The purpose wasn't in the effort of the direct payoff, the purpose was in the effort itself.
Your friends were off gushing about their new, work best friend's hilarious incident that afternoon without you because you had brushed him off. Because you decided not to be there.
Maybe, effort isn't the price you pay for nice things. Maybe effort is the nice thing.
You slid your phone into your pocket as you abandoned your office. Your heels clacked down the hallway in tandem with the A/C above you, the buzzing loud as day with no one else in the building running around to drown it out.
Your hands grew antsy and your feet ached in your shoes through the elevator ride down to the Style and Design Department. When the white, digital number finally flashed '1', you basically pushed open the doors yourself and beelined for where Liz had kept herself, Sunoo, Sumin and Heeseung cooped up for the past week.
Liz's office (which was more a little studio than anything else) was illuminated with ivory Christmas light along the walls, rather than harsh overhead lighting. You reached for the switch, hoping she hadn't unplugged them before leaving because you truly had no idea where the regular light switch was.
They flicked on with fervour, inviting you in and practically screaming at you to never leave.
The place was drowning in rolls of black fabric and cutout pattern paper. Little boxes of safety pins and sewing needles sat all about, accompanied by a measuring tape strung over each chair.
You walked over to the platform in the corner of the room, surrounded by mirrors as if it was a bridal gown boutique. Beginnings of shirts, trousers and jackets were thrown on the surrounding floor.
Progress, more than you thought, too.
As you stepped off the platform, a little Polaroid wedged into the frame of a mirror poked out at you. You approached the photo, invading its personal space until you could see every detail clearly.
It was fresh, taken in the clothes she saw Sunoo and Liz wearing the day before. Beside the two of them, who were smiling and making hearts on each other's cheeks, were Heeseung and Sumin, copying the same pose.
His grin crinkled his eyes and the faint dimple on his cheek rendered him almost unidentifiable. His hair was black—you knew Liz and Sunoo had dyed it for him, but you had yet to see it yourself—and around his neck was a necklace you swore you saw in Liz's lookbook.
You smiled at the sight. Progress. If only you had been there to see it.
You tried to turn away, but your soles rooted themselves to the floor and you scanned the Polaroid selfie until the image was branded on your brain. You bored your eyes into the grainy photo until the taste of salt on your lips broke your attention.
You lifted your fingers to your lips, feeling the dampness decorating them that led back to your tear-ducts. You clawed at your cheeks, wiping away the senseless tears as you sniffled, pushing back the emotion that poked and prodded through your throat.
"Want this?"
You whipped around at the question, suddenly hyperaware of your presence in Liz's studio. No one else should have been in the building by then, so your heartbeat picked up tenfold as you stumbled back into the mirror.
Your hand had flown to your chest, but as you took in the figure in front of you, it slowly cascaded down your front until it fell to your side again.
"Fuck, Heeseung, don't do that," You breathed out, swallowing your terror and pushing off of the wall you'd fallen into.
"Sorry, I should've said something when I walked in." He winced. He prodded his hand out further towards you. "Take it."
You glanced down. A tissue was held between his fingers. Heat climbed up your neck knowing Heeseung had walked in on you crying, but you supposed the tears staining your face were a dead giveaway anyways.
You snatched the tissue, mumbling some sort of 'thank you' before dabbing at your eyes and nose.
Heeseung rocked back and forth on his heels in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he glanced around awkwardly.
As much as you wanted to run away, you recognized this for what is could be: an opportunity. You had blown off Heeseung before, now was your chance to make it up.
"So," You began, crumpling up the tissue and tossing it in the small trash can a couple of feet away, "Why are you here?"
"I forgot my headphones," He simply answered. "What about you?"
"Had some work to get done."
"Oh."
Heeseung ran his hand through his hair, occupying his attention around the room again. As his bangs moved from his forehead, you caught sight of the almost-healed cut you gave him in his kitchen earlier that month.
You weren't so gauche then, so you didn't have to be now.
