Model!AU: Minghao
getting closer and missing hao inspired this. heavy content + mentions of violence+ mentions of medicine/mental health + onesided feelings so be forewarned. tldr; modeling is hard. minghao breakdowns. good ending, i promise.Â
it should have been obvious since the beginning of the shoot that there was going to be a problemÂ
but, naively, you had thought nothing of it at allÂ
he’d been on edge all week from a packed schedule
first a trip to italy for fashion week, then a branding meeting in france, a non-stop flight to korea followed to discuss plans for his face to grace the streets of myeongdong, three interviews for three different magazines, and now here - in china - for a campaign that was paying at least triple what they usually would just so they could get himÂ
xu minghao
and him snapping at the designer for picking out the wrong size for the first outfit was to be expected
but then there was the bickering with the photographer, the calling of names of the poor and terrified interns, and then his wrath turned upon props
fake flowers began being flung across the room
his hermes paris loafers scuffed and dirtied from when he’d put his foot through the background screen in angry disapproval of its colorÂ
his hand, clad in rubies and sterling silver, clutching at one of the light bulbs that had powered his background light
clenched perfect teeth, seething broad shoulders
“ill crush this thing and use the shards to cut your neck if you make me look like an idiot - i swear you won’t get away with it”
that’s where you’d realized it had took a turn for the worse
not just because of property damage, or bad character, but because minghao was literally threatening someone
his violent outbursts had become more common as he grew in popularity - but this was the first time he’d said something like that
something that could be filmed, recorded, leaked to the press
and then his career would be over
as his personal assistant, you had to do something
so you pushed forward onto the set
making apologizes to everyone as you grabbed minghao by the sides of his jacket and whispered in the lowest -but calmest - voice you could
“hao, let me get you back to the hotel - ok?”
his eyes, flaming amber settled into yours
you’d always been his friend, even before his modeling career, and out of all the people in the worldÂ
you could smolder any fire that he set ablaze
so rolling his shoulders and straightening himself out
minghao took one last look around the set
the poor photographer, probably thirty years older than him, too scared to meet his gaze
and said - in monotone, emotionless mandarin - that they could do this all again tomorrow
and that they better do it right
he’d marched forward, through the doors to where the rest of his team was waitingÂ
his chauffeur, his bodyguard, his manager, his makeup artist
you stayed behind an extra couple of minutes for damage control
bowing, hanging your head low and apologizing - assuring that you’d pay for the ruined background, the stomped out flowers, but most of all
you promised you’d have minghao back here tomorrow
in a more,,,,,,positive,,,,,,,,mood
after it all, you’d climbed into the black jaguar that waited outside of the building somewhere in downtown beijing
and heard minghao groan
his face illuminated by the screen of his phone
“look at this, they completely twisted what i said in the interview!”
he tilted his phone to show you the news titleÂ
“millennial model and chinese breakout fashion sensation xu minghao says that sometimes he hates his job?!?!”
you see that the publisher is grazia, you make a note to call and get it fixed up
you take the phone from minghao, exit out of the browser and instead open up his messages
“your mom texted while you were on set, you should answer her”
minghao’s long fingers graze yours as he takes the phone back, he reads the message - but you see him close the chat
resting his head against the window he mutters that he cant deal with her right now
“she’s your mo-”
“i know. stop policing me like im some sort of kid, ill get back to her when i do.”
he snaps, not even giving you the decency to turn back your way
you don’t huff or try to pick a fight, instead you just look straight forward past the partitionÂ
onto the road ahead of you and wonderÂ
when did he become such a ,,,,,,,,,,, monster?
the night is sleepless for you, it’s been that way for a long time now
you spend it sending out emails and responses to the millions of business inquiries an hungry brands that want minghao to model for them
you spend it on the phone with the company back in korea, explaining what happened today - getting yelled at for it - and then making sure the money is wired over so you can pay back the photographer like you said
you spend it double, triple, even quadruple checking minghao’s schedule and updating it or fixing itÂ
so that not a moment is to spare
even though it hurts knowing how much all of this is taking a toll on the boy you were once best friends with
for a while you drift into memories
minghao, not as tall and slender as he is now but still a head above you, in his school uniform in your backyard
your favorite song at the moment on blast from your phone
how he’d take his shoes off and dance - try to get you up and to copy him
but you could never match his natural talent, the way his long limbs moved like water
you remember the days where minghao laughed, loud and shamelessÂ
the days where he’d flip through magazines and point out big names and say, with confidence, that he’d one day get to represent them
wink your way and ask “isn’t my face the best in china?”
