“You do modeling too?”
Calmly deflecting with a question, Sihyeon waited for an answer. A low chuckle came through the phone a few times before Seowoo replied that he was just helping someone he knew for today. Yeah, that “someone” is probably the agency CEO—your parents. Sihyeon muttered inwardly as he lowered the phone from his ear.
“I don’t like that kind of thing.”
[I know.]
“Then I’ll hang up.”
He was already standing out unwillingly because of all the fainting incidents—why would he go and do modeling on top of that? Just as Sihyeon said it plainly and was about to press the end call button—
[Didn’t you say you didn’t like being forced to eat?]
“…….”
An irresistible bait had been cast.
Even knowing full well it was bait meant to lure him in, something dangling right in front of him expecting to be taken, it wasn’t easy to refuse. His finger, which had been moving toward the red button, stopped. As if sensing his hesitation, Seowoo added another tempting offer.
[When school starts, I’ll stop forcing you to eat so much.]
“…Do I really have to do it?”
[No.]
“Then why are you going this far?”
Still suspicious, Sihyeon narrowed his eyes and asked back, as if Seowoo were standing right in front of him—like he could see him through the phone.
Up until just before break, hadn’t he lived for the joy of feeding him? Why would he give that up just to make him model? He was curious about his intentions.
A soft hum came through. Tap, tap—he could hear something being lightly tapped, and then a gentle voice flowed into his ear.
[If I don’t do it like this, I don’t think you’ll meet me.]
“What?”
[Since I’m the one who wants this, I should be the one to compromise. So—are you not going to do it?]
At the upward lilt of the question, Sihyeon only stared at his phone. Inside his head, a fierce debate broke out—what he hated more: modeling, or having large amounts of food forced down his throat. The silence stretched as his debate dragged on. Seowoo didn’t rush him, as if willing to wait as long as needed. Only the faint sound of his breathing occasionally came through, letting him know the call hadn’t ended—he was still waiting.
“…What kind of shoot is it?”
Clink—the scale tipped to one side.
[Nothing special. Just a school uniform shoot. They said instead of using a celebrity, they wanted a Strongest High student as the model. They asked if I knew anyone with a good face, and you came to mind.]
“If it’s something big and flashy, I don’t want to do it.”
[It’s not that big. Are you interested now?]
“…Send me the address.”
It felt awkward to say outright that he’d do it, so he circled around it instead. Seowoo laughed again softly, said okay, and ended the call. Or so he thought.
[Come right now.]
“What?”
The call ended immediately after. It was so abrupt that he couldn’t tell if his words had gone through or if it had cut off mid-conversation. Staring blankly at his now-silent phone, a message from Seowoo arrived as if to tease him.
Seowoo sent the studio address, followed by a bright smiling emoticon. A default one.
Yoo Seowoo… using emoticons?
It didn’t suit him at all. The absurdity made Sihyeon let out a hollow laugh, momentarily forgetting his irritation. Honestly, it would suit Lee Hamin more.
Yoo Seowoo [Be here by 3.] 01:07 PM
At the short message, Sihyeon linked it to his navigation app and checked the distance. About an hour by bus. If he washed up and got dressed, the timing would be just right.
After calculating, he stood up. Thud—he placed his phone on the desk without replying.
***
The rattling bus was far from comfortable. With every turn of the wheels, it vibrated and shook. After just 30 minutes, Sihyeon started feeling motion sick. By the time he arrived at the studio, he had already regretted agreeing to this about ten times.
Entering the building with a displeased expression, buzz—his phone vibrated.
Yoo Seowoo [7th floor.] 02:40 PM
As if he knew exactly when he arrived, the message came at perfect timing. Sihyeon stepped into the elevator, pressed the button for the 7th floor, and leaned against the wall.
What kind of shoot was this going to be?
His thoughts spun in circles in his cramped mind.
He was confident he wouldn’t freeze in front of the camera. Or rather, more accurately, even if he did freeze, he was confident he wouldn’t show it. He had a knack for maintaining a poker face. But once the shoot actually began, that would be another story. For example—if they asked him to smile, or act cool, those kinds of requests would put him in a difficult position.
Ding—the elevator stopped at the 7th floor. As the doors slid open with a soft sound, Sihyeon stepped forward, then froze.
“You’re here?”
The voice greeting him in front of the door was even softer than it had been on the phone. It seemed Seowoo had been waiting there ever since he sent the message.
Seeing him after a week, he was still strikingly handsome. He had gotten used to seeing that face every day, but after just a week, it somehow felt unreal again.
Sihyeon silently nodded, and Seowoo smiled faintly before gesturing for him to follow.
Like someone who had just come up from the countryside, Sihyeon looked around the studio. Everything felt unfamiliar, and just as his brows began to knit, someone familiar entered his view.
Standing off to the side of the set, a figure with blue hair stood out unmistakably. His face was so handsome that even the corner he stood in felt like the center. Naturally, Sihyeon’s gaze was drawn to him.
“…He’s here too.”
It was closer to a mutter than a question. He remembered who the face of Strongest High was.
Yeah, if it were me, I would’ve called Baek Geonwoo too. He’s basically our school’s visual ace.
Sihyeon slowly walked toward Geonwoo, who looked like he might topple over at any moment, nodding off. Seeing him for the first time in a while, it seemed like he’d been cooped up at home—his already pale skin looked even paler now.
He looked like a vampire that had just crawled out of a coffin.