"The new hair looks nice," You said, cursing yourself when your attempt at not being awkward died at your feet. "Liz and Sunoo did a good job."
"Yeah, they did," He laughed, running a hand through it again. "Did you come down here because of what I messaged you earlier?"
Your lips moved to say no—telling him that his words had no effect on where you currently stood would have protected your dignity. But when you saw his eyes, wide and full of nothing but hope and innocence, above his faint smile, you were suddenly okay with parting ways with your conceived pride.
"I did." A toothy grin overtook his face, casted in warm shadows from Liz's lights. You couldn't help the way your lips stretched further in response.
"C'mere, then, I wanna show you something." He stepped forward, grabbing your forearm to excitedly guide you to the pink futon at the other side of the room. His hands were hidden within the sleeves of his sweater, and you didn't fail to take note of the skip in his step. He was like a kid at the zoo, if you ignored him being nearly 23 and in the confines of a dimly lit studio.
He pulled you down beside him on the excuse-of-a-couch before rushing to grab something on the ground beside him. When he popped back up over the arm of the futon, he held a box in his hand.
"What is this?" You half-laughed, your hand unconsciously moving to pick at the white string holding it shut.
"The progress I wanted to show you," Heeseung answered, smiling down at you like his whole life was in that box. He pulled the string undone, taking off the lid and sliding it over to your lap.
It was full of half-finished jewelry, Polaroids of Heeseung in different hairstyles and makeup looks, and at the very bottom, one folded up shirt.
"This is the necklace I was wearing in that photo," Heeseung told you as he pulled out a chain. He let it pool in his palm as you stared at it. "Liz didn't like how the charms looked so she took them off. Sunoo has some ideas for imagery and motifs in the concept film, so him and Liz are gonna make some new, handmade charms to go with it."
Your gaze shifted from the deconstructed necklace to Heeseung, whose admiring smile told you all you needed to know about the man beside you. You had done a good job picking your model, and all of the gushing your friends did over him was well-deserved.
He dropped the chain back into the box before reaching for a stack of Polaroids. You could only imagine how much of your yearly budget was going towards them, film for those cameras is so fucking expensive—
"I'd never worn eyeliner before." You snapped your attention back to Heeseung. The pile of photos was on his thigh and a singular one rested between his thumb and forefinger.
You peered over to look at the photo. It was Heeseung, still with black hair dye stains on his forehead, with his eyes darkened and narrowed with some subtle, dark eyeliner and pinkish eyeshadow.
He turned to you, bumping your shoulder a bit when he noticed you examining the photo too. "Did I pull it off?"
You nod earnestly despite his light-hearted, joking tone. His mocking smile grew flustered at the response, ducking his head and stuffing the picture at the bottom of the stack.
"Hey! I wasn't done admiring Liz's work!" You argued, shoving his shoulder.
"Come in on Monday and admire it in person."
"Maybe I will."
"Really?"
You nodded again, reaching for the next photo on his leg. This one had his hair back with a few strands intentionally separated to hang in front of his face. Typically, Heeseung wore his hair down and fluffy, so the change made him look like a completely different person. More confident, older, a little less like a teddy bear wearing the skin of a man—and all he was doing was showing some forehead.
"You should wear your hair like this in the shoot," You recommended. Heeseung glanced over from the photo he was looking at to see what you were talking about.
"Do I look better with it up?" He queried, a curious furrow to his brows.
You shook your head. "You'll look good no matter how you do your hair. But you look more intimidating like this."
"Noted." He sent you a curt nod before his head jerked a little and slowly turned back around to you. "Are you saying you think I'm good looking?"
You couldn't help the laugh that reverberated past your chest. Still fighting through giggles, you said, "I wouldn't have hired you if you weren't, dumbass."
He shrugged. "I just like to hear people say it sometimes."
"You're a freak."
"So I've been told." After another push of his shoulder, Heeseung leaned back against the couch. "Can I ask you something?"