you’d crinkle your nose, but the reality was his face was the best in china - maybe even the world
and now that he’d earned that title from everyone else
it was like that cheerful, playful boy had been buried deep under layers of expensive fabrics, makeup, and diamonds
and all you had now was the shell of your best friend
a body and a face that resembled xu minghao - but had lost all of the light within it
you had to snap out of those thoughts, noting that it was nearing 4am and even if it was an hour of sleep - it was an hour you’d need to deal with what was to come
minghao was late, but you had planned ahead and told the photographer to take him time setting up
he showed up in maison margiela pinstripe trousers, a gucci medusa sweater, burberry hightops, the interlocking necklace sent from versace as a gift and vintage dior homme shades that blocked the lazer like intensity of his already annoyed gazeÂ
all together he cost roughly the same amount as most people made in half a year - working five days a week fulltimeÂ
and he had worn it as a “sorry im late, i didnt want to come” kind of laidback outfit
you bit back the urge to ask him what he’d been up to
the faint smell of floral cologne and refusal to look directly into the light told you all you had to knowÂ
minghao had developed a kind of ritual - you’d call it that to avoid slandering him
when things didn’t go right, he’d find someone pretty. take two or more of those depression meds mixed in with something a little more fun. and in the morningÂ
he’d cover it up with expensive accessories and for some reason let you - and only you - be the one to fix him up
letting the perfume stuck on his skin fill the space between you two as you’d reach up and move strands of hair from his eyes or make sure any blemish - that were hardly ever there - was hidden
you didn’t understand why he did that to you
did he enjoy seeing the pain in your eyes? the feeling of betrayal radiating between your bodies?
it had been an unspoken oath between you two as teenagers, that you really and deeply cared for each other
the word “love” was never uttered - but it was obvious
how you looked at one and other, how minghao had a sharp tongue but kept it under locks around you
how you looked up at him with adoration that could only be rivaled by old, married couples
you had been called the soulmates of your hometown
and now you were stuck in a dizzy cloud of his one night stands stench,,,,,,and worst of all,,,,it was on purpose
“is- is he ready?”
the photographer asks, to which minghao scoffs
“im right here, just ask me if im ready. don’t ask my assistant.”
you swallow as the photographer gives a small nod to his team
the designer comes to get minghao ready - but minghao ignores him and sways his way over to you
you try not the take any deep breathes, the undertones of rose dance around him in blaring waves
“can you make sure i look alright?”
he demands, stating it like a question just for the audience. you know you aren’t under the pretense to say no
“of course”
your answer is flat - but you do follow through, taking a step closer and searching his face for an imperfection
he’s statuesque - the features on his face look like they’ve been hand molded to be perfect
when you reach to take off his glasses, you’re met with eyes that look like onyx now that they’re makeup free and up close
the shape is unworldly, long and accented against the backdrop of his clear, clean skin
you trace from the eyes to the lips: perfect, perfect, perfectÂ
you waver because you could keep looking, let your eyes travel downwards over his godly proportionsÂ
elegantly long neck, strong collarbones, incomparable body with arms and legs you’ve imagined being tangled up in
so you don’tÂ
you restrain yourself and tell minghaoÂ
“you look fine.”
you wait for the complimentary smirk, the click of his tongue, but instead he just continues to stare
till you feel like he’s reduced you to dust in his eyesÂ
and turns to make way toward set
the shoot goes much smoother, there is no destruction and no yellingÂ
and everyone signs an agreement that prohibits them from leaking any of the events that transpiredÂ
minghao finally changes from the last outfit, looks uninterested in all the praise thrown his way
and snaps his fingers toward his bodyguard who steps into line beside him and sternly explains that the shoot is over - no autographs or photos can be taken now
you don’t ride in minghao’s jaguar back to the hotel
you need to pick up some of the orders minghao has placed with stores around town
and you are grateful for the time spent apart
because every now and then you feel that spiraling feeling haunt over you
the unrequited devotion you’d developed for minghao when you before young
and the sting of his lowly treatment
sure, you were still the sole person to calm him down, to keep him from lashing out in public, from almost attacking anything or anyone that as much as made him twitch in annoyance
but he wasnt an angel to you eitherÂ
you were convinced he knew how you felt- how you used to feel
and making you stand in front of him like a fool after he’d spent the night frolicking from one pair of lips to the other was embarrassingÂ
his respect for you had turned to obligation, talking to you sometimes like he was doing you favor bringing you alongÂ
when in reality this job was a nightmare on your body and mental state just as much as it was for him
you were no model, your face wasnt on magazines, and you didnt have fans falling at your feet everywhere you wentÂ
but your body ached from sleepless nights and constant travelÂ
your head spun from trying to remember dates, dealing with huge design teams, rude press, problems with the company, and of course from having to live day to day in minghao’s shadow
you didnt want his fame, you saw what it did to him
but you did want your friendÂ
when he’d made you his personal assistant after his debut, he didnt even dare to call you an “assistant”
he introduced you with your name - told designers and photographers and fans that you were the one always there to keep him sane
that he would be nothing without you
and now,,,, he was treating you - and everyone else - like they were nothing
and you just didnt understand why
how was this the boy who’d always been concerned about you in the winter when you went out without a scarf
how was this the boy who’d once told a fellow friend of yours that in the future - you were were going to get married and make the world a better place together
you throwing a half eaten chunk of bread at him, redfaced and going “why would i marry you - xu minghao?”