Thinking he should wake him, Sihyeon approached—but suddenly, Seowoo grabbed his arm. At Seowoo’s suggestion to greet people first, Sihyeon became aware of the gazes directed at him.
Things he hadn’t noticed while focused on Geonwoo now flooded in through his sharpened senses. The attention felt uncomfortable—bordering on unpleasant.
Reluctantly nodding, he followed Seowoo.
After greeting the people in the studio, they all looked at him with curiosity. It felt like the words “Quadruple” were written in their eyes. One of the staff suddenly screamed and hugged him. Startled, Sihyeon froze for a moment before Seowoo, smiling gently, pulled him away.
“Sihyeon’s a bit shy, noona.”
Speaking softly, Seowoo leaned in and whispered that she was the type to get touchy whenever she saw something pretty.
Well… Kang Sihyeon’s appearance was on the pretty side.
Standing awkwardly, Sihyeon was soon nudged toward Geonwoo. Whispers filled the air—Is that the rumored Quadruple? Suppressing the cringing discomfort rising in his chest, Sihyeon stood beside him.
Seowoo told him they’d call him soon and went back to join the staff. Watching him leave, Sihyeon lifted his gaze toward Geonwoo, who was still dozing.
Maybe because he had come from being surrounded by unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar place, this relatively quiet spot felt almost like a refuge.
Maybe that’s why he’s dozing too.
The ridiculous thought crossed his mind as he watched people begin bustling around. The thought that he shouldn’t have come resurfaced.
I really got baited by food…And not even by being offered food—but by the promise of not being forced to eat.
As he sighed at how things had come to this, tap tap—someone touched his head. The touch was clumsy, yet not rough. Like someone petting a stray cat.
He lifted his head to look beside him.
Blue eyes met blue eyes.
“…When did you wake up?”
At some point, Geonwoo had woken up and was now looking down at him. Standing this close, Sihyeon realized again that Geonwoo was taller than him. Even just waking up from sleep, there wasn’t a single flaw in his appearance. Each of his features was sharply defined—it was like looking at a perfectly crafted piece of art.
“Just now.”
Wow. The artwork talks too.
Watching Geonwoo speak with barely any movement beyond his lips, Sihyeon blinked slowly. As if mimicking him, Geonwoo blinked as well.
The silence between them was broken by Seowoo returning with school uniforms. Without warning, he handed them unfamiliar uniforms and told them to change. Sihyeon found it fascinating that there was even a separate changing room.
“Why are you just standing there? Want me to dress you?”
As he stared blankly at the changing room door, Seowoo came up behind him and teased. Frowning at the playful tone, Sihyeon entered without replying. Bang—the door shut, and just before it closed completely, he heard a light chuckle.
Seriously… he had a knack for putting people in a strange mood.
When he came out after changing, Geonwoo was already there. Seowoo then led them both in front of the camera.
Sihyeon had been worried the shoot might be difficult or demanding, but perhaps because Seowoo had said something in advance, the photographer didn’t ask for much. Even a blank expression was fine—they just wanted simple poses.
Of course, for Sihyeon—who was standing under massive cameras and dazzling lights for the first time—even that was difficult.
He was told several times that he looked awkward. Each time, Sihyeon glanced at Seowoo, wanting to say he’d quit. But Seowoo only smiled back, as if to say—You said you’d do it, so endure it.
“If standing feels too awkward, want to sit on the chair?”
Hearing the fatigue in the photographer’s voice, Sihyeon shot a glance at Geonwoo. Perhaps because simply standing looked like a photoshoot for him, Geonwoo hadn’t been criticized even once. With his mouth shut, his handsome, atmospheric face was doing all the work today.
It felt a little unfair—but looking at his face, Sihyeon couldn’t deny it. Even the photographer seemed too captivated to say anything.
In the end, Sihyeon sat on the round stool handed to him by a staff member. It looked exactly like the infirmary stool—just a different color.
“Hold the stool with your hand and lean forward slightly. Yes, like that.”
Thinking that trying to pose on his own would only make things more awkward, Sihyeon followed the instructions obediently. When told to glance to the side, he moved his eyes. When told to turn his head, he did. When told to mess up his hair, he did it roughly.
Then came the problematic request.
“Now, while messing your hair—try smiling. Brightly, like a boy!”
…What does that even mean?
The photographer, clearly in a better mood as the shoot became smoother, spoke with rising enthusiasm. Sihyeon, who had been following instructions like a robot, froze.
A “bright smile”—that instantly brought Kang Sihyeon’s smile to mind.
But that was something he couldn’t imitate.
At the request he had feared most, his brows furrowed. Mistaking it for him fooling around, the photographer frowned and asked him to be serious. After a few rounds of shooting, Sihyeon had realized—the photographer had quite a fiery temperament. The only reason he hadn’t snapped at him was probably because Sihyeon was a model chosen purely for his face—and because he was a Quadruple class.
“Try smiling again.”
At that, Sihyeon awkwardly lifted the corners of his lips.
Twitch.
His mouth trembled unnaturally.
“Pfft—”
A familiar laugh pierced his ears.
“Kid, that’s not a smile—that’s a smirk!”
The photographer shouted loudly.
In an instant, the studio erupted in laughter. The earlier laughter grew even louder. Frowning, Sihyeon looked past the photographer, at Seowoo, who had his head lowered, shoulders shaking as he covered his face with one hand.
He was practically bursting into laughter.