You looked back at him, the couch too small to turn your body to face him. "Sure?"
"Why did you disappear once the project started?" He asked. The smile that had not once fell from your lips suddenly cracked at the seams, falling ever so slightly until the corners of your mouth were parallel again. Heeseung must have noticed because within a second his hand flew to your shoulder. "You don't have to say, an-and I'm not mad, if you're worried about that. But...I don't know. I guess I assumed you would be around for more than just signing my contract."
"I really shouldn't be," You started. You weren't sure why you were giving him an explanation you couldn't even provide yourself with. "I'm the CEO, it was odd for me to even be involved with this project so heavily back when Shin Yuna was our ambassador. But it was my passion project, so when she pulled out and we had to redo everything—and I mean everything—, it didn't belong to me anymore. When Yuna left, so did all of my ideas. We started fresh, and I didn't have a reason to be around anymore. Liz has the designs under control, Sunoo, Beomgyu and Yujin can handle marketing and promo, Yeonjun can deal with legal proceedings for royalties and whatnot, Jay has the budget covered, and if something goes wrong, Ryujin deals with it. My job was to fix my fuck up. I did that."
Heeseung was silent for a moment, glancing down at the floor as your words permeated the air. When they finally diffused around him, he tilted his head.
"Do you want to still be involved?"
"What?"
"I mean..." He paused, shifting so that one of his legs was tucked onto the couch. "The way you were before? You say you're not around as much because you don't have a reason to be, so let me give you one. I want you around. You picked me to be the model for your campaign. Show me why."
You sat there for moment, your chest tightening with every breath, filled with the need to speak, yet your tongue failed you.
"Monday?" Heeseung broke the silence. "I'll see you down here, right?"
You smiled. "I'll be here."
"I hope you know I'm holding you to that, Ms. L/N."
"I know you will," You said. "And please, you can just call me Y/N."
masterlist | prev | next
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
SEVENTEEN. theft, battery and murder (of an americano)
masterlist | prev | next
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
SIXTEEN. drop the formalities, you don't even work here
masterlist | prev | next
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
SIXTEEN. drop the formalities, you don't even work here
masterlist | prev | next
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
Heeseung didn't have a personal style, but he did have a Xanax prescription.
So, while Sunghoon tore apart Heeseung's closet in search of anything he deemed remotely appropriate for arguably the most important meeting of his friend's life thus far, Heeseung popped a pill in the hopes of stilling his shaking leg and uneven breaths.
"So, what company did this end up being for?" Sunghoon asked, throwing another beanie on the floor. "I need to know who to cater this fit to."
Heeseung tossed his phone to the side and fell back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a hefty exhale. It was only noon and he was already exhausted. "Le Désir."
The sounds of metal and fabric scraping against the wood of his closet halted immediately, followed by a clap that reverberated throughout the room as Sunghoon's hand fell against his thighs.
"Are you fucking with me right now?"
Heeseung lulled his head to the side to look at Sunghoon. "No? Why? Is Le Désir's stock plummeting right now or something?"
"Dude, the biggest designer brand in the country wants to work with you? There's no way."
Heeseung sat up, suddenly defensive despite the similar doubts sitting just behind his own eyes. "I'm serious! She said she worked for Le Désir!"
Sunghoon laughed, the throaty sound bubbling out of him with a sour mix of humour and mockery. "Yeah, sorry, you're totally getting scammed. I'm gonna go get a chilli cheese dog."
Sunghoon stepped over the piles of clothes he'd discarded and reached for the door, prompting Heeseung to spring off his bed and lunge for it first, blocking the only way out of his room as he stood in front of it like a starfish.
"Bro, let me go, that vendor down the street leaves at one," Sunghoon whined, trying to pry Heeseung off of the door. He wedged his hands between Heeseung's arms and around his abdomen in an attempt to tickle him away from the exit.
"That vendor doesn't even use real meat," Heeseung loudly retorted, squirming away but still firmly holding his ground against the door. "Please, I can't go there looking like this, man."