and he’d chuckled and said “who else are you going to marry? everyone knows we’re each others destiny!”
had all of those moments been a lie - sometimes you were scared you made them up in your head
but you had photos and video and years of experience to know, that at one point, minghao was different
grateful for the mediocre jobs he got, grateful for his family, grateful for you
you had been there when he was teaching himself to pose in the mirrorÂ
when he was begging brands to give him a second chance, to even just consider his portfolio
you had been there when that portfolio was three cheap headshots that you and him had pooled your money together for
you were always there ,,,,,,,, and you didnt know if you could handle that anymoreÂ
when you returned to the hotel, dragging what had to be eight different bags out of the elevator and into minghao’s private suite
you called out to let him now you’d arrived
for a second, there was no response
and you vaguely assumed he’d fallen asleep or that he’d stepped out to speak to the manager or something
but then you listenedÂ
and heard the water running in the bathtub
your mind snapped into action and you rushed inside
you’d seen minghao practically naked for covershoots before - so you weren’t at all shy of walking in on something
you were more terrified of what could have been going on
and minghao was inside
the water was overflowing in the tub and he was standing in fornt of the large scale mirror
eyes wide, pills in the sink, scissors in his hands
“hao - wh-what are you doing?”
you panic, trying to make a plan
should i turn off the water first? should i get the scissors? should i call for backup?
but minghao just stares - as if past his reflection, into something deeper in the mirror
“you’ve abandoned me.”
you blink
“w-what are you talking about hao, im right here-”
“NO”
he grabs a fistful of his hair and clutches it so hard his knuckles pale
his eyes winded, ringed with an unfamiliar agony to them
“no, you’re not. you’re not here. you’re not here. you’re always gone when i need you. you - you -”
he searches for words, but doesn’t find them
instead he brings up the scissors and you ready yourself to jump on him, to grab his torso and hold him back with all your strength
but he’s fast
and the hair he’s clutched, in one clean snip - he cuts it off
the strands fall into the sink and the water from the overflowing bathtub rises to your ankles
“we entered this world together. you used to think of only me. you had eyes only for me. i was like,,,,,like david, like apollo, like the archangel michael and now you just look at me and you see,,,,,,fine?”
his voice cracks and you recall the conversation this morning
where he’d made you evaluate him before the shoot
how you’d just thought he wanted you to suffer, knowing what he did last night
“hao, you know - you know better than anyone that i will only ever have eyes for you. im so in love with you that i let you berate me, torture me, make me a fool - how could you think i would ever,,,,,,ever,,,,,,leave your side?”
the emotions in you shake and pour out like the water that is getting higher and higher in the bathroom
“put the scissors down, you’ll ruin your ha-”
you start and minghao throws his head back
“i dont care about my hair. i dont care about my face. i dont care about my body. because no one - not even you - cares about ME. WHO I AM! LOOK AT THIS STUPID, EMPTY THING IVE BECOME!”
he spins himself around to face you, bringing the scissors up and cutting wherever he can
until you stop him, the clumps of hair falling into the water, sticking to your clothes and the towel that hangs low around his hips
“hao, why are you doing this,,,,what is happening,,,,please tell me why you’re in pain,,,”
he breathes heavily, seething with something - not anger, not fear, but some kind of inbetween
“you think i dont know that i hurt people? that ive become a fucking asshole? i cant stop it!”