Sunghoon sighed, giving up on trying to get out when his tickling tactic failed. "Fine. But we're searching up that company's staff and if the woman isn't on there, you owe me seven chilli cheese dogs."
1:48
Twelve minutes before the future or Le Désir was set to change forever. Twelve minutes before the fate of your company fell from the grip of a stranger and back into your unsteady hands. Twelve minutes before Lee Heeseung decided if decades of your grandfather's soul compacted together with pezzottaite and pearls was worth holding together a little longer.
1:49
You had reserved the smallest meeting room possible—from the little knowledge you had about Heeseung, you had assumed the vast, echoing conference spaces would steal his normality and your relatability would rise to the ceiling, making room for the expansiveness of your request to settle in front of his vision instead. In a forlorn attempt at appealing to familiarity, you had opted for the room most similar to the (lack of) spaciousness you had seen while in his apartment.
1:50
Yet, the door still seemed so far away from where you sat at the head of the table. You couldn't decipher the words of the plated-label next to the entrance, and where Yujin sat, swiveling around in the chair at the far end across from you, she looked no larger than the vase of flowers in the middle of the table. Perhaps you should have just had the meeting in your office.
1:51
A complementary Le Désir pen laid against your lip, your teeth mindlessly nipping away at the tip of it until pieces of plastic berated your tongue. You quickly pulled the pen away from your mouth, eyebrows furrowed and eyes pointed in disgust as you blew raspberries into the air in a semi-futile attempt to rid your tongue of the speckles littering your mouth. Yeonjun pulled the pen out of your grasp as he walked by, hitting you over the head with it before tossing it in the trash in the corner to your left.
1:52
Typically, meetings of this nature were manned by Yujin, Yeonjun, and Sumin. As CEO, it simply wasn't your job to attend to every task, you simply ran the business. But seeing as Heeseung was cast by you, it was only cordial that you offered your presence—at least, that's what Jay had told you to do when you had asked him to come with you to get some Yerba Mate twenty minutes ago.
1:53
As Yeonjun took a seat on your right, the door cracked open, a smiley Sumin peaking our from behind the acacia. A clipboard was held loosely between her arm and her chest.
"Is there anything else you need before I step down to the lobby to wait for Mr. Lee?" Sumin queried.
You shook your head. "I think we're all good here—"
"Adderall."
"Shut up, Yeonjun," Yujin scolded as she threw a crumpled up paper at him. He caught it, but the intention was not lost on him as he glared back at her.
1:54
Each time your watch ticked, a new minute whistling its way into the air, your teeth would sink into the expanse of your lip. The skin against your teeth was stinging and raw by now, its shrills for mercy falling on deaf ears.
You contemplated reaching into your bag to reapply your gloss, but you didn't have it in you to move your hands, scared that they would be shaking enough for Yeonjun to notice.
1:55
The last time you had had this meeting was about ten months ago. You held your head a little higher back then, the heavy pearls around your neck not pulling you down in the slightest.
Back then, with your blouse buttoned up all the way and your lips full of colour, your hands wouldn't dare shake—Especially not with Shin Yuna sitting at the end of your marble table.
Her hands were delicate against the paper as she flipped through the proposal, and you could already imagine the drapes of pink quartz curtains decorating her shoulders, encompassing her in everything "Le Désir".
1:56
Shin Yuna was supposed to be your muse.
Melpomene was not the muse you meant, but it's the one you got.
1:57
"Sumin just texted me, she's on her way up."
You barely heard Yujin as she spoke. Your head spun, the base of you neck tightening in response.
You shouldn't be nervous.
You shouldn't, yet you are.
1:58
Out of your peripheral, you could see Yeonjun buttoning his blazer and adjusting his tie. A manila folder materialized in front of him, and suddenly the young man you knew was gone and your lawyer had swooped into his place.
Yujin stood near the door now, peering through the blinds so she could greet Sumin and Heeseung when they arrived. At least, that's what you assumed, you never truly knew what she was thinking.
1:59
A squeal sounded from Yujin before she was slipping through the door, keeping it open just a crack with her heel.
Muffled voices and assumed pleasantries seeped through the small gap, but any coherent words died before they reached you.
Yeonjun reached over, placing a comforting hand over yours that sat entwined on top of the table.
2:00
As your watch ticked a little louder than before, signally the next hour had arrived, the door peeled open.
It was undoubtedly Lee Heeseung who stepped through, but you had a hard time focusing your eyes on the man as Yujin offered him a seat, merely gestering to the lengthy table with two hands. While Yuna had always sat at the far end, at the head opposite you, Heeseung strolled much father up. He took the seat on your left side, not bothering to round the table to the side facing the door. With a singular seat between you, you couldn't help but admire his confidence, or lack thereof. If he sat so close because he didn't see you as very powerful, or because this environment was foreign to him, you couldn't decipher.
Maybe you were just bad at reading people.
He looked...different.
Not bad, just unfamiliar.
His hair was messier than it was when you had last seen him, hanging in front of his eyes and fluffing out at the sides. Though, the waves seemed intentional and you quickly realized someone had styled them—probably not himself, seeing as the back of his head hadn't been neglected.
The black blazer on top of a pinstriped, white button down went a little too well with his dark chinos, and suddenly, all of the pearls in your mind that were owned and adorned by Yuna slipped from her neck and rolled to the feet of Lee Heeseung.
Perhaps a muse wasn't what you needed after all.
The corner of your lips curved up as you mentally wrote a thank-you letter to Shin Yuna's company.
"Lee Heeseung," You spoke, your unused voice thankfully not betraying you, "Welcome. I'm glad you decided to work with us—I promise I'll make it worth your while."
Heeseung smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks for the opportunity, Ms. L/N."
Yujin had taken a seat next to Heeseung, filling in the one spot at the end of the table before your own seat. From a bag down by her feet, she pulled out a lookbook—the one Liz had made that had been collecting dust on your desk.
"This campaign has been in the works for a while now," Yujin started, "As you may know, Le Désir is big on elegance and delicacy. But, we want to change that up a bit. Take a look through here—" She pushed the lookbook in front of Heeseung, opening the first page for him. "—and let us know what you think."
Heeseung's eyes scanned over every inch of the page, not missing a single colour swatch or fabric sample.
As he flipped through it, Yeonjun cleared his throat. "If you have any questions—"
"This is good," Heeseung interrupted, though it didn't seem Yeonjun minded. If anything he seemed grateful, as if he was worried Heeseung was backtracking. "To be honest, I don't know much about fashion or...any of this. Whatever you guys want, I'll do."
"Are you sure?" Yujin asked. "You're going to be the face of this, Mr. Lee. This is your image, your reputation."
He shrugged. "It's also yours, you wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that."
You leaned back in your seat, Heeseung's tired eyes settling peacefully on Yujin as she nodded.
"Okay then," You chimed in, "I want you here Monday to Friday. Hours will fluctuate, but you'll get a day rate of 400 dollars regardless of how long you're here for. I'm managing this campaign, so you'll hear a lot from me, along with our head designer, Liz, for the time being. Any questions?"
Typically, you would be a little more formal, but you knew your audience.
Heeseung's eyes were wide, the same deer-like features you saw all those days ago coming back into view. "400 dollars a day?"