he presses a hand flat against his chest
“i cant stop it because it protects me. if im mean and harsh, no one will take advantage. no one will take what ive earned -”
“but why do you take it out on your team? on the manager or the bodyguard? why do you take it out on me?
he shakes, eyes wavering to the door behind you, to the water at your feet, to the spot on your face that he’s focused on instead of your eyes
“because you ,,,,,, you dont love me how you used to. you love me for my price - for my fame. you dont love hao, you love model xu minghao and im not -”
he sinks suddenly, dropping first to his knees and then leaning forward
you follow and catch him so his head lands against your shoulder
the water soaks through your clothes and the steam from the shower is floating around you two like a storm cloud
you hold him tight, and pull him closer, flush to your own body
and minghao’s arms come to embrace you back, to cling to the fabric of your shirt as he speaks into your neck
“i can see that you dont look at me with the same eyes - your eyes used to glow like stars, they used to be warm. and now,,,,they just see past me-”
he doesnt cry, but his voice fluctuates like he’s in constant waves of pain
“hao, im afraid. im afraid of what you’ve become. you sleep around with anyone, then rub it in my face. you yell and threaten and cause destruction - how could i continue to love you,,,”
you say, but your hand travels up into his hair, combing it down - letting it soothingly run over the parts where it’s now sticking out, jaggedÂ
“i never sleep with them.”
you take a sharp inhale and your fingers stopÂ
“wh-what?”
“i never sleep with them. ive never even gone beyond kissing. there are intimacies that im going to save for you, even if you never wish to ,,,,, see me the same way”
the sentiment and gentleness of his voice is a sound you havent heard for so long
that you almost forget that this is how he really sounds, how he sounded when you were young
both on the verge of your careers - both so close to being together that you could taste it on your lips
but never having the courage to move it forward
had he been harboring the same avid feelings for you too?
there’s a moment of silence until minghao’s pulls back
the water is up to your waists now that you’re on the floor - you’re surprised it hasnt leaked and that someone from the hotel hasnt come running inÂ
but he looks at you, lips trembling
“do you believe me?”
“hao”
you reach and touch his face, he leans into it - to the warmth and familiarityÂ
to the loyatly and the love
“hao, i love you. i love you so much that im sure someone might call it an addiction.”
he finally lets a smile pull up at his lips
“but this has to stop. you can’t wallow in your anguish and take it out on everyone else. something inside you is hurting, maybe im the cause - or the job is the cause. whatever it is, you - we need to stop it. because i cant watch the man i love turn into the man i loathe.”
minghao reaches up, puts his large hand over yours and leans forwardÂ
his lips hesitate just a centimeter from yours
“may i?”
he asks, drawn out and slightly foggy in the tiny little bathroom
“do anything you want”
your voice whispers backÂ
and in a kiss that is full of such intense compulsion, years of harbored and hidden feelings, you fall overÂ
with minghao’s body ontop of yours, your faces still connected in passion submerged under the overflowing water
till the door is kicked open and a horrified maid asks if you two are out of your damn minds
you spend the night with minghao, the emails and your phone abandoned in your room
as you lay beside him and watch the mask he’s had on slowly fall away
as he tells you how hard it’s been
how the medication isn’t working
how he’s begun to hate himself for this fake attitude
you caress his cheek, bring him close, tell him that if he needs a break he can take one
you’ll personally cancel every interview, shoot, and deal if need be
but minghao asks against your lipsÂ
if you’re sick of it too, the people - the press - the hours - the constant need to be moving and making money
you say you are
but that it was worth it, to be beside him. even at his worse.
in the morning light of the next day you examine the damage done to his hair, comb it down and let him slip on a cap to hide any split ends
and when you emerge
to an angry, confused manager who wants to know what is going on
minghao laces his hand with yours
“tell everyone that they have to wait. i have lost time to makeup with the person i love.”
you flush at the romantic words, but also remind the manager that the schedule has to be cleared or that the company will get angry
he asks you to do it - you’re the personal assistant
but minghao holds you close
“not anymore. i quit”
you announce and the manager nearly falls over
“so if im not an assistant, what should i do now?”
minghao kisses your temple
“just be mine. we’ll figure it out together. and plus, i kind of have a plan. ive had since i was a kid.”
you walk outside, people stop in the streets
people whisper and ask, “isn’t that xu minghao?”
but you both ignore them
“oh, whats this plan?”
“do you remember ,,,, my promise to marry you?”Â