"Yes." You nodded. "If that's not to your standards, we can arrange something else—"
"Where do I sign?"
masterlist | prev | next
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
this will be a bit of a long post but i ask that you please please read the full thing if you want to know more about Sudan- i feel like not enough people ACTUALLY know what's going on in Sudan. a lot of people have a vague idea that a 'war' and genocide is going on, but it's important to know the specifics as well.
there is extremely little coverage of Sudan from non-Sudanese sources, and even those that DO cover it often paint it as a war between two different generals for power over a country- and to a certain extent, without context, that IS what's happening. for those unaware, the two 'warring factions' in Sudan are the official Sudanese military- the SAF (Sudanese Armed Forces) and the RSF (Rapid Support Forces).
in April 2019, during the Sudanese Revolution, Islamist dictator Omar al-Bashir was deposed by the SAF in response to a mass wave of revolutionary organizing, protests, and sit-ins. Immediately after, the TMC (Transitionary Military Council) was established, with SAF general inspector Abdel Fattah al-Burhan being appointed as the chairman. for a brief time, protestors engaged in negotiations with Burhan, and many believed that he was being ernest in his promises of a true civilian democratic government- but it soon became clear to protestors that he was not actually taking their demands seriously, so demonstrations once again intensified. on June 3, 2019, it was under Burhan's command that the Khartoum Massacre was committed, killing 118 protestors while they were participating in a sit-in at the military headquarters in Khartoum.
as the next few months went by, agreements came about to dissolve the TMC and form a Transitional Sovereignty Council based on a draft of a constitutional declaration. it was supposed to be that a military official would be the chairman for 21 months, then transitioning to a civilian chairman for the next 18 months- but Burhan staged a coup in October of 2021, and dissolved the council and effectively turned the Sudanese government back into a military junta, which was the cause of further protesting.
i want to emphasize the crimes and horrors of the SAF because they are often forgotten in these discussions due to the absolute atrocities committed by the RSF. there is no good guy here- both the SAF and the RSF are vying for dictatorial power. so let's talk about the RSF.
headed by genocidal war criminal Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known more widely as "Hemedti", the RSF formed around 2014 due to reorginization of the Janjaweed militias- which were the militias that formed across the Darfuri regions of southwestern Sudan to suppress demonstrations against Bashir's oppressive and racist regime which carried out the first genocide of Massalit and other ethnically non-Arab peoples across Darfur in the early 2000s. so to be succinct- the RSF has direct roots in dictatorial suppression of Sudanis protesting against ethnic cleansing, genocide, and oppression.
for around a decade, the RSF and SAF were different factions of the Sudanese military- both have their roots and a pattern of supporting dictatorial violence and anti-Black genocide. and, on April 15, 2023, these two dictatorial Arab-colonialist powers began fighting out of the blue. fighting has been most intense around Khartoum, the central state and capital city of Sudan, where now an estimated 35% of its residents have been forced to flee, with the rest trapped in the middle of an active war zone.
the RSF has been actively continuing the genocide of non-Arab Darfuri Sudanis that its predecessor the Janjaweed committed 20 years prior. they have been consistently launching attacks against Massalit villages in Darfur and El Geneina. Recently, they have completely ethnically cleansed several Massalit villages, killing hundreds in each one of them. in addition, they are committing so many other war crimes, like sexual violence, blocking access to humanitarian aid, occupying civilian homes and kicking the residents out, along with blatant ethnic cleansing campaigns, mass murder, and targeting of civilians.
but don't think that this is a 'civil war' as many are calling it. a civil war is an internal dispute, but this is far from that. both the SAF and the RSF are supported by external powers, namely the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Russia, who all provide funding to these groups IN EXCHANGE FOR SUDANESE RESOURCES LIKE GOLD AND OIL. this is, ultimately, not just some random war between two different military groups- it is a war funded by and for foreign colonial powers who have a vested interest in colonizing Sudan for its resources. as an example- the UAE's- and especially Dubai's- infamous gold and jewelry industry, is only made possible by the fact that the UAE illegally smuggles 80% of Sudan's gold- they fund this by sending weapons AND SOLDIERS to the RSF. Several of the gold mines in Sudan are owned and operated by the Russian government.
all of this, both the 'internal' AND the external, colonial aspects of this war and genocide, has led to the world's current WORST humanitarian crisis. not only do LOW estimates place the total murdered in the past year at 150,000, but out of Sudan's population of nearly 47 million, over half (25 million) are in severe need of humanitarian aid, and of those 25 million, over half are children. fighting between the RSF and SAF has lead to severe blockage of aid, and the UN's initial proposed budget of $1.5 billion in April of 2023 has not only not increased to accommodate the severe worsening of the crisis, but ALSO has not even been funded 20%.
2.5 MILLION PEOPLE ARE EXPECTED TO STARVE TO DEATH IN SUDAN BY THIS FUCKING SEPTEMBER. THAT IS LESS THAN 2 MONTHS AWAY.
additionally, due to both western colonization and the Sudanese governments' deliberate cutting of internet access across the entirety of Sudan, there is a huge lack of the proper infrastructure for generating awareness and spreading videos and info from on the ground in Sudan. this means that not only are people unable to effectively crowdfund support to leave, but they are also barred from accessing social media to spread awareness, and they're unable to contact loved ones outside of Sudan most of the time.
also, Sudan is HUGE- in order for displaced people to escape fighting, they usually have to walk, on foot, for hundreds of miles, often across literal deserts, with extremely little access to water. there has also been a surge of internally displaced people dying due to illness and scorpion stings in displacement camps. 70% of Sudan's hospitals have stopped functioning entirely. and even if they DO make it to a neighboring country, most of the options there are just as bad, if not worse- Egypt is extremely anti-Black, and doesn't allow work permits to most Black refugees, meaning they are relegated to being houseless and jobless if they go to Egypt- and westward in Chad, there is also crisis with food and resources, so the government of Chad quite literally can not materially support anymore Sudanese refugees. In South Sudan, there is also conflict, war, and crisis, and in Ethiopia, where the genocide is taking place in Tigray, the government is extremely hostile to Sudanese refugees. there are currently more than 6,000 Sudanese refugees stranded in the forests because of the hostilities they faced while in UNHCR camps.
and everyday that we're not doing something, this genocide, war, and humanitarian crisis is getting worse. doing something starts with being educated. i urge y'all to look more into this, don't just take what i'm saying and roll with it- truly learn and listen to Sudanese activists on this. i highly recommend following these accounts on Instagram:
IF ANYTHING I'VE SAID IS INACCURATE, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
i'd like to spread this post for some education. could you reblog this @decolonize-the-left @incorrectmadrigalfamilyquotes @homoidiotic @heritageposts @el-shab-hussein
(🦒) ── LEE HEESEUNG [희승] ⁞ ㅤㅤ𝓰. fluffㅤㅤ୨୧ㅤㅤ warnings : est. relationship, pet names (babe), skinship, kissing (literally like a very chaiste, singular one.)ㅤ⟡ㅤ!nonidol boyfriend !hee 𝔁 fem !reader ㅤᯓ ꒰ wc : 826 ꒱ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsynopsis .ᐟ in which your boyfriend suprises you with your very own sonny angel !! ── 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ᡣ𐭩
juno's note ─ randomly got the motivation to write this bc I just ordered some new sonny's hehe ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡
you stood in the middle of your living room, face etched with horror as you stared down at your favorite sonny angel--a bright yellow giraffe adorned with stubby horns and brown spots, discarded carelessly on the carpet.
you slowly picked it up, immediately noticing the defects and bite marks that painted the plastic figurine. you couldn't believe it! what was once your most cherished angel in pristine condition was downgraded to a chewed-up trinket.
your eyes landed on the culprit, the dark brown feline sitting carelessly on the edge of the couch, oblivious to your inner turmoil.
"ddongsik!" you scolded, holding up the tiny angel in all its imperfect glory. the cat, however, watched with innocent eyes, blinking a few times before indifferently stretching out it's limbs on the couch.
you let out a soft sigh, padding around the room in disbelief with the sonny in your hands, a lump forming in your throat. anyone else might have shrugged it off, realizing it was just a silly mistake by a curious cat. but you? you had a reason to be upset.
that silly giraffe was the first gift your boyfriend, heeseung, had given you for your anniversary. it was a sweet gesture, the root of your sonny collection as a whole. but now that your first ever baby was ruined, you felt almost hopeless.
heeseung emerged from the bedroom, concern evident on his face as his eyes flicked between you and the cat sitting comfortably on the couch.
"babe? what's wrong?"
you held the sonny angel up for heeseung to see, watching his eyes widen in understanding. he sighed, quickly making his way over to you.
"ddongsik strikes again, huh?" he mumbled, gently taking the sonny from your hands, his eyes searching for yours. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i know how much this meant to you."
you could only nod, watching intently as he inspected it. "it was my favorite, hee. now it's ruined."
you sniffled, biting the corner of your lip to hold back the emotions begging to escape.
heeseung's eyes softened at the crestfallen look on your face. he tipped your chin so you would look at him before pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead.
"hey, don't worry. we'll figure something out."
he reassured, pulling you into a comforting hug, his chin resting on the top of your head.
you let out a soft sigh, surrendering to his care as you rested your head on his chest, inhaling deeply.
"promise?"
"promise."
over the next few days, heeseung seemed unusually busy. he'd vanish for hours, claiming he had errands to run, but always returned with paint smudges on his fingers and a mysterious gleam in his eyes.
when you asked what he was up to, he'd just flash a mischievous smile and tease it was a surprise. curiosity gnawed at you, yet you trusted him enough to let it be, even though the mystery continued to eat you alive.
one evening, upon returning home, you found heeseung sitting at the kitchen table, a wide grin lighting up his face. “close your eyes,” he instructed.
a soft smile graced your lips at his excitement before reluctantly obeying, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
heeseung guided you to a chair, helping you settle in before signalling you to cup your hands. after a moment, you felt something small and delicate placed into your palms, curiosity now fully piqued.
heeseung couldn't help but chuckle softly at the look on your face, gazing at you fondly before clearing his throat. "alright, open them."
you blinked open your eyes, and there in your hands were two customized sonny angels, meticulously painted to resemble you and heeseung. they were adorable, capturing tiny details that mirrored your features and heeseung’s gentle doe eyes.
you gasped softly, overwhelmed with emotion. "heeseung, is this…?"
he nodded eagerly. "i couldn't stand seeing you sad about the old one. so, i decided to create new memories—sonny angels that represent us, together."
tears welled up in your eyes as you examined the figurines, marveling at their intricate details. "it's perfect," you whispered, voice thick with emotion.
heeseung chuckled warmly, cupping your face with his hand and brushing away a tear with his thumb. “anything to see you smile again.”
in that moment, ddongsik strolled in, eyeing the new sonny angels with a curious tilt of his head. you quickly lifted them out of his reach, both you and heeseung laughing at the cat’s determined expression.
“we’ll have to find a safer spot for these,” heeseung chuckled, affectionately rubbing your shoulder.
you nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “definitely.”
later that night, as you placed the new sonny angels on a special high shelf, safely out of ddongsik’s reach, you couldn’t help but admire heeseung’s handiwork once more. it wasn’t just a simple toy; it was a testament to his love and thoughtfulness. and that made it even more precious than the first.
If you want your donations to go the farthest, I recommend donating directly to people in need and local nonprofits. For the humanitarian crisis in the Democratic Republic of Congo, I suggest Goma Actif
Goma Actif is a Congolese nonprofit that has boots on the ground in Goma, DRC, at the Kanyaruchinya displacement camp, providing food to people who have fled the latest offensive by the M23 rebel group.
The Congolese people have expressed frustration that international organizations are slow and fickle when it comes to distributing aid. Goma Actif functions entirely within DRCongo and therefore bypasses international red tape to deliver aid more reliably than external sources.
(EN below)
En République Démocratique du Congo, depuis plus de 600 jours, des rebelles ont pr… Goma Actif needs your support for SOS Congo
SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.
